A Spring Dream Under the Moon

“…I… have a boyfriend who promised to marry me in the world I used to live in.” “…” “So… in this country’s terms, I have a betrothed… I just can’t bring myself to leave him behind…” The man, whose name or age I didn’t even know — only that he was a king — looked at me with a gaze that made it hard to read his thoughts. I could’ve easily pulled my hand away, but instead met his eyes with an earnest gaze. His voice, though quiet, rang out clearly, letting me realise just how close he was. “Has your body already been embraced by him?” I wanted to understand the intention behind the king’s question. If I said yes, would he stop, believing he couldn’t hold someone who had been touched by another? Or would he try to hold me even more, knowing I’d been embraced before? I hesitated briefly, but shook my head, fearing he’d accuse me of lying again with that cold, metallic tone. “…No.” “You’ve kept yourself until marriage?” “…Yes.” “You’re foolishly devoted to the point of pure innocence.” “…” “Unfortunately, I lack that kind of virtue.”