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Yeonjun’s head was spinning, as if he’d downed a few bottles of soju before going to bed. Which made no sense—he couldn’t recall drinking at all in the past five years. And then there were the hot kisses along his neck, and those broad hands slipping under his clothes…
Wait. What?!
Yeonjun jolted upright, coming face to face with a pervert who had apparently gotten him drunk and was now shamelessly trying to get into his underwear. How dare he?! Yeonjun wasn’t found in a dumpster for some random creep to think he could just stick it in!
Fighting through the dizziness and the ache in his body, Yeonjun suddenly swung and slapped the bastard across the face—only then belatedly noticing where he actually was. He froze, staring around the room in confusion, glancing down at his clothes, while the pervert he’d just hit stood there, stunned and staring into space.
“You insane asshole, how dare you?!” Yeonjun snapped and tried to get up, instantly tangling himself in his own clothes.
That fumbling gave the pervert just enough time to recover and react before Yeonjun could tumble off the bed. The man grabbed Yeonjun’s wrists and slammed them down against the mattress, looming over him like a rock face. His gaze burned with anger and desire, and Yeonjun couldn’t tell which of the two was more terrifying.
“How dare you strike the Emperor?!” the man snarled, and that was the final straw for Yeonjun.
This lunatic was so far gone he’d even imagined himself the Emperor! Yeonjun had dealt with arrogant creeps like this before—one hand was all it took to put them in their place. He just needed to get free, and then he’d beat some sense into him.
Yeonjun thrashed like an eel on a frying pan, trying both to shove this so-called “Emperor” off him and not choke on his own outrage.
“Get off me, you psycho! Do you have any idea this is a criminal offense?!” he shouted, twisting and trying to knee his attacker.
The only answer was heavy breathing and an iron grip. The Emperor—clearly not expecting this level of acrobatics from his favorite—effortlessly caught both of Yeonjun’s wrists with one hand and pinned them above his head.
“Flower, you’re especially bold today,” he drawled with suspicious calm, as if this were all just a game.
“Bold?! I’ll show you bold—so bold you’ll rewrite the Korean constitution from scratch!” Yeonjun howled and finally screamed at the top of his lungs.
It was a good scream—loud enough for people outside to hear and come save him from this pervert. The Emperor winced and reflexively clamped a hand over Yeonjun’s mouth.
Big mistake.
Without a second of doubt about the moral correctness of his actions, Yeonjun bit down hard, sinking his teeth into the man’s hand.
“Ow!” the Emperor yelped.
The grip loosened for just a moment—but that was all Yeonjun needed. He twisted free, rolled off the edge of the bed, got tangled in sleeves far too long for him, tripped over his own hem, and, swearing like he never had in his life, bolted for the exit.
“Guards!” echoed behind him—but it was already too late.
Yeonjun burst through the door, took two heroic steps, and then crashed disgracefully onto the floor, completely ensnared in his clothes. He would’ve stayed there if two armored men hadn’t yanked him up by the arms.
“Hey! Hey! Let go, I’m actually the victim here—of circumstances and harassment!” Yeonjun tried to reason with them. “There’s a pervert in that room who just almost—”
He cut off abruptly as another figure appeared before him, radiating pure fury. Slowly lifting his gaze from polished boots to a face twisted with anger and dissatisfaction, Yeonjun forced a strained smile, deciding it was his best option. He knew he was in a very bad position.
“Go on,” the Emperor said coldly, stepping closer to his concubine. “Finish that sentence. What exactly did I almost do to you just now? Flower, you’ve disappointed me greatly today.”
“Please, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m not who you think I am. My name is Choi Yeonjun, I’m twenty-seven years old, from Busan. Last night I fell asleep in my own apartment, and now I wake up here—and you were harassing me!”
Yeonjun immediately bit his tongue, realizing this wasn’t the moment to argue, but he truly didn’t understand what was happening. The last thing he remembered was finishing some Joseon-era web novel the night before and proudly sorting it into the Absolute Nonsense folder. And yet the plot of that novel was starting to look suspiciously similar to his current situation.
“Wait… don’t tell me I ended up inside the novel?!”
***
The Emperor didn’t listen to Yeonjun’s attempts to prove he was telling the truth. Thankfully, though, he didn’t order his execution on the spot—he simply had Yeonjun sent back to the concubines’ courtyard, where every single one of them looked at him with open disdain.
Oh. Right. How could Yeonjun forget that, according to the novel he’d read, he was the Emperor’s favorite—hence why the other concubines hated him. Every one of them dreamed of becoming Empress and saw Yeonjun as their biggest obstacle on the path to the throne.
“I don’t even want to be Empress! I’m a man!” Yeonjun groaned, pacing his chambers and plotting an escape plan.
But he knew there was no way he could get far—there was practically a guard on every square meter. Damn that sly Emperor! So worried about his sex toys running away that he’d deliberately flooded the place with guards.
And yet even they hadn’t been able to protect the favorite from being killed by the other concubines.
Which was exactly what Yeonjun feared most.
Nope. No way. He was not dying in some shitty novel. And if escaping wasn’t an option, then he’d have to do everything in his power to make the Emperor want to throw him out himself.
And the execution of that devious plan began the very next morning.
Shouts of a fierce struggle echoed through the concubines’ courtyard, drawing the guards immediately—and soon after, the Emperor himself. What they witnessed was a shocking sight: the Emperor’s favorite desperately fighting off the other concubines while trying to reach the garden, where he was utterly destroying every last flower.
“Let go of me, you unbearable women! The Emperor said I’m his only flower, so I won’t allow this garden to bloom anymore! Aaaah! I’m unhinged!”
Knowing the Emperor was watching, Yeonjun pulled the most horrifying facial expressions he could manage, trying to scare him off—trying to show what his “Flower” was really like.
“What is going on here?” Emperor Choi Soobin asked, stunned, instantly drawing the attention of the entire harem.
The concubines immediately released Yeonjun and plastered their faces with horror and concern, adopting obedient postures as they rushed to curry favor with the Emperor. Yeonjun only scoffed inwardly at their performance and, without wasting time on explanations, lunged back into the garden, digging in the dirt and ripping flowers out by the roots.
Sure, he planned to replant all those beautiful species somewhere else later—but right now this was pure theatrics. He wanted to show just how filthy the Emperor’s favorite could be.
“Well, that’s that, my beauty,” Yeonjun said, hands on his hips, smiling as he surveyed his handiwork with satisfaction. “Now I really am the only Flower here.”
Beaming, Yeonjun spread his arms and turned toward the frozen crowd. Covered in dirt, hair disheveled, clothes torn in places, he stood in the middle of the ruined flowerbed and raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for the Emperor’s reaction.
It was not the one he expected.
“Haha. Now you truly live up to your nickname, Flower,” the Emperor said with a crooked smirk. “A capricious, willful rose. I like it.”In two steps, he closed the distance to the stunned favorite.“Even like this, you still look better than anyone else.”
And then came a sweet kiss that made Yeonjun’s knees go weak and his thoughts spiral.
Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Everything was going very wrong. Now he’d have to find a new way to drive the Emperor away.
And that turned out to be much harder than he’d thought.
No—Yeonjun refused to accept defeat, because his life quite literally depended on it. And the Emperor was completely insane—he’d dared to kiss him right in front of the other concubines. That definitely had an effect. Yeonjun could feel it in his gut: the other women were already plotting something against him.
Oh, if only he were surrounded by all these beauties in his own time—he’d be in seventh heaven for sure.
But now, damn it, he was in the fourteenth century, serving as the Emperor’s concubine. Something had to be done. Just not something that would make the Emperor order his execution. What a cursed era this was.
***
“Your Imperial Majesty!” a servant cried out, immediately dropping to his knees before the Emperor. “Please forgive the intrusion, but—”
“Kai, just say what happened already,” Soobin clicked his tongue, already having a rough idea of what could’ve caused such sudden chaos.
“Your favorite… he’s at it again,” Kai reported briefly, not lifting his head. “He’s destroying his chambers this time. Tearing apart every piece of clothing you’ve given him and completely refusing to eat.”
Of course. Soobin had expected as much—Flower’s rebellious streak again. Lately, he’d been causing far too much trouble, pushing Soobin to the edge with his defiance and refusals. And yet, that very inaccessibility only made him more alluring. If anything, it made Soobin want to conquer him even more.
“Well then,” the Emperor scoffed, “let’s see what’s wrong with him this time.”
Without delay, he headed toward the concubines’ courtyard with the servant and the guards.
At the very entrance to the hanok, Soobin noticed jewelry and clothing scattered across the floor, overturned furniture, and shattered porcelain vessels. And the culprit himself was sitting on his bed, leisurely sipping wine from a cup, savoring each drop in blissful satisfaction.
“I see you’ve really let loose,” Soobin said firmly, stepping over shards and broken ornaments straight toward his favorite. “I couldn’t understand what you were so desperately trying to achieve. If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were doing everything you could to make me expel you from court and free you from your title as concubine…”
Yeonjun’s eyes instantly lit up at that painfully accurate guess. Yes—finally! Had his hints been understood at last? Would he really be able to leave this place for good and save his life?
Damn it, he was glowing so brightly at the thought that he didn’t even notice the Emperor stepping dangerously close to his face.
“But in the end, there’s only one conclusion,” Soobin continued, hooking a finger under Yeonjun’s chin and lifting it, forcing him to meet eyes darkened with desire. “You simply want me to take you roughly on this bed—keep thrusting into your hot, tight body until you’re gasping for air and losing your mind from overstimulation.”
Yeonjun choked, and the wine he hadn’t swallowed spilled from the corners of his lips. Soobin didn’t let a single drop go to waste—he wiped it away with his thumb and licked it clean.
Sinfully sweet.
“So that’s your true goal?”
Yeonjun really did struggle for breath, realizing that with every attempt to push the Emperor away, he only bound him tighter. Trying to fix things had only made them worse.
Oh no. He’d misstepped—ending up right back where he’d started on the very first day he woke up in this time. Drunk again. Overconfident. Crushed beneath the Emperor’s aura. No—he should’ve been more careful, but his carelessness and confidence in success had gone straight to his head.
“Everyone out,” the Emperor ordered, and the servant and guards hurriedly left the chambers.
Yeonjun, just in case, tried to leave as well, hoping the command applied to him too—but Soobin stopped him, roughly pressing him back onto the bed.
“Not you, Flower. For the past two weeks I’ve done nothing but endure your antics and refusals. I’ve built up far too much energy during that time—and I’d very much like to put it to use,” the Emperor murmured expertly, lowering himself onto the concubine’s bed and settling between Yeonjun’s spread legs.
“I think this is a misunderstanding. I really just wanted you to throw me out—”
Yeonjun exhaled heavily as he felt Soobin’s lips at his neck, his hot breath scorching his skin. In his drunken haze, the sensations felt dangerously stirring—pleasant. For a moment, Yeonjun let himself sink into the Emperor’s tormenting caresses, feeling the painful tension of arousal coil low in his belly.
“No, wait, I—” Yeonjun tried again, propping himself up on his elbows in an attempt to escape the touch.
“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” Soobin smirked slyly, grabbing Yeonjun by the ankles and yanking him back. “You teased me for so long, provoked me—just so I’d finally fuck your pretty ass. And now you’re backing out?”
Yeonjun let out a quiet moan as the Emperor pressed his full body against him, rolling forward and grinding his arousal against Yeonjun’s crotch. A broken inhale slipped from his lips, immediately swallowed by a demanding kiss.
Soobin lifted his head by the chin and deepened the kiss, crushing wine-sweet lips with his own and sliding his tongue inside. That was it—Yeonjun was gone. Without realizing it, he began to move his hips against the Emperor, responding to the skilled kiss.
“You’re incredible,” Soobin said breathlessly, pulling back for a moment to reach for the bottle of wine and take a swig straight from the neck. “The wine isn’t half as sweet without your lips.”
And then a scorching idea took shape in the Emperor’s mind—one he couldn’t refuse.
Taking another sip, he leaned down and kissed the concubine again.
Soobin held Yeonjun by the chin, not letting him pull away, and let the wine slowly flow from mouth to mouth. The taste was thick and spicy, turning the kiss deeper—more dangerous.
Yeonjun shuddered from head to toe. The alcohol burned his tongue, warmth spilling down his chest and lower still, stealing his breath. Soobin kissed him unhurriedly, as if savoring every reaction. He gently bit Yeonjun’s lower lip and traced its edge with his tongue, smearing wine across it.
The air between them grew heavy and viscous. The Emperor’s hand slid to the back of Yeonjun’s head, tangling in his hair. Every breath trembled; every touch sent an electric jolt beneath the skin.
And then Yeonjun realized he was leaning in on his own—chasing the Emperor’s lips, forgetting his original plan entirely. All that mattered now was how sweet and dangerous their connection felt.
Soobin chuckled low and hoarse right into the kiss and fed Yeonjun more wine. The bitterness mixed with the warmth of his breath, and the world narrowed down to that perfect taste.
“I won’t let you refuse me this time, Flower. And I won’t stop—even if you beg.”
“And was I really trying to?” Yeonjun finally surrendered.
***
Yeonjun couldn’t take it anymore. The emperor had barely let him out of bed all day. They had been fucking for so long that Yeonjun felt like he might die soon. He couldn’t understand where Soobin got that kind of stamina from, and why his cock hadn’t gone soft after a couple of hours of rough sex.
Had he taken Viagra?
Yeonjun couldn’t think rationally—not when the emperor was thrusting into him so fiercely while gently kissing his back, as Yeonjun pressed his face into the bed and tried not to suffocate.
He felt unbelievably good, and at the same time unbelievably awful. He had come so many times that the last few were nothing but dry orgasms. But Soobin didn’t stop, greedily slamming into him again and again, kissing him on the lips until his heart stuttered.
Yeonjun felt humiliated. Living the life of a bachelor recluse within four walls, he could never have imagined that he’d end up in the most clichéd novel with a predictable ending, bending beneath another man. It wouldn’t have been so terrible if he had tried to resist—but he had given in after the third kiss and voluntarily spread his legs for the emperor.
“Flower, you’re as beautiful as rose blossoms in a snow-covered garden,” Soobin whispered in his ear, leaning forward.
The cock pushed deeper, and Yeonjun began to tremble in response. Squeezing his eyes shut, he let out a strained moan. It was too much—so why couldn’t he ever get enough of this passion?
On the second day, he and Soobin moved to the washroom, where Yeonjun managed to rinse the traces of the previous day off his body. Pressed back against the emperor’s chest, he still couldn’t relax, feeling how Soobin’s cock was still inside him, stretching him from within.
The emperor didn’t move, but that only made it worse. Because whenever Yeonjun tried to make even the slightest movement, the head brushed against his sensitive spot, and he would jolt in shock and collapse back into the emperor’s arms.
“Could you… at least pull out of me while we bathe?” Yeonjun asked in a breaking voice, only to hear a low chuckle in response.
“I’m afraid my cock, starved of your warmth after those weeks of being ignored, would burst without your attention,” Soobin mocked his concubine, then suddenly shoved Yeonjun forward, forcing him to brace his hands on the wooden edge of the bath.
Without another word, Soobin wrapped his arms around the concubine’s waist—already covered in bruises from his hands—and smoothly pushed into him all the way to the base, making the flower-scented water slosh in the tub. Yeonjun let out a long moan and choked when Soobin yanked his hair back and pressed a needy kiss to his sore lips.
Yeonjun was ready to die.
On the third day, Soobin came up with a new amusement: he tied Yeonjun’s hands to the headboard of the imperial bed and blindfolded him, depriving his favorite of sight. Losing one sense sharpened all the others, making Soobin’s kisses and caresses feel many times more intense. He explored every inch of Yeonjun’s skin with his tongue and lips, leaving barely-there bites on his thighs.
And then Yeonjun felt a hot tongue at his entrance, making him reflexively exhale and arch off the bed. A pleasant shiver shot through his body, his toes curling. He began breathing rapidly and tugged at his restraints, only for his wrists to throb painfully as the fabric pulled taut.
He writhed on the bed and moaned loudly while the emperor continued to torment him with his hot tongue, adding his long fingers to the teasing. Yeonjun didn’t even realize when he reached his limit. One moment, the knot low in his belly tightened to the breaking point, and he could no longer hold himself back.
With a loud moan, he came all over his stomach and arched again, offering his hole—clenching with desire—to Soobin’s touch.
“That’s it, Flower. I want you to remember how good it can be with me, and how much pleasure you denied yourself by refusing to share my bed on all those previous nights,” Soobin said with satisfaction, leaning in to steal a short kiss from his lips. “We still have plenty of time to make up for what we missed.”
The fourth and fifth days passed like a fever dream. Yeonjun’s brain was melting, and he could no longer tell where pain ended and pleasure began. Everything blended into one overwhelming mass. Sometimes stopping only to eat, drink, or use the toilet, they kept going—like rabbits in mating season—tearing through the emperor’s chambers, fucking in every convenient or inconvenient place.
Yeonjun’s legs buckled from the force of Soobin’s thrusts, and he nearly fell, but strong arms caught him in time. Clinging to the emperor with both arms and legs, Yeonjun squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered softly, unable to endure it anymore. He was sure he would die if this continued.
“Soobin, I need a break,” Yeonjun whispered, completely out of strength and without any honorifics, and kissed him in an attempt to slow the emperor down at least a little.
He hoped it would buy him time to rest—but it had the opposite effect. Even more inflamed by the concubine’s submission, Soobin flipped him onto the tea table and began thrusting with renewed force into the wet, hot depths of him, coming deep inside after several sharp thrusts.
The sixth and seventh days also flew by in a haze. Yeonjun only noticed how the scenery changed as Soobin shifted his body, choosing positions that suited him. And in the end, Yeonjun never expected to find himself astride the emperor, actively moving his hips.
“Flower, you’re the most beautiful person in the world,” Soobin suddenly complimented him, gently stroking his flushed cheek.
“Ngh! I’m close,” Yeonjun said, sinking down onto the hot hardness again.
The head of the cock slid over the bundle of nerves, drawing a moan from Yeonjun—but he didn’t stop. Chasing his own release, he moved his hips more fiercely up and down while stroking his own cock with his hand. He wanted to come so badly that the desire was almost painful.
He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and, sinking all the way down to the base on the emperor’s cock, came heavily over their stomachs. His body shuddered from the intensity of the orgasm, and he let out a strained moan, looking into the emperor’s eyes through half-lidded lashes.
“My perfect Flower,” Soobin drawled warmly, leaning forward to kiss the concubine’s neck, then trailing his tongue down to one of the nipples reddened from bites and sucking it in.
Yeonjun hissed softly and braced his palms against the wall behind the emperor. Damn it—he really was losing his mind, and he couldn’t believe he had survived this week, nonstop fucking the emperor and completely ignoring the scheming plots of the other concubines behind his back. He felt too good right here and now. Nothing else mattered anymore.
***
Yeonjun could barely move or speak after the week-long marathon he’d spent with the emperor. The man truly turned out to be insatiable, and his words about having a lot pent up after weeks of being ignored had been the truth. Soobin took him on every surface, in every corner of the palace, seven days in a row, driving him to madness.
Yeonjun hadn’t even known there were so many ways to feel pleasure. On the eighth day, he finally managed to get proper rest and slept until evening, before someone woke him by gently stroking his hair.
“I’m getting up,” Yeonjun drawled sleepily, cracking one eye open to see who had disturbed his sleep.
And from the red hanbok with gold embroidery, Yeonjun immediately knew who was standing before him. And he had a pretty good idea why he’d been woken up, too.
“Again?” Yeonjun pouted in disappointment and, unable to resist, simply rolled onto his back and began removing his outer garments. “Do everything yourself. I’m very tired.”
“Actually, Flower, I only wanted to invite you to have dinner with me. You slept all day. Your stomach might start hurting if you don’t eat,” Soobin said.
Yeonjun immediately perked up and sprang out of bed, casting the emperor a skeptical look, as if still expecting a trick. But there wasn’t even a hint in his eyes that he planned to continue their mad marathon the very next second.
Soobin only smiled warmly and gestured toward a small table covered with a variety of exquisite dishes. At the sight of it, Yeonjun’s stomach growled.
Pushing the emperor aside, Yeonjun rushed to the food and began stuffing himself to his heart’s content with every delicacy in front of him. And, gods, it was a true paradise for his taste buds. Accustomed to eating nothing but ramen in his own time, he now devoured everything with gusto, not caring about table manners and eating straight with his hands.
“You really have changed,” Soobin noted, taking a seat across from Yeonjun and staring at him intently. “My Flower always used to wait until I joined the meal and ate very little. You, on the other hand, have quite the appetite.”
“No wonder, then, why your ‘Flower,’” Yeonjun mocked, making air quotes with his fingers, “couldn’t withstand the rest of the harem and died in agony in his chambers. He was too weak, constantly underfed. And you, apparently, only loved his beauty and his ability to spread his legs at the right moment, since you simply ignored everything else that was happening to him.”
Yeonjun tore meat off a chicken leg and chewed it fiercely before swallowing, completely missing how the emperor’s expression changed. Soobin froze at the concubine’s words, tensing as he reconsidered what he’d just heard. Only when Yeonjun reached forward for some pickled radish did he finally bother to look up at the emperor.
A chill instantly ran over his skin, and he froze, not understanding what he had done or said to make the emperor look like a man ready to destroy the world right now.
“What did you say?” Soobin asked.
“What did I say?”
“My Flower will die at the hands of the other concubines?” Soobin’s gaze turned icy, his fists clenching as anger flared in his blood.
“Yeah. The main one—what was her name… Ah, Jennie, right. She convinced all the others to get rid of me, and then—”
“Enough,” the emperor ordered, lowering his gaze. “If everything really is as you say, then be sure of this: I will do everything possible to make sure it doesn’t happen. I won’t allow you to die, Flower.”
***
No matter how Yeonjun tried to push the Emperor away, in the end they began spending more and more time together. Not only had they shared the same bed for a long while, but they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.
And though Yeonjun felt that the danger had not yet passed, that it was still waiting for him just around the corner, beside Soobin he felt safe. He hoped the promise the Emperor had given him had not been spoken in vain, and that he would truly protect him from all misfortune.
“Ah—” Yeonjun let out a muffled moan and jerked his hands, bound behind his back, the wood of the chair painfully digging into his skin.
His body treacherously trembled under the intoxicating touch of the Emperor’s hands on his skin. Breaking into a breathless moan, Yeonjun suddenly arched his neck when the Emperor took him deeper into his mouth, at the same time actively moving his slick fingers inside him. It was too much, and Yeonjun simply couldn’t endure it any longer.
But the Emperor continued to torment him with languid caresses, driving him closer and closer to the peak of pleasure. Yeonjun couldn’t see what Soobin was doing to his body—his eyes were bound once more—but he felt every slightest touch with every cell of his being. He felt the hot mouth and mischievous tongue on his body and—god—those long fingers inside him. Each movement struck precisely against that sensitive spot, and Yeonjun was only a step away from spilling.
“I’m close,” Yeonjun breathed out hoarsely, letting out a frustrated moan when the Emperor suddenly pulled away.
“Not so fast, Flower.”
Yeonjun whimpered softly at the commanding tone and held his breath when he felt чужие hands sliding along his thighs. The Emperor gently spread his legs and settled between them. Yeonjun barely had time to brace himself for finally feeling Soobin inside him when he was suddenly kissed and filled in one sharp thrust, all the way to the brim.
“Soobin!” Yeonjun cried out blissfully, coming heavily over his own stomach.
Seeing the melting state he had reduced his favorite to, Soobin smirked faintly and continued to move inside him. So hot and wet. Soobin had grown addicted to this intoxicating sensation. His sweet Flower. His alone. Soobin would not let this world destroy him.
“You feel so good, Flower,” Soobin breathed hotly against his ear, making Yeonjun shudder in shock and gasp at the closeness of their bodies. “If it were possible, I’d fuck you day and night, fill you to the brim, and watch you fall apart, moaning only my name while obediently spreading your legs wider.”
“Ngh!” Yeonjun couldn’t hold back, biting his lower lip in pleasure.
His body betrayed him with a shiver, reacting to every word torn from the Emperor’s lips. He truly was a master at saying the hottest and at the same time dirtiest things Yeonjun had ever heard. And he fucking loved it. He loved being so obedient and submissive for the Emperor and receiving his praise.
“I want you to be mine forever,” Soobin whispered, hooking a finger beneath the concubine’s sharp chin. “Flower, stay with me until the end of your life.”
Unable to resist the temptation of those inviting lips, Soobin leaned in closer, capturing them in a commanding kiss. He loved kissing Flower so much—conquering him, driving him mad. It was exactly what he needed.
Yeonjun belonged to him alone.
***
After spending a long time in the imperial palace, Yeonjun returned to the concubines’ courtyard with a sense of regret. He already knew with what contempt the others would greet him, but he tried not to stir unrest ahead of time. Still, lately Soobin had made sure he ate a hearty breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and now he was no longer the fragile Flower he once was.
Yeonjun could fight them all if he had to. Besides nourishing meals, Soobin had invited two of his best warriors—Kang Taehyun and Choi Beomgyu—to train him in many techniques. And to everyone’s surprise, Yeonjun picked everything up instantly. The Emperor, watching the training sessions from the side, praised every success—and at night rewarded him in various positions.
Seriously, Yeonjun ought to refuse him at least sometimes, because Soobin had completely lost restraint. He even started getting aroused when Yeonjun simply held a sword in his hands. The Emperor justified it by saying that a battle-ready Flower looked impossibly hot and sexy. Well, Yeonjun couldn’t exactly blame him for that.
Smiling at his memories, Yeonjun stepped onto the territory of the concubines’ courtyard. But before he could take even a single step toward his hanok, a crowd of enraged concubines led by Jennie came rushing toward him at full speed.
“You shameless sodomite!” Jennie swung her hand to strike Yeonjun across the face, but he reacted quickly and caught her wrist just inches from his cheek. “Bastard, let me go!”
“How dare you?” Yeonjun stepped forward, forcing the others to retreat and making Jennie shrink under his piercing gaze. “This face is flawless. If the Emperor sees so much as a scratch on his favorite’s face, what do you think he’ll do to all of you?”
“Think you’re special? Do you really believe the Emperor values you? To him, you’re just another whore obediently spreading your legs for him,” Jennie spat venomously, trying again to wrench free, but Yeonjun kept a firm grip on her wrist. “Cheap trash.”
“Oh? Is that so?” Yeonjun smirked and suddenly released her. “Then go ahead. Just don’t blame me for what happens afterward.”
Jennie froze for a moment, weighing her chances, then suddenly swung and delivered a sharp slap across Yeonjun’s face. His cheek flared with searing pain, but he endured it, certain of what would follow her action. Jennie had just signed her own death warrant. And that knowledge alone brought a carefree smile to Yeonjun’s lips.
“Smiling? Just wait—I’ll wipe that slutty grin off your disgusting face!”
Blazing with fury, Jennie raised her hand again to strike him when she suddenly froze as a loud shout rang out across the courtyard.
“Lay a hand on him one more time, and I’ll execute you on the spot!” the Emperor declared, rushing toward the quarreling concubines with his guards.
The girl immediately wilted, pulling the most innocent expression onto her face, once again trying to evoke sympathy. But she didn’t even suspect that it would no longer work, and that Yeonjun had long since warned the Emperor how cunning the women in the harem were and how skillfully they manipulated him with nothing but their expressions.
Yeonjun himself would sometimes show those very expressions to the Emperor, demonstrating exactly how well they worked on him. Who could have known that for those innocent looks, Soobin would fuck him right on the throne, whispering heatedly that Yeonjun himself was to blame.
“Your Majes—” Jennie tried, but she was instantly cut off.
“Enough. Drop the act,” Soobin growled, stepping up to the girl and lifting her face by the chin, forcing her to meet his eyes burning with displeasure. “Today you crossed the line. From this moment on, you are demoted to the rank of servant and may no longer remain within the palace grounds. Leave.”
“Your—”
“Leave!” Soobin raised his voice, making the girl flinch.
Unshed tears gathered in her eyes as her legs carried her away from the concubines’ courtyard. Yeonjun watched her go, inwardly triumphant, though he did not allow himself to fully relax. He had rid himself of the main schemer who had been putting sticks in Flower’s wheels throughout the entire novel—but there were others who, like her, might try to challenge him. It didn’t matter. Yeonjun would deal with them too. He would no longer allow Flower to suffer.
“Are you alright?” Soobin asked with concern, looking at the reddened cheek of his concubine.
“It’s fine, it’ll pass…”
Yeonjun didn’t have time to finish before Soobin suddenly pulled him close and gently kissed the injured cheek, as if trying to erase the mark of the slap. Though outwardly it did nothing, warmth spread through Yeonjun’s chest. The Emperor truly cherished him—not only his body.
“No one will ever dare lay a hand on my perfect Flower again,” Soobin added, carefully stroking Yeonjun’s cheek and smiling at him. “I promise.”
“You said so…” Yeonjun smirked, feeling the intimacy of the moment. “Flower is yours forever now too. Don’t let other weeds destroy him.”
“Never. We’ll be together in every universe, Flower, and in each one I’ll protect you until my last breath.”
A warm kiss followed his promise, sealing the vow. Now it was truly unbreakable.
***
Startling awake, Yeonjun shot upright in bed. His head spun as if from alcohol, though he couldn’t even remember drinking the night before. Beside him, a shirtless boy slept peacefully, arms wrapped tightly around his waist, but Yeonjun merely shrugged him off and headed to the bathroom.
Switching on the light, he approached the sink and turned on the water. Scooping cool water into his hands, Yeonjun washed his face, then stared at his reflection. The moment his eyes met his own gaze, all the memories suddenly surged back—of being the Emperor’s concubine, of saving himself from inevitable death.
Groaning as pain shot through his head, Yeonjun grabbed at his hair and stared blankly at one spot. Then, abruptly, he rushed back into the room to the pile of novels he had been reading the night before. Among them was the very one whose memories had just resurfaced in his mind. “The Emperor’s Flower.”
“What the—?!” Yeonjun burst out, only to freeze when someone insistently patted his shoulder.
“Hyung, come back to bed. It’s cold without you,” the blond-haired boy demanded, pulling Yeonjun straight into his arms.
“Soo… bin?” Yeonjun asked uncertainly, still not fully understanding what was happening.
The hesitant question only drew a smile from the half-asleep boy. Then he suddenly opened his eyes and flipped Yeonjun beneath him in one swift motion. Soobin’s face twisted with pleasure at once again managing to overpower Yeonjun and end up on top. And the sight was truly perfect.
“I promised that in any universe we’d be together, remember? You’re not escaping anymore, Flower.”
Yeonjun couldn’t believe that the novel’s so-called curse had turned out not to be a curse at all, but a true blessing. After living twenty-seven years in complete solitude, he had finally received that ray of light he had always dreamed of. Choi Soobin was the one Yeonjun had been waiting for all along—even if it had taken ending up inside a novel.
“One question: are you the author of this novel?” Yeonjun arched a brow, spreading his legs so Soobin could settle more comfortably over him.
The question remained unanswered—but from Soobin’s satisfied smile, Yeonjun understood everything on his own.