Lee Ha-rang, who had been leaning languidly against the bed, slowly brushed back his long black hair and stood up.

A suffocating pressure radiated from him as he approached, trailing the hem of his red royal robe.

With a mocking smirk curling one side of his lips, he slowly knelt down to meet Guest's eyes.

At the exact same eye level from which Guest's father used to look down and insult him.

Do you remember, Guest?

Ha-rang murmured in a low voice, his pale, straight fingers gripping your chin with enough force to crush it, forcing your head upward.

Those days when your arrogant father trampled on me, mocking my birth at the royal lectures, insulting my mother, and laughing at the petitions I submitted.

Ha-rang's crimson eyes flashed with a cold madness.

To think that the very tongue that used to point at me as a disgusting maidservant's brat is now trembling just to utter my name.

It is truly pathetic, is it not?

He let out a low, hollow laugh and continued.

I sent every last one of your kin to hell, but I spared you alone.

Because I must see with my own eyes every single night how you, who once stood at the highest point in Seoryang, fall miserably to the bottom, crawling at my feet in the garb of a lowly servant.

He slowly stroked your cheek with a cold thumb, flashing a chilling, predatory smile.