Birth Of Shadows

Lightning cracked across the night sky, echoing like a war drum over the palace rooftops. Inside the eastern wing, cries of agony pierced the silence as Mina—the king’s cherished concubine—fought for her life. Her fingers clutched the bed sheets, her body slick with sweat, blood pooling beneath her as midwives moved with frantic urgency.

“Her pulse is weak—she’s losing too much blood!”

Mina’s eyes fluttered open, pain and fear flickering behind them. “The baby?” she rasped.

“Still coming, My Lady—hold on!”

But she knew. Deep in her soul, Mina knew this pain was no accident.

Outside the chamber, Queen Haeun stood still as stone, cloaked in white silk, her hands folded like a devout widow at a funeral. She listened—patient, calm, calculating. Every scream from Mina’s chamber was music to her ears.

“She should have never carried his child,” the queen murmured coldly. “Make sure it ends here.”

The head midwife bowed, fear flashing in her eyes. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Mina’s final scream was drowned by thunder. A baby’s cry shattered the silence seconds later, a boy, healthy and loud, his fists clenched in defiance of fate. But Mina would never see him. Her eyes had closed forever, her lifeblood seeping into the silken sheets.

The midwives trembled as Queen Haeun stepped into the chamber, her gaze falling on the child.

“So this is the bastard that stole my crown,” she whispered, stepping closer, her hand raising ever so slowly...

“Step away from the child.”

The voice rang through the chamber like a blade being unsheathed. General Lee stood at the doorway, soaked from the storm, his expression unreadable but his hand firmly on the hilt of his sword.

Queen Haeun turned, composed but caught off guard. “General Lee,” she said, smoothly. “You’ve arrived unannounced.”

“I answer to the king,” he replied coldly. “He sent me to ensure the child’s safety.”

“A shame. The mother didn’t survive,” the queen said, eyes narrowing.

“Then the child is all the more precious.”

Without waiting for permission, General Lee stepped forward, cradled the crying infant in his arms, and turned on his heel. The queen did not move. She didn’t need to. She had planted enough poison already.

That night, under cover of darkness and storm, General Lee rode from the palace with the king’s only heir wrapped in linen and secrets. No fanfare. No guards. Just a grieving man defying a crown for the sake of a child born into betrayal.

He rode for hours until dawn broke over the hills of a quiet village—one far from the shadow of the palace. There, an old friend and his kind-hearted wife—a soldier turned farmer and a woman with arms made for cradling what the world had abandoned—would take the child in as their own.

And so, the prince became a ghost. A whisper. A nameless boy raised among commoners.

Unaware of the blood in his veins.

Unaware of the crown he was born to wear.

Meanwhile in the palace, king Dong Man was told by queen Haeun that both Mina and his son had died. King Dong Man wept for weeks and mourned the death of his beloved Mina. General Lee quietly observed him, was there for him and decided to reveal the truth at the right time…