Confusion tangled her heart.
'Could I, as a queen, cast aside my crown and lay bare my soul so recklessly? Even if I dared, would he receive it? Or would my love be left to wither in silence, hers alone, unseen and unreturned?'
The thought pierced her, sharper than any blade. Never before had she felt such depth of longing. Not in her youthful years abroad, when fleeting acquaintances and passing fancies brushed her heart like autumn leaves in the wind. No—only with him did her heart burn alive, fierce and trembling, as though awakened for the first time.
And yet, the physician's grave warning loomed like a shadow, darkening every hope. Between them rose an invisible wall, tall and merciless.
'If I am fated to leave this world suddenly… then I must not step closer to him. To bind him to me now would be to wound him beyond measure when I am gone.'
A sting welled at the corners of her eyes. She pressed her damp hands to her face, forcing a laugh that trembled like brittle glass.
"Why trouble yourself with shadows not yet cast? Enough, Genie… enough. Do not think so deeply."
But her heart defied her command, restless as the tide against stone. Slowly, she lifted her gaze once more to the endless vault of night. Her whisper rose, frail yet resolute, into the silence of heaven.
"Lord, what must I do? For Hana Kingdom, for Jade… for the brother I cannot find. Please show me the path I cannot see."
That very night, beneath a sky veiled in silver moonlight, Jade made his way toward the King's Hall. The cool breath of early spring brushed against his face, carrying the faint fragrance of plum blossoms that lingered in the courtyards.
Palace maidens passing with lanterns dipped into low bows at his approach, their silhouettes wavering like shadows upon the polished stone.
"I've come to see Her Majesty," he said, his voice measured, though his heart pressed heavier with each step.
Chief Han stepped forward from the shadows of the colonnade and bent respectfully.
"Your Majesty is bathing at this hour."
Jade halted as if struck. For a moment, his composure cracked; his breath caught, his gaze flickered.
"…I see."
He inclined his head, awkward in his stiffness, and turned as if to retreat. But Chief Han's voice followed him, firm yet gentle, carrying a weight he could not ignore.
"Minister Jade, if you wait a little longer, Her Majesty will emerge. Why not remain here?"
The subtle intent in her tone struck him like an arrow loosed with precision. His steps faltered. Slowly, he drew himself upright, masking hesitation with formality.
"I see. I shall wait then."
He took his place at the great entrance, hands clasped behind his back, his figure still as stone yet his heart restless as water beneath wind. A knot of unease tightened within him. To linger outside while the queen bathed felt improper, impertinent even—yet the thought of leaving had not truly formed.
His deputy's words came unbidden, whispering mockery in his ears.
"You've had no time alone with Her Majesty, have you? Always surrounded by ministers and guards. Why not follow her, just this once?"
The memory unsettled him, and yet it carried a truth he could not deny. Especially when his mind conjured the sight he wished to forget: Moonsen at her side, returning with her to the palace gates.
That image had pierced deeper than he dared confess. It lingered still, raw and stinging, like salt in a wound he could not close.
He told himself he had no right to her—no claim beyond duty, no bond beyond loyalty. And yet, the image of another man standing at her side was a torment sharper than steel.
'So this is what it feels like…' His lips tightened bitterly. 'I tried to fight it, to cast it aside. But it clings to me, relentlessly. It will not leave.'
Just then, the chamber doors parted with a hush. His head rose, almost against his will.
She appeared—Queen Genie—her damp hair catching the lantern glow, glistening like strands of midnight silk. She was wrapped in a robe of soft night-cloth, and though her face was free of adornment, her eyes shone like precious stones beneath the moonlight. His chest tightened; his heart struck like a war drum.
'So this is inevitable,' he thought, and a faint smile curved his lips, not of ease but of surrender.
"What brings you here at this hour?" she asked, surprise flickering across her gaze.
He ascended the steps with measured pace, though his breath trembled, his resolve gathering like a storm.
"Your Majesty," he said at last, his voice low, resonant in the stillness.
"What is it?" she asked again, her tone gentle yet cautious.
For a moment, he did not answer. Instead, he let silence linger between them, fragile as glass, stretched taut as a bowstring. His eyes held hers—searching, uncertain, yet unable to retreat.
At last, words fell from him, quiet but unshakable.
"I only wondered if Your Majesty was resting well. The truth is…" His gaze steadied, dark with unspoken weight. "…I came because I wished to see you."
Her breath faltered. In an instant, the world narrowed to the space between them.
'To see me? Her heart wavered, trembling. As the Queen or as…'
She dared not finish the thought, afraid to stumble into folly—afraid that what burned within her might only be the fevered illusion of her own heart, mistaking loyalty for love.
Yet the look in his eyes—steady, tender, unflinching—was not one of mere duty. It reached her in a place no crown, no throne, no nation could touch. Something within her stirred, undeniable, like spring's first thaw beneath the ice.
From the shadows of the hall, the court ladies exchanged glances, faint smiles flickering across their lips. They lowered their eyes, yet their faces glowed with the light of unspoken knowing.
Drawing in a quiet breath, Genie steadied herself. She forced her tone to composure, as though she had not heard his words at all.
"I am resting well," she replied softly. Then, with the practiced grace of a queen, she turned the question upon him. "And you, Commander? Have you taken time to rest?"
He shook his head, without hesitation.
"No," he answered simply. "I came straight to Your Majesty."
Her heart faltered. The restraint in his words, the simplicity, the absence of excuse—these struck deeper than any flourish could.
Something shifted within her then, quiet yet immense, like a stone tumbling into the depths of a lake. For the first time, she allowed herself to wonder.
'Perhaps he feels the same,' Genie thought.
"Have a peaceful night, Your Majesty," Jade said.
"And you too, Jade. Have a peaceful night."
Jade's gaze lingered on Queen Genie for a long, silent moment, unspoken words suspended between them like mist over still water. Her own eyes, caught by his, quickly dropped to the empty air before her, a blush creeping beneath her silk robes.
Seeing her averted gaze, Jade's lips curved into the faintest of smiles, quiet, almost reluctant, and he turned away. His steps were calm, deliberate, echoing softly against the polished stone of the royal hall as he descended the stairs.
Genie watched him go, caught in a daze, as if the world itself had stilled around him. The pale moonlight painted his back in silver, tracing the outline of his broad shoulders, his every movement serene and measured.
"Your Majesty?"
Lady Park's gentle voice broke the spell, and Genie snapped her eyes from Jade, blinking against the sudden clarity.
With a knowing smile, Lady Park's gaze met hers.
"I hope Your Majesty is happy."
"Pardon?" Genie's voice faltered, her mind still half-lost in the image of Jade.
Lady Park glanced toward Chief Han and the other ladies-in-waiting. Faint smiles danced across their faces, small but unmistakable.
"We all wish for Your Majesty's happiness," she said.
It was only then that Genie understood the full weight of Lady Park's words. Heat rose to her cheeks, a fluttering warmth like silk brushing against skin.
"I should head to my chambers now. Thank you all for your hard work today," she said, bowing lightly, her voice betraying the slightest tremor of embarrassment.
She hurried through the door opened by the attending lady-in-waiting, heart still quickened.
'Jade,' she thought, a soft smile touching her lips. 'He is that kind of person. Someone who brings happiness merely by existing.'
The moonlight lingered on the empty corridor behind him, as if blessing the space he had just passed through, and for a brief, quiet moment, the palace felt suffused with something both fragile and enduring.
Hope.
At that moment, Jade's steps carried him away from the royal hall, toward the quietude of the military quarters. Each footfall was measured, calm, betraying nothing of the storm beneath his composed exterior.
A small, almost imperceptible smile brushed his lips. Though words with Queen Genie had been few, though he had spoken only what was proper, the mere act of standing in her presence had stirred something tender and unshakable within him.
He could not speak freely to her—not yet. Perhaps he never would. He did not even know if he possessed the right. And so, he wondered, with a pang both bitter and sweet, how much of his heart could ever find expression.
Yet even in restraint, a quiet joy took root.
'Perhaps…' he thought, a shadow of longing flickering in his chest. 'Perhaps I might never be able to show my heart to Her Majesty.'
And yet another thought followed, soft and persistent.
'But if I can remain by her side… if I can simply be near her, perhaps that is enough.'