The blade did not pierce Minsoo's flesh.
Instead, it stopped a breath away from her chest.
The hall fell into stunned silence. Minsoo's eyes were squeezed shut, her entire body trembling as she waited for pain that never came. When she slowly opened her eyes, the king's sword hovered in the air—steady, deliberate.
The king's lips curved into a slow, unreadable smile.
"Open your eyes," he commanded.
Minsoo obeyed, her heart pounding violently against her ribs.
"Do you know why you still live?" the king asked calmly.
She shook her head, unable to speak.
"Because death would be too merciful for you."
A murmur rippled through the elders seated behind him. The king lowered his sword and turned away, his robe sweeping the polished floor.
"This woman," he continued, his voice echoing through the hall, "possesses a dangerous talent. Food that alters the senses. A taste that clouds judgment. Power disguised as skill."
Minsoo swallowed hard.
"I meant no harm, Your Majesty."
The king turned sharply, his eyes dark.
"Silence. You will speak only when asked."
She bowed immediately.
The eldest member of the council stepped forward.
"Your Majesty, what is your verdict?"
The king paused, as though savoring the moment.
"She will live," he said slowly. "But from today onward, she shall become the Head Palace Chef."
The words struck Minsoo like lightning.
Her heart skipped violently, her mouth falling open in disbelief. Anger flared in her chest.
A mere palace chef? she thought bitterly. I was the top competitor in my world. I won awards. I built a career with my own hands. And now he wants to chain me here?
Around her, the elders erupted into outrage.
"A woman?"
"As head chef?"
"This is unacceptable!"
Their voices overlapped in furious protest.
"Silence!" the king roared.
Instantly, the hall fell quiet.
"My decision is final," he said coldly.
He motioned to the guards.
"Take her away."
Minsoo was dragged back to the prison, her thoughts burning with fury and fear. By nightfall, the news had spread through the entire village.
She told Miso everything.
The next morning, guards returned and escorted both Minsoo and Miso out of the prison—not to the courtyard, but to the palace kitchen.
Inside stood several men, all dressed in chef attire. Their expressions hardened the moment they saw Minsoo.
Introductions were ordered.
The first man stepped forward.
"My name is Dal. I am the head of the kitchen. Everyone here learns from me."
The second spoke proudly.
"I am Jihoo. I am the fastest chopper—ingredients are ready in seconds."
The third nodded stiffly.
"My name is Sung-Ho. I assist the chefs in their daily duties."
The fourth crossed his arms.
"I am Seol. I prepare the king's meals."
When the guards left, hostility filled the kitchen.
The men made Minsoo and Miso's lives unbearable.
Snakes were hidden inside cooking pots.
Cockroaches were scattered across the floor.
Fires were turned dangerously high, burning her dishes.
By nightfall, exhausted and shaken, Minsoo and Miso were dragged back to their prison. They cried quietly, wondering what they had done to deserve such cruelty.
The next day, a royal order echoed through the palace.
Minsoo was to prepare the king's meal.
The news spread quickly—until it reached Miya.
The king's concubine was furious. Never once had the king asked her to cook for him.
She ordered a silk dress prepared immediately and commanded that her arrival be announced.
Meanwhile, Minsoo finished the meal.
A court lady escorted her into the king's chambers.
The moment Minsoo entered, the king's eyes fixed on her. He watched her every movement as she served him, a faint smile playing on his lips.
When she stepped back, the king gestured to the court lady.
"Taste it."
It was tradition—no king ate before his meal was tested.
The court lady took a bite.
Her head spun slightly.
"Oh my… Your Majesty," she breathed, "it is delicious."
The king smiled.
He picked up his spoon and began to eat.
Then he spoke without looking away from Minsoo.
"Leave us."
The court lady bowed and exited, closing the doors behind her.
Minsoo stood alone with the king.
And for the first time since arriving at the palace, she felt it clearly—
She was no longer just a prisoner.
She was his.
⸻