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Jimin, the main commander general of the demon realm, stepped into the vast dark hall. Long black walls stretched endlessly on either side, dissolving into a wild, towering jungle of shadow, its jagged silhouettes rising beneath an open night sky. In this realm, night ruled almost without exception, broken only on rare occasions by the dull glow of a distant red sun.
Her footsteps echoed as she moved forward, the air cool and heavy around her. At the far end of the hall, a throne loomed high above a long flight of stairs. It was immense and lavish, carved with sharp, elegant lines that caught the light. Crimson lanterns hovered above it, their glow deliberate and unmistakable, marking the throne as the heart of power. Jimin walked toward it without hesitation, her presence as commanding as the seat that awaited her.
Jimin dragged her largest sword behind her, her signature weapon, its immense weight known to bow to no one but her. She held the golden hilt tight in her fist, fingers steady, unstrained. The tip scraped against the stone floor as she walked, the harsh sound echoing through the hall, a reminder of the strength only she possessed.
She wore a tight black turtleneck with long sleeves that clung to her frame, stark against the darkness around her. Her shoulder-length black hair framed her face, stirred slightly by a passing breath of night air, yet her posture never faltered. Her steps were firm, her gaze lifted and unwavering as she advanced.
She stopped beneath the throne.
Beside it stood someone else.
Someone known throughout the realm for her striking beauty. The crown princess of the demon realm, Minjeong.
Minjeong turned toward her. Her expression carried sorrow, softened by a voice melodic enough to weaken even Jimin, who was said to be unbreakable. The sound of it had always gone straight to her knees.
“Oh,” Minjeong said quietly, eyes lingering on her. “You're here… you really came.”
Jimin sighed, lifting her gaze to the princess. Her pupils trembled with something dangerously close to love, but duty pressed heavier, sharper. Responsibility was not just something she carried. It was the core of who she was. She nodded once, eyes falling shut as if to steady herself.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Minjeong stood radiant beside the throne, dressed in red. The gown bared her shoulders, while the skirt spread wide across the stone floor, layered and voluminous, giving her a regal, overwhelming presence. Her crown and jewelry caught the crimson light from the lanterns above, glowing as if the light itself bent for her. Perhaps only Jimin could stand before such beauty without faltering. And yet, she suffered quietly, because out of everyone in this world, she loved the princess most.
Minjeong began to speak.
“Jimin, I wait for you through long nights and longer days.”
She descended the stairs slowly, never breaking eye contact. Her hands were held in an elegant, composed posture, though emotion threaded through every movement.
“Each day lasts far, far longer for me than it does for anyone else.”
She reached the bottom and continued toward Jimin, her voice soft but resolute.
“When you go to war, everyone says it is for the best. That only you can do it. I feel so much pride for you.”
She stopped in front of her. Gently, almost reverently, Minjeong raised a hand and cupped Jimin’s cheek, guiding her face upward. A scar cut across Jimin’s upper cheek, old but still prominent, a mark left behind by a war years ago.
Jimin dared to meet her eyes.
The moment she did, something inside her gave way. She melted inwardly, though nothing showed on her face. Minjeong’s eyes were her most powerful weapon, and Jimin had never learned how to defend herself against them.
High above the throne, animal heads with massive horns jutted from the black stone on either side, ancient and watchful. Jimin barely registered them. All she could think about was cupping Minjeong’s face in her hands, shielding her from the world, because she looked like something impossibly precious, like a ruby carved too perfectly to exist.
Minjeong spoke again, her melodic voice matching her infinite beauty, every word sinking straight into Jimin’s chest.
“But what do I do if I long for you?” she asked softly. “If I miss you and stay awake all night, sitting on the windowsill, looking down at the roads leading to this castle and its towers, waiting for you every night?” Her fingers brushed Jimin’s skin as she continued, quieter but no less intense. “And what do I do if I want you so much?”
Jimin turned her face away, Minjeong’s touch still lingering against her cheek. Minjeong tilted her head slightly, pleading eyes lifting to meet her, eyes that still held power over anyone, and especially over Jimin.
Jimin closed her eyes. Devastation threaded through her voice as she spoke, her gaze drifting briefly around the dark hall, as if grounding herself in the weight of it.
“I lead a very dangerous life, Your Majesty.”
She drew a breath, steady but strained.
“The purpose of it is to protect everyone,” she said, then corrected herself quietly, “but first and foremost, you.”
Slowly, she turned back to Minjeong. Her hands still hovered near Jimin’s shoulders and face, their gazes locked, emotion bare in Minjeong’s eyes.
Jimin spoke again, her tone both serious and aching.
“My purpose is protecting you. If I give my heart to you, my princess, I make your greatest weakness far too fragile.”
Minjeong looked up at her and sighed, unaware of how every small movement she made was devastating in its effect. Then she lifted her gaze again and leaned forward, sliding her arms around Jimin’s waist. She looked up at her with eyes no one had ever had the strength to refuse, not even the main commander general of the demon realm.
Her chin came to rest against Jimin’s chest as she spoke, her voice low.
“Then just for one night.”
She paused, breath warm against Jimin’s skin, before continuing.
“Give me a taste for one night. So maybe I can imagine my way out of all this longing that will come.”
That was all it took.
Jimin released her sword. It fell to the stone floor with a heavy, echoing thud. In the same breath, she wrapped her arms around Minjeong’s waist and back, her grip firm and unyielding, as if she were afraid to let go. She pulled her close and kissed her, all restraint finally breaking under the weight of want she had carried for far too long.
