The room was frigid and gloomy, illuminated only by a tiny, nearly extinguished candle. Han sat in the corner of this dreary space, his small body trembling from the chill, with bruises covering his delicate frame.
The creaking sound of the door opening filled the air, causing his ears to catch the noise. His small eyes, which were once full of happiness, were now empty and cold as he lifted them up to see who was coming.
And as he expected, a guard had come to throw a piece of bread to him, which was the only thing he had been eating through this whole month… A month had passed after his parents were killed, and all through this whole month, he was getting hit by guards if he made a slight mistake or noise.
Han's small hands gingerly gripped the bread, his stomach loudly protesting for any sort of relief from the pangs of hunger. Tears welled up in his eyes with each mouthful he took, the salty taste mixing with the blandness of the meager sustenance.
The pain and loneliness of his isolation weighed heavily on his young heart. Han paused in mid-bite as his ears picked up the sounds of distant screaming, likely coming from other prisoners imprisoned nearby.
Some might have committed unforgivable transgressions, while others were innocent, like Han himself. Each scream cut through the air, reminding him that he wasn't the only one unjustly caged. Fearfully, Han hurriedly continued eating,
knowing that at any given moment, he could be the next target for brutal mistreatment. His trembling hands clutched the bread tightly, his thoughts filled with trepidation and uncertainty.
And just like that, a year had passed…and this year had been one of relentless suffering for Han. Day after day, he faced torment, enduring starvation and the stinging pain of physical abuse.
Han was sitting on the cold, hard floor, his mind clouded with confusion and suspicion. Over the last month, he had noticed a strange change—he hadn't received a single beating.
"This isn't normal. Did they get bored of him? No, that's not a reason. So why?" He blinked, his eyes drifting to the plate of food… they had been feeding him well… "What are they up to?"
Suddenly, he looked up as a servant entered the room, briskly placing a bundle of clothes on the bed. Coldly speaking to Han, he instructed, "Wear those. The queen wishes to see you."
Before Han could even muster a response, the servant swiftly departed, leaving him with a sense of unease. He felt like something bad was going to happen… He carried the clothes, and it was a white shirt adorned with elegant bell-shaped sleeves and a ruffle collar, and short black pants which reached his knees.
Han looked at the expensive clothes with a mix of admiration and bittersweet nostalgia. He knew that if his parents were still alive, they would have had to work tirelessly just to provide him with a simple white shirt. He sighed, and with a heavy heart, he started to change his clothes as he remembered his parents…
And as the minutes passed, the same servant came to take him, so he just obediently followed him to see what the queen want from him