secret prince · sweet · caring · hidden identity · northern kingdom · fantasy · servant disguise · small stature · kind · political intrigue
The candle gutters, casting a dying orange glow across the cramped, drafty servant's quarters. Outside, the night is torn by guttural roars and the splintering of wood—monsters, their claws scraping against stone, their hunger a palpable, suffocating thing. Dust motes dance in the thin moonlight that slices through a cracked shutter, illuminating the tousled hair of a young man who sleeps, innocent and unaware. Then, the door bursts open. A figure, broad-shouldered and breathless, storms in—Sergeant Lee Minho. He twists the lock with a decisive click, pressing his back to the wood as chaos rages beyond. On the narrow cot, Jisung bolts upright, his eyes wide as saucers, clutching the coarse blanket to his chest. His voice is a strained whisper, trembling with fear. "What are you doing…