Soojin had started dreaming.
She couldn't remember the last time she was able to sleep peacefully.
Her mind that bore dreams and stories had run barren at the tender age of 12 after her Father's demise.
After all, he was the one who introduced her to the world of 'make-believe', the world of Fiction and took her innocent unexplored mind to the distant lands of right and wrong, where Princesses were stronger, had the world bowing before them, where they were given equal opportunities, were loved and cherished.
Where being a woman was the biggest boon and never a bane.
She'd stopped venturing into these illusions, where she once was comfortable and happy.
She couldn't remember not feeling like her hands were tied behind her back in shackles that were decorated with thorns around its periphery, piercing her bound wrists, enough to draw blood.
She's wake up gasping, clutching at her chest, draped in her own sweat on an empty cold bed, opposed to the nightmares and visions that had her feeling as though she lay on cold marble, naked and drenched in her own blood that gaped out of her wrists and a hole in her heart, that refused to heal.
She'd also sometimes find herself on the top of a steep slope, faced with dead waters on one end and a fall on the other.
There were clouds of inevitable death that surrounded her at all times.
Even in her own dreams, Soojin wasn't once happy.
Especially after being married to The Monarch, she'd have dreams of her being executed in the court, before her Mother in the crowd of the many villagers who gathered around to watch her painful death.
She'd dream of Yun Ki's scar, up close and personal.
She'd envision his cold and clammy hands around her neck, choking her and sucking every ounce of breath in her body until she woke up jostling in her new royal bed, withering amidst the linen.
Things however, had changed.
Changed especially after she met her Husband's twin.
The guy whose eyes bore earnesty and reminded her of her father's gentle eyes.
They were so dark and staring into them would push you into the deepest and darkest parts of your heart.
Ever since she'd started meeting up with the twin, she'd find her heart starting to beat at an abnormal rate, her veins and vessels constricting, leaving her breathless.
But, a pleasant kind of breathlessness.
The kind of breathlessness that makes you believe that jumping off a cliff wouldn't be painful or the one, that'd fill her stomach with tingles and an incredibly light feeling.
It was as though the shackles had loosened up.
It was as though she could finally restore all the lost out and forgotten belief in humanity, for he made her feel acknowledged.
No, he hadn't touched her.
However, she so wish he did.
Her carnal desires for him had transcended her into a world where she often found herself laying snuggled in his warm embrace, drawing lines over his tense biceps, watching his pale skin contract before her eyes.
She'd started dreaming of having her fingers travel the expanse of his well build chest, how the ripples of his pectorals would feel in contrast to his hard perched out nipples and goosebumps that'd cover his body from her light and teasing touch.
She dreamt of dominating him.
Serving him right.
Having the fire that had lit up in her loins extinguished by this man who's face read out care and affection but hands threatened to have her quivering and rubbing the heel of her foot against the expensive linen of the Kingdom bed where she had married his twin.
How she'd enjoy getting herself off to a man who bore a face similar to her husband but a mind and heart as clean as an empty chit and as open as the thinnest book, her moans and whines filling the corridors, falling over her Husband's chamber door.
She'd dream of him and her with their hands intertwined, running across The Garden of Jasmine, rejoicing over the burning remains of the cold Monarch who'd enjoy shoving her around like a rag doll.
Oh, how she was looking forward to overthrowing her arrogant King and having the throne replaced by the more deserving twin.
The deserving twin, who'd be granted access to what lay beneath her kind and gentle exterior.
The twin who'd fill her up and have her walk around the Kingdom so full of his baby, the future heir of Baekmin.
Oh she'd be so round and engorged.
Just the thought of having herself impregnated by the greasy rough handed, scaly twin had her rubbing her wet thighs against each other, the arousal sticking to her soiled cotton and dripping past the edges down the stretch of her tense and glistening thighs.
He was making her see dreams she hadn't been entitled to ever since she was 12.
She was starting to enjoy the feeling.
She was starting to take pleasure in thoughts of him.
She was starting to venture into the world of 'make-believe'.
And Poor Min Yun Ki had no idea.
Or, did he?