Min Yun Ki.
The man, the myth.
To say that the King had reformed drastically, would be a heavy understatement.
He'd become somewhat gentle in his demeanour.
Somewhat, softer if that made any sense to Soojin as she sat beside him, overlooking the mob of commoners that had peddled over to the Kingdom, asking for the Queen's presence at the Lunar Harvest festival.
The Lunar Harvest festival was a yearly event, celebrated by the people of Baekmin, to welcome to Gods of rain, to bestow upon them the blessing of water to flourish their crop yield.
Baekmin was an independant Kingdom.
They relied on no external powers or neighbouring territories for their livelihood.
This festival was of prime importance.
The King attended the event every year, drawing his majestic sword onto the land of the seed sown crop field, as an inauguration.
The past few years hadn't been particularly easy on Baekmin.
Yun Ki had alienated his Kingdom from the others, when he took control.
