The Cursed Prince and the Marking

Hair and skin as white as a ghost, with eyes tinged with the color of blood.

Muheun, the Third Prince, has spent his entire life confined to the Cold Palace as the symbol of the imperial family’s curse and calamity.

Due to Geonwon Kingdom’s conquest of the continent, he becomes a prisoner of an enemy nation.

And not just any prisoner—he falls into the hands of the enemy’s strongest supernatural ability user, who can freely manipulate iron…

What fate awaits the pure yet somehow eccentric imprisoned prince?

Muheun squeezed out what little strength he had and raised his arm, which was still trembling.

He suddenly grabbed the area around the neck of the armor covering Yoon’s torso and pulled him sharply toward himself.

Their faces came so close that they seemed almost about to touch.

“Do you know what the people of the world call me?”

“They say you were born carrying the curse and calamity of the Heeryeo Imperial Family. Looking at those eyes of yours, I can certainly understand the nickname Blood King.”

Above his violet eyes, tinged with blood-red, were long, densely packed white eyelashes.

Yoon did not miss the way those eyes trembled slightly.

Perhaps all that remains of this prince in name only, who has lived his entire life confined away from the world, is his meager pride.

That was all Yoon thought.

Suddenly, Muheun’s two hands cupped Yoon’s face.

His ten long, slender, snow-white fingers were trembling as well.

A bitter, blood-tinged smile appeared at the corner of Muheun’s lips.

“Then have you heard this rumor as well? They say that if the Blood King touches you, his curse will be transferred to you.”

Several gasps came from the people surrounding them.

Everyone’s eyes were focused on Muheun’s hands touching Yoon’s cheeks.

Yoon was also surprised by the unexpected action, but he did not show it.

He grabbed both of Muheun’s wrists and roughly pulled them away. Without releasing his grip on his wrists, he stared directly into Muheun’s eyes and retorted:

“How unfortunate. It seems this body has already been cursed, so a feeble attack like that would hardly make any difference.”

Yoon’s grip around Muheun’s slender wrists gradually tightened.