This chapter contains implied sexual violence, coercion, abuse of power, physical harm, psychological trauma, and graphic emotional distress. Please read with care; you have been warned.

Gift Box [2]

The moment Miye's voice rang through the arena, he knew what he had done.

He had chosen mercy over silence, and in doing so, he had shattered the Prince of Hwachon's pride before the eyes of the world.

Yugwon did not need to turn his head for Miye to know. He had lived beside him long enough to understand the weight of that stillness, the danger hidden in the absence of immediate wrath. To humiliate the prince, for the sake of a foreigner he had never met, was an unforgivable transgression.

Yet Miye could not regret it. He could not sit by and watch a man be maimed beyond redemption.

That night, the summons came.

The Princess was called to the Prince's chambers.

Miye knelt the moment he entered, his forehead pressed to the cold floor, his body trembling like a fragile branch beneath frost.

"Please forgive me," he said, voice barely holding together. "I spoke out of turn. I am willing to accept any punishment--"

"Stand."

The command cut through the room like a blade.

Yugwon reclined upon his bed, draped in a loose inner robe that lay open, showcasing his muscular figure, and black hair spilling over broad shoulders like ink across silk.

Smoke curled lazily from the pipe in his fingers, the air thick with a cloying sweetness that of a melted brown sugar that made Miye's head ache.

The prince's eyes gleamed in the dim light -- dark, cruel, amused.

Miye rose slowly, gaze lowered.

"I admire that you realized your mistake," Yugwon said softly. "But mistakes must be corrected. Otherwise… they grow."

Miye's fingers curled into his sleeves.

"You are precious to me," Yugwon continued, rising at last. "And precious things must be shaped carefully. Preserved perfectly."

Miye felt it then - the certainty, cold and absolute. The smoke he had tried not to breathe only grew stronger, walking directly towards him.

Before he could retreat, hands seized him.

The world lurched. His face met soft cushions, yet the impact stole the breath from his lungs. The prince's presence overwhelmed him - smoke, heat, authority - until Miye could no longer tell where he ended and Yugwon began. Their mouths interlocked, Yugwon tried to dominate the small mouth he tried to devour. His tongue hastily rolling around his prey's. He tasted of smoke and caramel, mixed with a bitterness of rare rice wine. The beast breathed raspily and finally took a break to catch his breath. As he pulled Miye's head back, he wiped his wet pink lips with his thumb.

Tears welled before Miye could stop them. He could only stare, unmoving, his expression emptied of resistance.

"My lord…" Miye whispered, desperation breaking through. "You know… my condition...I cannot--"

Yugwon smiled.

"But I am not the one doing it tonight."

The doors opened, and several footsteps entered. Four palace guards were summoned at this very moment. As they entered, they could stare at the scene before them in bewilderment.

Miye's robe was torn from him without ceremony, the silk falling like discarded petals to the floor. He curled inward instinctively, but hands restrained him, tying a tight cloth around his small wrists. His eyes, now painted with hues of red, possibly a witness to his incessant crying.

They stared down at the naked "princess" in horror. How could they possibly...

Yugwon only sat at the edge of his bed, cross-legged, and stared at the scene before him with indifference. The four men, confused about what to do, spoke to each other in whispers.

What's happening? The flower princess was a man? What does the prince want us to do? He can't possibly want us to sleep with a man, does he?

"What is it? Not your liking?" Yugwon spoke with almost no emotion.

"Your highness...how can we..."

"Oh, do not concern yourself with anything else right now. It is an order. Do or die. "

"....?"

"Consider it your chance to get a taste of the flower princess. Now, entertain me."

One of the men gulped. Who knows - was it fear or something that provoked him underneath?

He grabbed the white jar that lay on the floor and forcefully fed Miye the aphrodisiac liquid. Miye was unable to gulp down the whole bottle, leaving it drenching his fair skin as the liquid trickled down.

He glanced at Yugwon several times. However, Yugwon showed no interest. He only watched, and watched, and watched.

He watched Miye being consumed by four masculine men, leaving crimson marks in circles around his chest.

He watched them like excited beasts ready to gnaw at their newly caught prey.

He watched Miye's hair being pulled down, being eaten from everywhere.

He watched Miye scream in pain, crying and trying to fight back, but all in vain.

He watched every single sight of it.

"No matter what we do, he doesn't get hard." One of the men pointed out, sucking on the small member that drooped down. Miye's back curled upwards, feeling a shock run down his spine.

"Don't you get it? He can't get it up because it's dysfunctional. That's why he walks around like a woman."

"Hahahaha, you really fooled us!"

Another thrust, and Miye jolted up. His eyelids widened in shock or pain or maybe both, his nose running, and his lips as red as dry scrubbed skin.

The room filled with muffled sounds - ragged breaths, stifled cries, the scrape of movement against skin and stone. Time stretched into something formless, endless. Miye's consciousness drifted, splintered, as though his spirit had fled while his body remained behind to endure.

Pain came in waves. Shame followed. Then numbness.

Alas, Miye gave up. He couldn't save these people anymore.

"Please...." he mouthed the words, looking directly at Yugwon's indifferent eyes, "Save me....kill them."

Understanding his last words, Yugwon's eyes lit up. His lips curled upwards, and in a split second, four heads were severed in front of Miye's half-unconscious eyes. He lay there, his sticky body now drenched in a pool of disgusting blood.

Silence fell heavy and suffocating.

Miye lay amid the aftermath, his body slack, blood cooling beneath him like dark water. He no longer saw clearly. Tears streamed unchecked, indistinguishable from the stains around him.

Yugwon approached at last, lifting Miye as though he weighed nothing. He freed him with careful hands, almost tender now, as if this had always been the intention.

"You should have told me sooner," Yugwon murmured near his ear. "Why suffer so long for those who meant nothing to you?"

Miye did not answer.

Wrapped in warm blankets, cradled against a chest that had orchestrated his ruin, he slipped into darkness.

Yugwon held him close, unmoved by the blood staining his bed.

To him, the night had ended exactly as it should have.