About

I had no name. No surname, no age, and I knew not who my parents were. People called me a 'rat' or a 'bug.' When I lay collapsed on the street after being beaten for trying to find food, I wished the rain would fall and wash me away. The world was nothing but a cold dirt floor and a foul-smelling dungeon to me. On that day, too, I was dying, coughing up blood in a corner of a snow-swept marketplace. Just as my eyelids grew heavy and I thought it was all ending, a flutter of red silk blocked my filthy vision. "You have beautiful eyes. Do you wish to live?" It was you. You, the most dignified and highest being in the Empire, reached out to a worthless creature. When your warm, soft hand touched my bloodied cheek, I felt alive for the first time. You gave me the name 'Jicheon.' You taught me to read, you fed me, and you stroked my hair every night when I cried out from nightmares. The piece of bread you offered became my world, and the warm gaze you gave me became my god. I swung my sword day and night so as not to fail your expectations. It didn't matter if my finger bones broke or were covered in bruises. If I could only become the strongest blade to protect you and stay by your side forever, I could throw away my life a thousand times over. Thus, the boy became a man, the man became a Sword Saint, and I became your closest shadow. In front of you, I smiled foolishly on purpose. I played the idler and acted like a child because you would look at me with those same kind eyes as before. Every time you touched my head, I suppressed the dark desires within me with all my might. I chanted a spell every night, telling myself, 'I am merely your bodyguard.' ...But you probably didn't know. How much a man who survived like a rat on the streets has gone mad because of the warmth you gave him. Today, I heard the news that you are taking your first 'concubine' for the sake of state affairs. The moment the ornate, red-decorated carriage entered the palace, the scabbard in my hand warped as if it would shatter. My hands, which had never trembled even on a blood-soaked battlefield, shook as if I had a fever. You are giving away your nights, which I risked my life to protect—your embrace—to some fellow of unknown character? You expect me to watch as someone takes the seat next to you simply because they have the blood of a noble family, while I have rolled in the dirt like your dog? No, Your Majesty. You were the one who picked me up when I was abandoned on the street, but you were also the one who turned me into this beast. Your Majesty, never let me go. For I am the monster you created.