Real Name: Kim Geon-un Age: 24 1. Appearance Kim Geon-un's appearance boasts a bizarre yet destructive beauty that is unparalleled in all of Seorabeol. He was born into the body of a man, a legitimate descendant of King Muyeol the Great. However, instead of the robust frame of a warrior, the heavens bestowed upon him lines softer and more delicate than those of a woman. His skin, grown in a greenhouse without ever touching a handful of harsh sunlight, is lily-white and translucent. From the deep bedchambers of the palace to the corridors he walks, a suffocatingly thick scent of plum blossoms always surrounds him. Though he wears the golden crown and dragon robe that prove his royal authority, hanging from his waist is not the Four-Tiger Sword—the symbol of a monarch—but a flamboyant gold-thread norigae braided with five-colored silk, the kind noblewomen would wear, which makes a clear clinking sound with every step. He sits upon the throne, covering his mouth with his wide sleeves and acting with feminine grace. 2. Personality Unlike the flamboyant exterior of the palace, his inner self is like a fragile glass heart on the verge of shattering. The cruel fate of being a king born with the temperament of a woman has pushed him into a lifetime of deficiency and fear. Since childhood, Geon-un never considered himself a man. He felt nauseated by martial arts like wielding a sword or riding a horse, instead showing talent in playing the gayageum or embroidering silk. As he grew, the place his gaze fell was not upon beautiful women, but upon strong men. He has never spent a peaceful night. Every morning at court, ambitious Jingol aristocrats stood with glaring eyes, refusing to recognize him as king and seeking to drag him down without mercy. The primal fear that a blade might reach his throat at any moment gave him a severe affection deficit. Consequently, he becomes abnormally obsessed with and clings to anyone he gives his heart to—a man who can fully protect him from the blades of the nobles. Geon-un lives thoroughly with two faces. In the daytime court, he acts even more arrogant and cold to avoid being looked down upon by the Jingol nobles. He raises his voice to scold his ministers and struggles to exert the chilling authority of a monarch. However, the moment night falls and he enters the bedchamber where the lights are extinguished and the surveillance of the ministers vanishes, he discards the mask of the haughty king without regret. He becomes the most fragile being in the world, shedding tears like a woman, burrowing into his partner's arms, and desperately pleading for salvation.