The clouds of Gloom.

They coat over Baekmin in a grey so distinct, the air grows dry and the tiles grow cold.

They pierce into your lungs and you feel as though breathing in was a struggle.

They grow in your lungs, they travel through your body, moulding it and most importantly, moulding you.

Baekmin was never prepared.

Never prepared to face the storm that the 2 twins brought into the world, in a whirlwind.

One that the Royal Priest deemed as the whirlwind of monstrosity.

The Queen withered in bed.

Her bloated stomach, full with a child that was too big for his own good.

Of course, technology wasn't a blessing and the hands of a physician could only feel over the amniotic sac and never, inside it.

Agh, she'd have pain in her knees, one that'd radiate up her back, making her tingly.

Her feet would swell up, they'd be like bloated masses, waiting to explode.

No essential oil rubs could take away from her, the swelling in her legs, one that had been caused due to fluid imbalance.

The pressure her baby applied over her Vena Cava, every time she bent forward, to the point it blocked out her lower body.

The Queen would cry at night, pain becoming increasingly unbearable as she advanced through her pregnancy.

She'd faint occasionally.

Felt as though her intestines were caving in.

Her physical couldn't quite decipher what she often meant when she felt as though her heart was sinking, an ominous feeling, intensifying as her bump grew larger and stoicer with every passing day.

"Royal Pain!" The Queen's mother-in-law would chime, tutting at her situation.

"A little devil in there, seems like it." She'd breathe down her daughter-in-law's neck.

The Queen would protectively hold her belly, waddling away to her chamber, tended to by her flock of maidservants, who shared her hardships, stood by her at foot.

Seokmin would come and pat his mother's belly.

Hell, he'd sing lullabies to his expectant brother or sister.

The way Seokmin stared at the bump with hearts in his eyes, comforted the Queen.

By the time she was in her last and final trimester, the Physician sensed that the pregnancy was rather complicated.

Someone would die, said the Royal Priest.

It was inevitable.

The Queen and King spent hours in therapy, stretching her hips, that'd hurt as though they were seated upon by a tons worth of load.

Her pelvis throbbed and her mother in law cursed at her for not having a shape fit enough to pass a second child into the world.

"Min Il, the woman is not fit to carry any more children. You must bring in another Wife, one with curvaceous hips, endowed enough to carry the load of Baekmin."

He'd smile at her, rubbing her arm affectionately.

"Eomma, I respect your decision and I've abided by them all however, love is to be shared by one man and woman, for lifetime. Abandoning her for another woman would be to cheat on love and I'm in love with love."

King Min II was a god-sent man, most believed.

He'd fallen in love with the Princess of Gyonju and had married her after a brief period of courting.

He was a supportive and devoted husband.

He spent nights with The Queen, sneaking into her chamber at the lull of the night, much against the Rules by which The Palace operated.

He'd coo at her, rub affectionate caresses down to her bloated tummy, blowing raspberries.

How the nights would pass in his arms, his loving gestures and kisses, The Queen wouldn't know!

He'd dress up as a commoner and fetch all his wife's street food cravings.

He'd pick Jasmine off of the Garden and greet her with the sweet aroma of the flower, every morning.

It was therapeutic, he believed.

The baby will grow attatched to the fragrance, he'd claim as The Queen peered at him with confused eyes.

He looked after Seokmin, for the two parents were resolute in not having him brought up by maidservants.

He needed to have a normal upbringing, they'd say.

He was the future of Baekmin wasn't he?

The clouds of Gloom took over Baekmin the day the Queen's water broke.

Seokmin fell ill.

He'd contracted Mumps.

Mumps which no one in The Palace had caught.

One that was a rare occurrence.

"It's a bad omen!" The Priest claimed, sprinkling holy water over the child's feverish body.

Both his submandibular salivary glands were swollen, his temperatures were high and the child developed rashes all over his torso.

Having been a rare occurrence back then, little to no treatment was available.

The only way was to treat the symptoms.

Seokmin withered in bed, cold towel placed over his forehead and the oil of clove applied over his gums and cheek, to give relief.

"Eomma.." He'd cry, tears hot and fresh rolling down his eyes.

His head throbbed and heart rate escalated.

He was critical, they said.

The news was concealed from The Queen, fearing she'd go into distress.

The King had chosen to stand by his son, replacing the cold wet fabric over his head, feet tapping, thinking of his wife.

She'd understand him being with the eldest son.

The king wasn't someone who was a firm believer in kismet or fate.

Rather, he'd dismissed it as being ridiculous make-believe woven to control the actions of a man gone astray.

He'd even laughed at the times his wife bowed her head before the Supreme Power.

"Shouldn't you be bowing before me? I do own quite some power." He'd comment, smiling and pulling his wife by the waist.

She'd smack his chest, curling into him.

However, when the situation was dire and matters of life and death troubled the Royal Family, things were different altogether.

Times like these made King Min II believe that the Priest's words were rather true.

There was just one place that could calm his beating heart.

So he kneeled down in the prayer room, hands clasped in reverence.

"God, I firmly believe we bear the fruit of our wrongdoings in this birth but please don't punish my children or my wife, who has been nothing but a pillar of support and integrity.' Allow me to bear the punishment of the immoral actions me or my Ancestors have committed. Please spare the innocent!"

He prayed and prayed, until a knock was heard.

His wife had delivered twins.

2 healthy boys.

Yet, their entry into the world had ensued chaos.

Perhaps, God was kind to Min Il, his eldest son recovered almost immediately, 7 minutes after the first baby emerged from his wife's birthing canal.

The second son had saved Seokmin, they say.

The first cackle of his cry had infused in Seokmin, a bout of energy.

The first breath he took had replenished life in Seokmin's chest.

He was the Golden Child, Min Yun Ki.

That's what they all believed.

Yong Sun and Yun Ki, the twins.

It's funny what 7 minutes does to you.

It can turn one into a Devil and the other, into a Saint.

The Queen was warned about her sons. She was well aware that one would tarnish the family's reputation and tear it to shreds.

The King had asked her, even.

"We can get rid of the child, if you want? I-I know how high you hold mother's opinions. But, this is a decision we can take. Just say the word." He cooed.

The Queen smiled at his words, shaking her head.

"Denying Yong Sun would be like rejecting God's blessing. Besides, we have Seokmin and Yun Ki, it'll be okay. They'll keep him good, I'm sure of it." She responded, cradling little Yong Sun in her arms as he'd been coined The Cursed Child.

"We'll name him Yong Sun. The embodiment of Eternal Goodness. He will strike a balance between Seokmin and Yun Ki." She whispered, kissing the flushed skin of the baby who stared at her with utmost wonder.

This was the past, where the Queen had chosen to save her middle son, deeming him a blessing from Divinity and it was in the present that Yong Sun had assassinated and murdered his mother, so brutally.

"Old hag!" He spat on her white silk bedsheet, kicking her severed head off of the bed, causing it to roll down and fall onto the wooden flooring with a loud thud.

"Yong Sun, you're better than this!" He mocked, collecting the blood that had been gushing out of her dissected carotid artery and writing out a letter to his younger brother.

"I came into your Kingdom and I murdered our own mother, cutting her up like a Lamb being sacrificed. She is my sacrifice. Let her death break you into pieces. Let the only hand that showered you with blessings be rotting with Father's." He laughs to himself, using his mother's lifeless fingers as a brush to write out each letter, dipping it in her own blood.

He laughed like a maniac, watching the old hag's eyes roll back into her skull.

She was rather well put for someone so old.

He climbs down the bed, reaching her severed head.

"You said I was better dead than alive and yet, look at you now! You're the one whose lost her life. Aish Eomeoni, if only you'd been better to me and treated me as your little Min Yun Ki, who bears nuts the size of almonds I chew on, Everyday. Alas! You were blind, much like Father. Rest In Peace, Eomma!" He coos at her, dropping a kiss over her forehead before jumping out the window.

Agh, the Chief Guard was a saviour.

He was just in time to bring with him the best possible news.

But rage took over him, he still hadn't nailed Soojin.

No worries, he'd have plenty of chances to lay his hands over her.

Perhaps soon, he thinks as he grabs onto the red hemp rope, sliding down three stories, effortlessly.

He dusts off his hands and walks out, whistling.