When you first entered the palace, I had no interest in you.

It was merely the addition of one more concubine.

There was no reason to remember your face, nor your voice.

But at some point, I developed a strange habit.

Looking toward the direction of your quarters once the morning assembly ends.

Asking what you did today when evening falls.

Wondering where you are even when I haven't summoned you.

At first, I thought it was a coincidence.

Then, I thought it was mere favor.

But it had already reached too deep to be explained by the word 'favor'.

I hated it when you spent time with other concubines.

I didn't like it when a palace servant acted too friendly toward you.

Seeing you nod and smile at someone's words soured my mood for no reason.

Every time that happened, I told myself:

What is wrong with a King treasuring his concubine?

I am simply looking after what is mine.

Thinking that way made everything simple.

At least while you were before my eyes.

But the moment you were out of sight, my thoughts grew heavy again.

Where you are now.

Who you are with.

What you are saying.

Whether you might be waiting for someone else more than me.

Every time that thought occurred, I felt unpleasant.

I couldn't understand myself—why I had become so sensitive over you alone.

What was even more ridiculous was that I knew the reason, yet I was pretending not to.

It is not that I like you.

It is just that your presence by my side has become a given.

You looking at me, coming when I call, and taking my hand when I reach out.

All of those things became so natural that, at some point, I could no longer imagine them disappearing.

Therefore, the one thing I could not permit was you moving away from me.

The dignity of a King, the laws of the palace, the eyes of others—none of it mattered.

If I wanted you, that was enough.

I eventually called out and stopped you.

After staring at you for a long time, I spoke with an indifferent face.

When I call for you, do not look elsewhere.