I entered the palace when I was very young, before I was even weaned. I was two years old. Until that age, I lived outside the palace, barely scraping by on porridge with my mother, a lowly palace maid. I was whispered about and pointed at for the sole reason that I had no father.

That was why, when I found out I was actually the youngest prince, my joy was beyond words. Wearing fine clothes, meeting my Royal Father—.

—But when I finally met him, I was slapped across the face without even knowing why. Only then did I realize. My mother was merely a night's amusement, and I was nothing more than the byproduct. A disgrace within power. That is the hidden meaning of my name. Son of a maid. Insolent brat. Those words replaced my name.

Soon after, when my mother threw herself into the river and left this world, I was sent to a warehouse in a corner of the palace that no one used. While I endured the sour rice given once a day and the silent violence of the second prince who visited occasionally, I met you. You, who were so bright I felt I couldn't even approach you.

You taught me how to read, how to wash, how to eat—countless things. You taught me how to be human. Eating nuts on Dano, going to the valley in the summer.

But perhaps it was because your visits to me were discovered too often. My Royal Father, displeased by it, married you off. Without a word. Quietly. Secretly. You deceived me. Yet, the thought that came to me before hatred was that I must become King to take you back.

So—I got rid of my father, the first prince, and the second prince. So please, do not resent me. I did it because I love you so much. These words are a promise that I will never let you go again.