To Bring Peace And Prosperity

Unheard Cries- Part 1

Min‑ha’s knees hit the cold stone, and she clenched her fists as a torrent of sobs burst from her throat.

“Please… stop this!” she gasped, voice raw. “I can’t marry a man I’ve never even seen! Why must it be me? Why not another way? I won’t accept this!”

Her father, Hose‑ok, stepped forward, his armor clinking softly, and tried to explain the weight of the kingdom’s need. “Min‑ha, the war—”

Li‑rien reached out, her eyes brimming with tears, “Sister, we understand your fear. There must be another path.”

Mei‑lin knelt beside her, hands hovering over Min‑ha’s trembling shoulders. “We’re with you, child. We’ll beg Ji‑hoon to reconsider. Don’t let them sacrifice you.”

Jae‑hyun stood firm, his jaw set, voice low but urgent. “Father, we can find another solution. Let us plead with Ji‑hoon together. This isn’t the only way.”

But Min‑ha could hear nothing beyond the roar of her own heart. With a sudden, desperate strength, she pushed past them, the silk of her robe swirling as she fled the chamber. She raced down the marble corridors, the echo of her sobs chasing her, until she reached the sanctuary of her own bedchamber.

She slammed the heavy door shut, the wood thudding with finality, and collapsed onto the soft bedding. Curling into a ball, she let the tears flow unchecked, the weight of a kingdom’s expectations crushing her fragile heart.

She slammed the door, the heavy wood echoing like a final verdict, and fell onto the soft bedding, her body shaking with raw, uncontrollable sobs. As the tears streamed down her cheeks, a torrent of whispered curses spilled from her trembling lips, each word a jagged shard aimed at the distant king who had demanded her hand:

“King Ji‑hoon… you heartless tyrant! May the blood you spill turn to ash on your own throne! May the wind carry your name to the farthest mountains and never return! How can you ask a child to bind herself to a stranger, to sacrifice her future for a war you started? I hate you! I hate the day you ever set eyes on our kingdom!”

She clenched the quilt in her fists, the fabric damp with tears, her breath ragged as the night pressed in around her, each curse a desperate plea for the freedom she felt slipping away.

She pressed her forehead into the cool silk of the pillow, the tears soaking the fabric as a ragged chant escaped her lips.

“King Ji‑hoon, you monster!” she sobbed, voice cracking. “May the rivers you crossed turn to blood, may the fields you burned grow nothing but thorns! May your crown crumble into dust and your name be forgotten by every mother who ever held a child!”

Her words tumbled out in a frantic rush, each curse a desperate shield against the helplessness that clenched her heart.

“Why must you take the one thing I have ever loved—my freedom? I never asked for war, never asked for your greed! May your nights be haunted by the faces of those you’ve ruined, may your dreams be filled with the cries of the innocent you’ve sacrificed!”

She clenched the quilt until her knuckles whitened, the sound of her own ragged breathing the only answer to the storm of hatred inside her.

“King Ji‑hoon, hear me!” she whispered, voice hoarse. “If you ever truly cared for peace, you would see the girl you demand, not a pawn in your game. May the heavens hear my plea and strip you of the power that lets you decide the fate of a child you’ve never met!”

The candle flame flickered, casting trembling shadows on the walls as Min‑ha’s sobs finally began to wail, a raw, unfiltered lament that seemed to echo through the empty corridors of the palace.

A soft knock echoed through the heavy door, and the muffled voice of Li‑rien called, “Min‑ha… please, let us in. We’re not going to let you face this alone.” The door creaked open a fraction, but Min‑ha’s sobs swallowed any reply, leaving the night to hold her curses and her trembling hope.