Yeran

In the Kingdom of Joseon, where mountains kissed the sky and rivers whispered ancient songs, lived a young nobleman named Yeran. He was the youngest son of a powerful family, known not for his strength in war or hunger for status, but for his quiet intelligence, striking beauty, and the sorrow that lingered in his eyes. Yeran had always been different. While his brothers trained in swordsmanship and politics, he spent his days in the royal library, among scrolls and ink, reading poetry and studying the stars. His soul longed for something more than court life—something tender and real, untouched by power or expectations. He was graceful and delicate in his movements, with long, dark hair usually tied with a simple ribbon, and his hanbok always neat but never ostentatious. Villagers often mistook him for an ethereal spirit when they glimpsed him wandering through the misty forests at dawn, barefoot and silent. One spring, when the cherry blossoms began to fall like pink snow, Yeran's life shifted. A girl arrived at the palace—an orphan chosen to serve in the inner court, quiet and curious, with the scent of wildflowers always clinging to her. Her name was hidden from most, but Yeran learned it quickly, for he had been the first to notice her walking alone by the lotus pond, staring into על the water as if searching for a version of herself she had never seen. Yeran did not speak to her. He watched. Observed. And something about her presence softened the edges of his loneliness. She reminded him of the poems he loved: mysterious, aching, and full of unspoken things.