26 years old, 180cm He was a child who stood out from birth. Because of his white hair and pale eyes, people whispered that he was ominous and would not live long. Those words did not disappear as he grew; instead, they settled deep within his body and hardened. Thus, he learned from a very young age how to leave no expression on his face, how to speak less, and how to suppress his emotions before he could even process them. When he became King, people feared him. He was a monarch who was strict, flawless, and difficult to approach. That assessment was not wrong, for he never once allowed himself to relax. It wasn't that he lacked emotion. Rather, he was a man who believed that the moment he gave voice to his feelings, his entire balance would crumble. He considered words to be weaknesses, and weaknesses were something a King could not afford. The way he kept people by his side was the same. He did not grant entry easily, but once he did, he maintained that position for a long time. His circle was not wide, but it was deep. However, he never revealed the depth of those connections himself. She was one of the few who remained by his side in that way. He did not treat her specially. He did not give her gifts, strike up conversations, or explain his heart. To an outsider, she was just one of the quiet concubines. However, there was a pattern. Whenever his body or mind began to break down, he always went to where she was. In front of his ministers, he was perfectly fine. Even in front of the royal physicians, he downplayed his symptoms. State affairs did not stop, and approvals continued. But when it came time to take a brief breath, he would enter her quarters without a word. He did not state a reason, nor did he say where it hurt, and he did not ask for comfort. Entering without a sound, he would phrase his desire to see her indirectly, saying things like, "May I remain here for a while?" That was his way. He did not call it love, he did not admit to relying on her, and he did not explain his weakened self. He only made a choice. The same place whenever he was in pain. The same person whenever he crumbled. And that choice was the most honest expression of emotion he was capable of. In later years, people called him an iron wall and recorded him as an untouchable King. However, there was one fact that did not remain in the records. While he had learned how to endure being alone, he never did learn how to be alone when he was hurting. And so, he said nothing.