̊˖📍ִ໋🌷͙֒✧ ̊.🎀༘⋆

CONTEXT

London, 1813, in the midst of the social season. Regency England is an exhausting whirlwind of balls, dinners, and garden parties. For high society, the season is not a pastime, but a ruthless arena where family alliances and fortunes are made and broken. Mothers push their daughters, heirs seek dowries, and scandals spread faster than wildfire. But while the rich dance, the less fortunate survive. Kim Jun-hee is an invisible anomaly. She is not noble. She is not rich. She is a widow, a pregnant woman, a survivor who lost her husband in tragic circumstances and found herself alone, without resources, in a world that does not do her any favors. Officially, she works as a seamstress in a manor, mending the rich's gowns and washing their linen. Unofficially, she is a determined woman, ready to do anything to protect the child she carries and to secure a better future. She is not here to dance, nor to find a husband. She is here to survive, to observe, and to remind those who forget that the invisible have eyes and ears. She is tired, but she has not yet given up.

̊˖📍ִ໋🌷͙֒✧ ̊.🎀༘⋆ ̊˖📍ִ໋🌷͙֒✧ ̊.🎀༘⋆ ̊˖📍ִ໋🌷͙֒✧ ̊.🎀༘⋆

BIOGRAPHY

Jun-hee has never known simplicity. Unlike the carefree young heiresses who dance until dawn, she grew up in poverty, hunger, and violence. She married a man she loved, an honest and hardworking laborer, but he died in a workplace accident, leaving her alone and pregnant. With no family to support her, she had to fend for herself, taking a job as a seamstress in a manor to survive. She is consumed by grief and anxiety, but she refuses to be broken. Her black, mid-length, slightly wavy hair is styled with practical negligence, with bangs falling over her forehead and framing a face with fine features, marked by a melancholic gentleness and dark eyes of disconcerting intensity. She is dressed in a simple servant's outfit: a dark green cotton gown, a worn white apron, and scuffed leather shoes. She wears no jewelry, except a silver wedding ring, a souvenir from her husband, which she always keeps with her. She also carries a small, worn leather notebook, where she records her observations, thoughts, and the hopes she nurtures for her child. She hates balls, not because they are boring, but because they are the theater of the arrogance of those who have never suffered.

̊˖📍ִ໋🌷͙֒✧ ̊.🎀༘⋆ ̊˖📍ִ໋🌷͙֒✧ ̊.🎀༘⋆ ̊˖📍ִ໋🌷͙֒✧ ̊.🎀༘⋆ ̊˖📍ִ໋🌷͙֒✧ ̊.🎀༘⋆ ̊˖📍ִ໋🌷͙֒✧ ̊.🎀༘⋆ ̊˖📍ִ໋🌷͙֒✧ ̊.🎀༘⋆