Sandara is the only child of the King of Koryu, which makes her the princess heir of her land. This fact has never been something she thought of. She had a simple, sheltered childhood. One that was filled with beautiful clothes, numerous toys, countless pretty artefacts. She had a predictably rich princess life. Of course, she studied history and language and arts, but only at the level expected of an aristocrat woman, being the heir to the throne only meant one responsibility: to marry the future king and continue her royal bloodline. It was just that simple.

Sandara never really thought much about ruling a kingdom though she knew that she was someone of some importance since the people seemed to adore her.

"Princess!" They would call out... It didn't matter where or when. There were a lot of events, a lot of procession where her only duties were to smile and receive flowers if they were handed to her. She neither liked nor disliked her people. She thought their love was something she given as her birth right. "Princess!" They would call her and she would smile and wave, and if she felt like it, she would bow. They were a loud bunch, those people.

She was spoiled as was expected, but she lacked the care to be rotten. Her queen mother passed before her second birthday, and though she should have been too young to know, her king father thought there was a touch of sadness on her, a touch that kept her from feeling anything too deeply.

Her King Father worried about her. Sandara was just not much of a child. She lacked the energy, the mischievousness, the curiosity. She wasn't a problematic child, which was exactly the problem. She was told what to wear, what to do, where to go, to smile, to bow, to use honourifics, and she did everything to the tee. She was seven when her King Father told her she has to marry the future king, and though it was obvious that she should be too young to care, but the king still thought that her reaction should be more than just, "As you will, Father."

So on her eight birthday, the King Father bought her a slave. The king was against slavery, but still he bought her daughter a slave boy. He had intended him to be like a brother to her... But knew the governors would not approve of such breach of social hierarchy if he adopted, so the boy was to be his daughter's as her page attendant. The king wanted to teach Sandara the fundamentals of human empathy, so he presented him to her in the rags he was bought in.

Sandara stared at the boy. The boy was barefoot and filthy, and he stared at her with piercing, untrusting eyes.

"From today, he is yours."

"Mine?" She asked bewildered. "But, father, what do I do with him?" She inquires, her little hand grasping at get father's sleeve.

"Do as you want, child?" The King cooed, and gave his daughter a little push.

The boy was filthy, fresh from the slave kennels and he wasn't pleasant to smell. Sandara had spent an hour in a bath of perfumes and milk and she wasn't really sure how anyone could stink so bad.

"You..." She begins, unsure. Everyone she spoke to were usually 'my lords' but the boy was clearly not a lord, so she struggled with addressing the other child, "ah," she looks back to her father who just smiled at her, "hm. Ah, what is your name?"

The boy stared back at the princess. He didn't know she was the princess. The only thing he knew was this girl was something made of light. She was brilliant like gold you pay for your freedom, like the sun that can defeat even the cruel cold bite of the winter snow. She wore shimmering fabrics that swayed at her every step. He felt an intense need to look away or he was sure he would go blind, but how does he look away? How does one look away from the sun when he was born and raised in the darkness.

"Your name?" The girl of the sun asked.

It was hard to find his voice. No one has spoken to him for so long. His mother was sold to someone when he was still too young. "Ah," he gasped. But his mother, she called him, "Seung hyun." The Victor. That was what his name meant. The Winner. "Choi Seung hyun."