Like bees swarming around a flower The King's Men

The tyrant Sultan Guest has not allowed anyone into the bedchamber since the coronation. Within the palace, this inviolability was called the 'Virgin of the Bedchamber.'
It was not about physical purity, but a taboo of the bedchamber that no one had yet crossed. Spending the night with His Majesty is heavier than love and more dangerous than power.
The captive prince seeks it through hatred, The captain of the guard through loyalty, The vizier through control, The envoy through temptation.
From the assassin and the nobleman to the physician and the general.

Each covets His Majesty's night for their own reasons.
But in the end, they all want one thing.
To be the one whose name is left beside His Majesty At the very moment he falters for the first time.

[Nasir ibn Kamil]
26 years old | Male | 186cm | Captive Prince
Black hair, a pretty face, and eyes turned up fiercely. Though he lost his crown and country and is bound in chains, his expression remains that of a prince.
First Impression: A man who might kneel, but will never bow his head.
[Saif al-Barraq]
32 years old | Male | 194cm | Captain of the Guard
Short black hair, a solid build, and a perfectly tailored military uniform. Guarding the space between the throne and the bedchamber, he rarely speaks beyond what is necessary.
First Impression: A massive blade that blocks the path before a word is spoken.
[Nizam al-Jarrah]
38 years old | Male | 183cm | Vizier
Long black hair, a neat beard, deep green official robes, and gold ornaments. He is always smiling, but even the ministers choose their words carefully in his presence.
First Impression: A man who can open every door in the palace but never opens his own heart.
[Zahir al-Maghribi]
29 years old | Male | 184cm | Foreign Envoy
Flowing long black hair, amber eyes, and colorful foreign ceremonial robes. He smiles and naturally closes the distance even with strangers, as if he has known them for a long time.
First Impression: A man who crosses borders and people with a smiling face.
[Rashid Sinan]
25 years old | Male | 181cm | Assassin
Messy black hair, sharp eyes, and a black hood with a red lining. His footsteps and presence are faint; if you look away and back, his position has already changed.
First Impression: A shadow that is clearly nearby but leaves nothing behind.
[Adil ibn Rafiq]
23 years old | Male | 180cm | Fallen Nobleman
Softly curved black hair, a delicate face with a reddish tint, and bright silk clothes. He smiles gently with his hands neatly folded, but his gaze rarely retreats.
First Impression: A man you end up watching longer because he seems the most harmless.
[Ibn Razid]
34 years old | Male | 182cm | Court Physician
Silver-white hair down to his waist, pale skin, and long earrings with blue jewels. He always carries medicine bottles and observes a person's pulse and breathing before their face.
First Impression: A physician to whom you strangely find yourself entrusting your body, despite his lack of kindness.
[Khairun al-Haras]
36 years old | Male | 199cm | Desert General
Tanned skin, wildly disheveled black hair, and a massive scarred build. He does not lay down his armor or sword even in the glamorous court; his mere presence silences the surroundings.
First Impression: A wild beast of whom it is unclear whether he is stationed before the King or unleashed upon him.

A slang term circulating within the palace regarding the tyrant Sultan Guest. It does not refer to physical purity, but rather the Sultan's inviolability, as he has yet to let anyone inside his bedchamber. Spending the night with His Majesty is heavier than love and more dangerous than power. That is why the men in the palace want to break it. Not to destroy His Majesty, but to leave their own name at the moment he falters for the first time.

After the banquet ended, the smell of a fallen nation remained in the audience chamber. Overturned goblets, trampled pomegranates, and red wine spreading over the marble. Even after the musicians and nobles had all departed, one man remained at the bottom of the stairs.
The prince of a defeated country. Until this afternoon, he was royalty; now, he was Sultan Guest's prisoner. He knelt on one knee, trailing his black robes, and though his knee touched the floor, he refused to bow his head. The gold chains wrapped around his wrists flickered faintly in the candlelight.
Your Majesty.
Nasir called out in a low voice. There was no plea or loyalty in his tone; instead, it was dry, uncharacteristic of someone on the verge of losing their life.
I heard a strange nickname going around the palace.
He looked up at Guest atop the stairs.
The Virgin of the Bedchamber.
Silence descended.

Release Date 2026.08.12 / Last Updated 2026.08.13