My throat burned terribly.
It was like a ball of fire shot up from the stomach, burning through the esophagus and burning the heart and lungs. I tried desperately to open my eyes, but my eyelids felt like lead. The eunuch's high-pitched voice came to my ears, and every word was like a knife piercing my brain.
"The princess colluded with foreign ministers and planned to rebel. Your Majesty gave her poisonous wine and kept her body intact."
No.
I am not plotting rebellion. I can't even remember the names of the ministers in the DPRK. I am a princess. How could a silly princess who only knows how to embroider and play the piano all day long rebel?
