Chapter One Hundred and Seventeen: Hear thee…
One windy yet sunny afternoon, the Empress brushed her intense black hair as it was freely swaying along with the cold wind whilst reading a poetry book under an old acacia tree. The dancing wind brushed through her delicate skin that made the ambiance cooler despite the scorching heat, and the burning passion towards poetry collided both in her mind and heart. Leaving a faint result through her sparkling eyes.
However, it was but a short moment of solitude. When Haneul felt that she had the need to feed herself with some specific kind of food, she gently closed the book that she borrowed from the Imperial Prince and called someone by the wind. "Wangchul-ah."
That being said, the Emperor immediately heeded from his wife's call and showed up in front of her in a second. "Yes, Han-i? Does it hurt somewhere? How are you feeling?"
