The Kun’s Aran

Chapter 1

Two months ago…

The thick, sickening smell of blood followed the man like a shadow. Dark blood dripped with each step he took. His cloak dragged heavily on the ground, drenched with blood. He unfastened it and tossed it aside. As it fell, the sanguine scent filled the air.

Kun Chian Kai Bayar—the emperor of Gayan and the notoriously merciless warmonger.

He had just conquered Seo. The kingdom had been difficult to take due to its location. Situated on a peninsula at the continent’s edge, it had limited access points. Chian had fought for half a year before the kingdom finally surrendered. Seo had held out longer than other nations, which had fallen in less than a month.

As soon as he entered the barracks, he sank his blood-stained body into a chair and let out a heavy sigh.

“Would you like to bathe?” Jamuka asked as he arranged the emperor’s weapons.

Chian waved a hand dismissively.

Jamuka Casar, his old friend and trusted strategist, lifted the front flap to the emperor’s barrack and ordered a soldier, “Prepare a bath for the Kun.”

Soon, soldiers brought a large bathtub into the barrack and filled it with steaming water. Chian waited until the tub was full, then rose to his feet. Jamuka quickly unfastened the clasps of his armor. Chian removed the rest of his clothes and slipped into the water, his body still coated in dried blood.

“Shall I bring the princess of Seo to serve you?” asked Jamuka.

Three years ago, Chian had begun taking a princess from each conquered nation as a hostage. Jamuka had suggested this to prevent rebellion. They had requested a princess of Seo immediately after its fall.

“When do I ever have a woman serve me?”

“I heard their second princess is of great beauty,” reported Jamuka.

Chian smiled.

It is of no concern to me.

With that cynical smile, his face now cleansed of blood, he looked like a statue of a winter god. He was smiling, but the expression lacked emotion.

“Shall I bring her?” Jamuka asked again.

“Not interested.”

Chian wanted to enjoy the luxury of a long, hot bath. It was the day he had brought the last of Gayan’s neighboring nations to its knees. Finally, Gayan was now an empire. However, it did not ease the rage that still burned in his heart.

He leaned back and closed his eyes. The lamplight highlighted his face, from his forehead down to his nose, lips, sharp jaw, and neck. Water fell from his long, black hair. Jamuka knelt behind him, drying it with a towel.

“Go and rest now,” he ordered, and Jamuka left quietly.

Soon it was silent and dark. The quiet brought a flood of memories he could never forget. As the lamp’s light flickered and danced, Chian rested his scarred body in the hot water, letting out another sigh. The anger within him surfaced with each breath and coiled around him like a snake. He still vividly recalled the day four of his brothers were slaughtered before his eyes.

⁕⁕⁕

Gayan had once been a small nation in the north of the continent. The land was barren, and its people lived as powerless nomads. Neighboring nations had looked down on it until twenty years ago.

Then came Kun Jaikan Bayar. Without him... Aran thought.

Gayan would have remained a small, weak nation. Under his leadership, it conquered nearby nations and expanded. After Kun Jaikan Bayar died, Kun Chian Bayar succeeded him and continued his predecessor’s domination. The war lasted nine years.

He is brutal and merciless. He killed all of his brothers to seize the throne.

Kun Jaikan Bayar had six sons. Kun Chian Bayar was the fifth, but he killed all his brothers to become king. In just nine years, he created an empire, with Seo being the last to surrender.

I heard my father knelt before him.

It had been a good thing that Aran hadn’t witnessed that herself. If she had, then she would have lost her sense of right and wrong and picked up a sword to attack the Kun.

Seonwoo Aran, the eldest princess of Seo, was not like her meek younger sister, Seonwoo Hari. She preferred hunting with her old friend General Choi Hyeok and the other generals rather than spending time with the other ladies.

I will never hunt again.

Everyone had been relieved when she volunteered to become a hostage. Her going to Gayan meant the war was over, which also meant no more sacrifices would be needed. General Choi was the only one who objected, the only one upset. Aran knew how much guilt he carried for losing the war, so she’d lied, promising it would be all right. She didn’t want her best friend to carry that burden alone.

Jeongwol’s voice broke through Aran’s thoughts.

“Your Highness. You need to stay still,” the maid complained as she attended to the princess.

Aran relaxed her tense spine and sighed deeply. The filthy smell of the old, dirty barrack filled her lungs.

“This stench is making me nauseous.”

“The interpreter permitted us to leave the barrack, but we should not attempt to run away.”

Aran was not planning to run away. The truth was that her younger sister, Seonwoo Hari, was originally meant to be here instead. When Aran saw her sister crying in fear, she volunteered to take her place.

Still, this is terrifying.

She had traveled for a day, among sacks and chests in a carriage, only to find herself trapped in this small, foul-smelling tent. It was becoming too much to bear.

Perhaps I should step outside for a little while. I am not likely to encounter the emperor, am I?

The stories about Kun Chian Bayar were part of the reason Hari had cried and refused to accompany him as his hostage. The stories said he was a cruel man who would kill anyone without hesitation. The emperor never bedded the same woman twice, and he was a man of lust who left behind many illegitimate children on each battlefield.

As long as I stay out of his sight, I can live a quiet life.

Aran had heard countless times that after the Kun spent a night with a princess, he sent her to the Quiet Palace, where she would wither away. For that reason, Aran had stepped forward to take her place.

Surely he would pay no attention to me when there are plenty of other women. At best, it would only be one night.

Though she could not bear to imagine it, she would brace herself. That was all she wished for—a quiet life. She would live in the shadows, avoiding Kun Chian Bayar’s attention, and perhaps return home someday, if that was ever possible.

As the conversations in the unfamiliar language finally came to an end, Aran put on a short, thick coat.

“I should get some fresh air.”

The stench must have been just as unbearable for Jeongwol, as she donned her coat and opened the flap. A cold breeze swept through immediately. It had been only a day since they had departed Seo’s capital with Gayan soldiers, so they were likely still within the kingdom’s territory.

Yet the air itself feels so unfamiliar, thought Aran sadly.

It was silent, as though the Gayan language was subdued by the darkness of night. Aran looked around and stepped carefully out of the barrack.

“Your Highness, we cannot go far,” warned Jeongwol.

“I wish to look south.”

Aran gazed up at the star-filled sky, then turned south. She walked among the line of barracks and then hesitated when she saw the guards stationed at the end.

“Your Highness.”

Frightened, Jeongwol stepped closer to her. Aran took her maid’s cold hand and moved forward carefully. One of the guards spoke to her. The Gayan language was similar to that of Seo.

“Is he stating that we cannot go farther?”

“I believe so, Your Highness.”

Aran nodded to the guard and halted. It was dark, but she could see the southern land, which was enough for her. In a few days, she would not be able to see her homeland again, possibly for the rest of her life. As her breath formed a white mist, she peered into the darkness of the south. It seemed as bleak as her future.

She knew she would see the Milky Way in Gayan too, but somehow she felt she might never see the night sky again. Aran had chosen this path, and although she left nothing behind, her heart was heavy with sorrow.

Will I ever return home?

No answer came. Only the cries of beasts and the occasional hoots of owls broke the silence.

Then, murmurs arose from behind, followed by the crackling of torches growing closer. Aran turned to see who it was and saw a tall man holding a torch. His face, illuminated by the dancing torchlight, was striking. His features were sharp, almost fierce, and his black eyes seemed to glint blue. Even in that darkness, Aran could tell he was exceptionally handsome. His emotionless expression drew her attention.

Who is he?

His black eyes indifferent, he gazed at her with a tilt of his head. He was standing close, almost as though he wished to speak.

Jeongwol glanced at him and whispered, “Your Highness, I believe the guards are changing shifts.”

He seems too handsome to be merely a guard.

The previous guards had disappeared. The new guard was alone, carrying a large torch. Aran thought he looked somewhat lonely.

He has fought a long war far from home, and I am being taken from mine.

This thought made her want to be kind to him.

“Can you see that star in Gayan?”

He followed her finger and looked up where she was pointing. She hoped he understood her, but as his black eyes slid back down to her, he did not reply. It was as if he did not register her at all. His face showed no emotion.

Perhaps he cannot understand me.

Then, suddenly, he grasped one of her slender arms with a broad hand.