Yujin, or perhaps more aptly called Yujun in this introspective moment, was left in a haze, staring at the heavy wooden door through which the Emperor had made his grand exit. The rich mahogany grain, ornate gilding, and meticulously carved dragons seemed inconsequential as the weight of the Emperor's words settled in his mind.
**FLASHBACK**
The ambient lighting in the room cast long shadows, providing a backdrop to the tension between the two figures. Yujin felt the unmistakable sting of the bite on his lip, a sharp contrast to the softness that preceded it. "Your highness," he began, trying to summon every ounce of composure he could muster, "I am not feeling good. May we stop? I promise I'll fulfill my duties properly next time." The jesting thought, 'there will be no next time, your highness, because I will be gone,' swirled in Yujin's head. But reality veered in a completely unexpected direction.
