One in a Billion [ Jihan ]

1510

Everyone wanted to know what or who was the inspiration of his Majesty King Yoon Jeonghan, who used to capture flowery lines in his beautiful paintings.

Tulips, roses, camellias and gardenias adorned his paintings. It seemed that the author of these works of art had an obsession with flowers, but every time someone asked him he just laughed along with the ticking of the clock in his studio. It marked six in the afternoon, causing the buds of its nocturnal flower to open to the world, causing the ethereal creature that took care of its enormous garden every night and that the monarch secretly guarded to appear next to them.

If someone looked closely at his painting, they could see the face of a red-haired young man hidden among the flowers just as Jeonghan saw him for the first time.

He waited nights and nights, wishing that the mystical being would notice how he was spying on him behind the curtains of the window of his room, he wished that his beautiful flower would turn to see him and while distractedly, who seemed to be his secret dream, he caressed the petals of the royal garden's flowers. In front of the window the king portrayed the ethereal view that his eyes treasured.

Months passed and with these he painfully fell in love with his flower, full of thorns but at the same time with a sweet fragrance with which he wanted to get drunk to the point of satiety.

The black hanbok with gold lace, his hair and lips red like rubies themselves, feline eyes that narrowed when she smiled, delicate movements, she seemed to dance while she was playing in her garden causing Jeonghan to have a thousand and one doubts about her sanity but never getting tired of his crazy and stupid love for the unknown being, all of that being a delirium and part of his imagination.

He feared that by speaking to her the charm of illusions would break since she was as fragile as a glass slipper.

The year was 1510, cherry blossoms adorned the pavement of the streets of what would be Kaesong in a few centuries. The singing of the birds could be heard and everyone carried out their work under the tranquility that reigned in those lands.

The familiar sound of footsteps on the fine wood on which the throne room sat caused, by inertia, both the soldiers and ministers who were there to make a pompous bow towards their monarch, King Yoon Jeonghan.

Angelic features, a copious raven hair organized in an imperious high ponytail, a mole under the right cheekbone, sleepy eyes, with a deep brown iris, his red and blue hanbok bathed in gold details elegantly pinked the floor, everything about him represented the perfection of a true king.

Under the cheers of those around him and numerous blessings Jeong Han took his seat on what he used to call his solitary throne.

He reviewed the demands of the citizens, approved reforms and decreed a couple of laws, that was his routine every morning.

Lunch time arrived and numerous dishes were served on the beautiful royal tableware. He tasted a little of each thing before returning to his work. Everything seemed like a typical day, but as night fell, the serenity that abounded in his castle was interrupted when the doors to the throne room were abruptly thrown open, announcing the arrival of unwelcome guests.

The soldiers lined up and tried to corner their objective but it was impossible; their adversaries seemed to greatly surpass them in numbers and strategy.

That was when everything seemed to make sense in the mind of the young monarch. Someone from the palace had betrayed him. He looked around and found said traitor. A tear adorned his cheekbones. His beloved queen had organized the plot in order to obtain the throne. He tried to search for a mistake he never made in order not to accept such an event, until when he saw his wife pointing in his direction he gave up.

A king should not abandon his subjects and that is why he fought alongside them fiercely even if it seemed like a lost fight.

Dying man crawled through the hallways trying to catch his breath after being attacked in an inhumane way. He could feel how his dazed body was being dragged and he did not object to that.

The sun's rays greeted him as soon as his eyes opened, perceiving himself alone in a huge room. The one with lazy eyes looked over every detail of what looked like a castle, different from the ones he was used to seeing. He recognized the British style and, alarmed, got up from his bed, leaving said place to find himself in a huge corridor that led to some wide stairs which took him to a living room, there an old woman with Asian features greeted him warmly.

"YooJin-ssi?" Jeonghan called that elderly woman who took care of him since he was a child but who had mysteriously appeared at the right time.-- What am I doing here? And the attackers

" Time to time, your majesty, your kingdom fell many years ago." Yoojin began to explain while wiping his hands on an embroidered handkerchief, being interrupted by who was once King Yoon.

"Years?"

"It took you three years to recover, we waited for you to improve naturally as a human before turning you, you were not going to tolerate the poison in the state that Jiwook and I found you in."

"What the hell are you talking about?" He cursed without understanding what the old woman with angelic features was telling him, only receiving in response a gesture in the direction of a huge standing mirror that lay in one of the corners of that large room appreciating its appearance. reflection in him as soon as he approached it.

His hair had been cut carelessly at the level of his shoulders, and his eyes looked invaded by a furious red. He gasped a couple of times, surprised by this change, now seeing how in her upper dentition, the fangs. of him they were elongated.

He believed that this was a myth, a story created by parents to scare children, but he never thought of becoming that monster that everyone secretly feared, who fed on blood, with skin cold as ice, an expressionless look and an infinite life decorated with bleeding petals.

His hands ran over his face, scared tremendously of what he had been transformed into. His gaze, pleading with him for a few words that would disprove his theory, rested on the old woman who denied it a couple of times before speaking.

"Yoon Jeonghan, you are a vampire."
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