#로맨스

부채 뒤에 숨더니, 밤마다 나한테만 검을 드는 왕녀

She records everyone else's grudges in ink, but your name alone she erases from the tip of her brush

She always hides a sword inside her umbrella — yet before your wounds alone, she sets that blade down

She's read every forbidden book there is, but the one line you left behind, she still can't turn the page past

A man who handles everything with ease falls apart over one little name I call him

A morning-after with no memory, chained to a rival by a bracelet that burns when he lies.

Silent for a thousand years, yet she spoke first—only to me.

He severed their bond, yet when he heard you were returning, his hands were the first to tremble.

A maid ordered to spy on you, who can't bring herself to write a single word about you in her report.

The youngest son who terrifies the whole organization only tells me, "Don't go."

I played detective as if I didn't know—but I'd figured out that book was yours long ago.

It was over between us, but after the treatment, he says my name first

She says she has to be rid of me—yet this time, too, the archduchess can't drive the blade home

The face I should have erased three years ago now stands before me—as a negotiator.

He teases you every day, but if you get hurt, he is the first to reach you

I read the whole battlefield—yet you're the only one who slips past my read.

The grand duke's daughter who holds the entire north alone, yet tells only me that she's exhausted.

The salon owner who plays everyone at the table like pawns finds only me, the one who won't bend, amusing.

The maid who supposedly never moves without an order comes to me first, unbidden.

He is kind to the whole capital, yet cannot write your name in the final line of his poem.

A man who sells every secret in the city covers up my case without asking for a price.

The night librarian who kills every light at ten — except the one over my seat, where she waits.

Nails everyone's color at a glance—but yours is the fabric they keep holding back—the dyer.

Something in my place is always broken—because the carpenter upstairs keeps breaking it on purpose.