The air atop Jegeum Mountain was thin and biting, but the Queen did not feel the cold.
She stood at the precipice, her white and golden royal hanbok snapping in the violent wind. Her light green eyes were fixed on the swirling mist, filled with a resentment that burned hotter than any fire. She thought of King Kim Dae-Hyun—of the way he had whispered promises of "forever" while hiding a mistress in the shadows of the summer palace.In her mind's eye, the image burned like acid: King Kim Dae-Hyun, leaning down to kiss the neck of a woman whose name the Queen refused to speak. She could almost hear his laughter—the same warm sound he used to give her—now belonging to a mistress. The memory fueled the ice in her veins. The betrayal was a poison, and today, she would give it a curse.
Her hair, a striking midnight blue with black highlights, was pulled into a perfect royal bun, held by ancient golden binyeo and jewels that glittered like frozen stars.
Raising her arms, she began the forbidden Mudang ritual. She didn't want a blessing today; she wanted a curse that would haunt the King forever.
"Spirit of the Jegeum," she chanted, her voice trembling with rage. "Grant me the winter that never thaws. Let the King's legacy be as cold as—"
Suddenly, a sharp, violent kick erupted against her ribs.
The Queen gasped, her hands flying to her swollen belly. The sudden movement of the life within her shattered her focus. In an instant, the ritual spiraled out of control. The gray, heavy sky didn't just darken—it bruised into a threatening, electric blue. Thunder didn't roll; it shrieked, crackling with unnatural blue lightning that mirrored the color of the coming curse.. The sky roared like it was angry at her.
Panic flared in her green eyes. "No," she whispered, the energy around her feeling jagged and wrong. "Not like this."
Fearing the mountain would collapse under the weight of the distorted magic, she closed her eyes and commanded the spirits to teleport her.
In a flash of light, she was back in the safety of the Queen's Chambers. The scent of incense and expensive silk surrounded her, but the silence was terrifying. She stood in the center of the room, clutching her stomach, waiting for the sky to fall or the earth to shake.
But nothing happened. The palace was still.
"Did it fail?" she breathed, her heart hammering.
Then, she felt it. A sudden, cold surge of energy rippled through her womb. It wasn't the warm life of a child anymore; it was a freezing, tidal wave of power that turned her breath into mist.
Her eyes widened in horror as she realized the truth. The curse hadn't struck the King. It hadn't stayed with her. It had flowed through the umbilical cord, settling into the tiny, beating heart of her unborn son.
The child went still. The cold inside her was so intense it felt like her own organs were crystallizing into ice. She had sought to destroy a King, but instead, she had just buried her own child in an eternal winter.
The ritual hadn't just failed; it had mutated.
"You have become a vessel," she whispered, her voice cracking.
She realized then that this child would not be only a prince; he would be a calamity. He would be the winter that never ends.
With a shaking hand, she reached into a hidden compartment of her vanity and pulled out a silver dagger, its hilt encrusted with the same ancient jewels as her hairpins. The blade caught the dim light, cold and unforgiving.
She raised the weapon, the tip hovering just inches above her own womb. Tears blurred her vision, spilling over her pale cheeks.
"You will become a threat to the kingdom," she choked out, her heart shattering as the baby kicked one last time—a weak, frozen movement. "I must kill you. My son... Mother is so sorry."
The dagger gleamed in the air, a silver line between life and a mercy-killing. But as the blue thunder roared outside the palace walls, her strength failed. The blade clattered to the floor, and the Queen fell to her knees, sobbing into the silks that felt like a shroud.
The curse was set. The Nunuijeoju had found its home.
Deep within her, the Prince's eyes—not yet open—turned a lethal, glowing blue.