"Jade, you too have worked hard."
Jade inclined his head, though his reply was no more than a faint, fleeting smile—one that revealed little, yet concealed much.
The procession began to move toward the royal hall, lanterns swaying in the night breeze. At the Queen's side walked Moonsen, his step measured, his bearing calm, as though his presence itself were a quiet shield for his sovereign.
Jade stood in silence, his eyes fixed on the queen and Moonsen as they spoke in low, unhurried tones. Their words did not reach him, yet the gentleness between them did, settling like a stone in his chest.
Beside him, Deputy Commander Danjin clicked his tongue, unable to hide his astonishment at the shadow crossing Jade's face.
'So even Minister Jade harbors such feelings?'
For years, Danjin had known him only as the unshaken commander—stern when discipline was demanded, merciful when kindness was due, flawless as steel tempered by fire. Never once had he glimpsed this fragile thread of humanity, this raw, unguarded moment etched upon Jade's countenance.
The discovery unsettled him more than he wished to admit. Only now did he sense how little he had truly understood the depths of Jade's heart toward their sovereign.
At last, Danjin ventured, his voice cautious as if disturbing a still pond,
"Minister Jade…?"
Jade stirred, as though waking from a dream. His gaze tore reluctantly from the queen and Seong-won, their figures receding into the evening light.
Danjin shifted, attempting a smile that faltered under the weight of the silence.
"Why not go to Her Majesty?"
Jade regarded him, his eyes unreadable, as though the question itself were foreign.
With a hesitant chuckle, Danjin pressed on.
"You have scarcely shared a word with Her Majesty alone. Always, we journey together as one body. Yet now, as she withdraws to rest… perhaps it would be good if you…"
His voice trailed off, leaving the suggestion to hang between them like incense smoke, fragile and fleeting.
Jade's composure cracked for but a breath. His reply came too swiftly, his voice betraying what his face strove to conceal.
"I… I know not what you speak. Come—let us return to the warriors."
He seized the reins with a sharp tug, turning his steed abruptly. Hooves struck the earth with impatient force as he urged the horse toward the warriors' encampment, the movement almost too sudden for a man of his usual measured grace.
Danjin could not help but laugh, a grin spreading across his weather-worn face. The sight of the ever-collected minister so undone was rare indeed, like watching frost melt in spring sunlight.
"Minister Jade—wait for me!" he called, spurring his mount after him with playful haste.
Following close behind Queen Genie, Moonsen halted at the foot of the royal hall. The evening light fell upon the broad stone steps, painting long shadows across the courtyard. He bowed low before lifting his voice.
"That concludes my report on the affairs of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Your Majesty."
Genie inclined her head, her expression composed.
"The preparations for the Ash Kingdom's cultural envoy are nearly complete. You have done well."
Moonsen allowed a faint smile and shook his head.
"It was nothing, Your Majesty. Then, may I take it that you will depart for the Asu Kingdom as scheduled next week?"
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Genie's gaze wavered, and her answer came softer than expected.
"I fear I will not be able to."
Moonsen's brows rose, his voice catching with surprise.
"Then, you will not be going?"
"That is correct," Genie said with quiet finality. "I shall inform the warriors myself. Lord Seong-won, see that the ministers of Foreign Affairs are told."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Moonsen replied at once, though unease lingered in his tone. "I will deliver the message faithfully."
"Good, then."
Genie turned, her robe trailing like flowing ink across the stone as she ascended the steps. Yet before she could pass through the carved wooden doors, Moonsen's voice halted her.
"Your Majesty…"
She paused, her back to him, the court ladies holding their breath behind her. Slowly, she turned her face toward him.
"May I ask the reason… Why can't you go?"
Her lips parted, but no words followed. The silence between them seemed to weigh heavier than any reply. At last, Seong-won bowed his head, flustered.
"No—never mind. You need not say it, Your Majesty."
"Very well then…" Genie said at last, her voice distant.
With measured steps, she entered the royal hall, the court ladies sweeping after her like shadows at twilight.
Moonsen remained where he stood, watching her vanish beyond the threshold. Trouble pressed upon his chest, his thoughts churning.
'Surely… nothing has befallen Her Majesty?'
Draped in but a single layer of pale silk, Queen Genie lowered herself into the wooden bathing tub where warm water lapped against her skin. The heat seeped into her weary limbs, loosening the knots of travel and care, until her breath escaped in a long, quiet sigh. Resting her slender back against the smooth rim, she lifted her chin toward the open ceiling above.
There, beyond the rafters, the heavens unveiled themselves—an ocean of black silk studded with a thousand cold, glittering stars.
"How beautiful…" Her whisper drifted like incense into the night, fragile and fleeting, as if it belonged to the stars themselves.
Her gaze lingered until her lashes grew heavy, and in that half-light of drowsiness, the days behind her unfurled once more—the perilous journey, the tense meeting with Gangcheol, the dreaded bandit chief, and the negotiations that had, against all foreboding, yielded peace.
His voice yet clung to her memory, raw with grief and sincerity:
"I have waited all my life for my father's unjust death to be acknowledged. Now that His Majesty has spoken with his own lips, I no longer wish to raise my sword against this land. I will live henceforth as one of Hana Kingdom's people. But, Your Majesty, I beg you—look after the men who have followed me until now."
He had not been the savage she had braced herself to meet. No bloodthirsty beast, but a man weathered by sorrow, stripped of pride, bound only by grief and loyalty.
'How deep must his torment have run?' she thought, her heart softening, like ice breaking at the thaw. 'May he now find rest beneath our sun, and his men a home among our fields.'
Yet even as gratitude warmed her chest, unease coiled like a serpent within. Another voice lingered, spoken days earlier on the road to the bandits, hushed but unshakable.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but your condition is grave. Once you return to the palace, you must see the royal physician without delay."
She remembered how she had halted, the reins in her hand trembling.
"Grave? What do you mean?" she had asked, the words sharp with dread.
The man had bowed so deeply his forehead nearly brushed the earth, unable to lift his gaze to hers.
"I cannot give a precise diagnosis, Your Majesty… but it is grave. If the illness has worsened more than I fear… it may imperil your very life."
At those words, a silence had spread within her chest, hollow and vast, like a temple emptied of its bell. Not grief, not dread—only the numb void of a truth too heavy to embrace.
'If I die suddenly… to whom must I entrust this kingdom?'
The sigh that escaped her lips in the bath was laden with that same heaviness, enough to splinter her breath. Thoughts of her own frailty dissolved, eclipsed by the burden of her nation.
Then came the image of her brother, veiled by years and distance. Before their father's passing, whispers had reached her that he still walked the earth.
'If the worst should come, must I summon him back to the palace?'
But memory pierced her like a blade—his eyes, hard with bitterness, when he had turned away from the life of court. He had cast off its chains with loathing; to draw him back would be to tear open old wounds. And even if she willed it—where was he now? Somewhere beyond reach, perhaps beyond the edges of the known world.
'He might be anywhere… perhaps even in lands where my voice could never follow.'
She felt as if the loneliness coiled around her, sharp, suffocating, like reeds tightening around a sinking boat.
Then, with a suddenness like the strike of dawn, her heart stirred.
'No… I am not alone. My Lord is with me.'
The words anchored her, firm as stone, and for a moment the vast emptiness receded. Yet as her eyes closed, another vision rose unbidden through the water's steam—
A face.
Unyielding as iron, yet shadowed with longing.
Jade.
Just the sound of his name sent a tremor through her chest. Slowly, Queen Genie opened her eyes again. Above, the crescent moon lay cradled in the heavens, a silver blade amid the shimmer of a thousand stars.
'How many nights have we lifted our eyes to this same sky together?' she thought, her breath unsteady. 'And yet, why does he seem to drift farther from me with every passing day?'