The palace gates were taller than any building Kwang-ho had ever seen. Golden tiles shone under the morning sun, and red banners fluttered in the wind. Servants hurried past, carrying baskets of flowers, trays of tea, and scrolls tied with silk ribbons.
Kwang-ho adjusted the silk robes over his shoulders. He was no longer himself—he was now Ha-eun, the courtesan who would enter the palace and seek revenge. Every step was carefully measured. Every bow, every tilt of the head, had to be perfect. One slip, and everything would be lost.
A servant opened the gate and looked him over. "Welcome, courtesan Ha-eun," she said, her eyes lingering curiously on his delicate features. Kwang-ho forced a polite smile and curtsied, careful to hide the tension in his muscles.
He walked down the marble hallway, his heart beating faster with every step. The palace was full of whispers and sideways glances. Every courtesan, noble, and servant seemed to study him, measuring his worth.
At the grand hall, the 2nd prince, Ji-ho, leaned lazily against a pillar. He had messy black hair and a bright smile that could light up a room. "Well, well," he said, eyes twinkling as he saw Ha-eun. "Who is this little flower trying to bloom in my palace?"
Kwang-ho froze for a moment, caught off guard. This prince was dangerous—not in strength, but in presence. His playful eyes seemed to see through every disguise. Ha-eun lowered his gaze politely.
"I am Ha-eun, sent to entertain the court," he said softly. His voice sounded lighter than usual, practiced to perfection.
Ji-ho laughed, a sound that echoed in the hall. "Entertain, you say? Let's see if your art is as beautiful as your face."
Before Kwang-ho could answer, a hush fell over the room. At the other end of the hall, standing tall and silent, was the crown prince, Seong-jun. His gaze was sharp, precise, and calm. He looked at Ha-eun as if he could see every thought in his mind. The air between them seemed to hum with tension.
Ha-eun swallowed, keeping his posture straight. The crown prince's aura was different from Ji-ho's playful energy. It was commanding, like a mountain no one dared climb, yet impossible to ignore.
Ji-ho stepped closer, grinning. "Do you always look so serious, little flower? Or is it just when royalty watches?"
Ha-eun's cheeks warmed slightly, though no one could tell under his calm expression. "I… I aim to please," he replied, bowing deeper.
Seong-jun's lips curved ever so slightly. A shadow of curiosity crossed his face. He turned away briefly, then studied Ha-eun again, as if memorizing every detail.
The hall erupted in applause as other courtesans began their performances. Ha-eun stayed poised, moving with grace, every step measured, every gesture perfect. But his eyes kept flicking to the two princes, one playful, one commanding and he felt a spark he had not expected.
This was only the first day. The palace was a dangerous game, and Ha-eun knew he had to play it carefully. But for the first time in a long time, he felt… alive.
The grand hall was filled with the soft murmur of nobles, courtesans, and servants. Silk curtains hung from the windows, letting in golden sunlight that danced across the marble floor. Kwang-ho, as Ha-eun, adjusted the folds of his robe one last time. His fingers brushed against the delicate embroidery, steadying his racing heart.
"Remember," he whispered to himself. Every step, every note, every gesture counts. He was here to charm, to gather information, and to inch closer to revenge. Yet, beneath the mask, he felt the tiniest flicker of excitement. Perhaps from the thrill of performing, or perhaps from the princes who were watching him.
Ji-ho leaned casually against a carved wooden pillar, his gaze fixed on Ha-eun. "You look… nervous," he said teasingly, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I hope your art is better than your bowing."
Ha-eun's lips twitched slightly at the comment. "I assure you, Your highness, you will not be disappointed," he replied bowing, his voice soft, measured, and perfectly feminine.
Seong-jun, the crown prince, remained at the far end of the hall, standing tall and unmoving. His eyes, dark and calculating, followed Ha-eun's every motion. There was no smirk on his face, no playful teasing. Instead, a faint intrigue lingered in his gaze, making Ha-eun feel exposed beneath his composed exterior.
The music began, a delicate melody from the guqin, weaving through the hall like a gentle breeze. Ha-eun stepped forward gracefully, his hands moving in precise, fluid gestures. Each note of the instrument echoed through the marble halls, carrying both elegance and subtle strength. He danced lightly, flowing from one movement to the next, keeping his eyes low but aware of every observer.
Ji-ho clapped softly, leaning forward. "Hmm… I like your confidence. But don't think you can impress everyone with just looks and poise."
Ha-eun shot him a small, polite smile. "Confidence is necessary to survive in a palace, your highness."
Ji-ho laughed quietly, clearly amused by the quick-witted reply. He had expected a timid courtesan, but Ha-eun was clever, sharp, and… intriguing.
Meanwhile, Seong-jun's expression remained calm, almost unreadable, but Ha-eun caught the subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth, a microreaction betraying interest. It sent a shiver down his spine, and he reminded himself to focus. Eyes on the mission. Do not falter.
As the performance continued, nobles whispered compliments and admiration. Ha-eun moved effortlessly, responding to the energy of the room while secretly observing everyone around him. Every detail could be useful for his plan, who spoke to whom, who laughed at whose joke, who held influence over the others.
At the end of the performance, applause echoed through the hall. Ji-ho clapped loudly, clearly the most enthusiastic among the princes. "Well done, little flower," he said, stepping closer. "Perhaps I underestimated you."
Seong-jun finally spoke, his voice calm but firm, carrying across the hall. "Your skill is… remarkable." The words were few, but there was weight behind them, and Ha-eun felt a rush of something unfamiliar, pride, yes, but also the subtle thrill of attraction.
Ha-eun bowed deeply to both princes, keeping his composure while feeling a flutter in his chest. This is only the beginning, he reminded himself. The palace is a stage, and I must play my part perfectly. But these princes… they are unpredictable.
As he slipped away from the grand hall into the palace gardens, he planned his revenge, Kwang-ho wondered if surviving the palace might be more complicated than he imagined not because of danger, but because of desire.
"You sneaky little thing," a voice called from behind. Ha-eun froze and turned. Ji-ho was leaning casually against a cherry blossom tree, one eyebrow raised, his usual mischievous grin in place. "Running away from duty already?"
The palace garden was quiet, a hidden sanctuary filled with blooming flowers and winding stone paths. The sound of water trickling from a small fountain filled the air, mixing with the soft rustle of leaves making it so relaxing.
Ha-eun forced a polite bow. "I… just wished for a moment of quiet, Prince Ji-ho." His voice was calm, but inside his heart was racing. Being alone with the playful prince could be dangerous for his disguise and yet…
Ji-ho laughed softly, taking a few steps closer. "Oh it's Prince Ji-ho, now is it... Quiet, you say? In a palace like this? You have no idea what you're getting into." His eyes sparkled with amusement. "Tell me, Ha-eun, is this your first time in the garden alone? Or are you secretly plotting something?"
Ha-eun's lips twitched into a small, polite smile. "I assure you, Prince Ji-ho, my intentions are honorable. I merely… appreciate beauty." He gestured lightly to the flowers surrounding them, though his mind was focused on every subtle movement of the prince.
Ji-ho stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Honorable, hm? Then why does it feel like you're hiding something?" He leaned in slightly, his playful gaze scanning Ha-eun's face. "A tiny slip, a glance, a gesture… you're clever, little flower, but clever doesn't hide everything."
Ha-eun felt a flush rise to his cheeks but kept his composure. "I am merely cautious, Prince Ji-ho. The palace is… full of watchful eyes."
Ji-ho chuckled, brushing a stray lock of hair from Ha-eun's face with a teasing touch. "Ah, that's what I like about you. Sharp, cautious… but still intriguing. Tell me, will I ever get to see the real Ha-eun behind all this grace?"
Ha-eun's heart skipped a beat. He wanted to answer honestly, to let Ji-ho see the truth, but the plan for revenge came first. "Perhaps… one day," he said softly, bowing slightly to keep distance.
Unseen in the shadows, Seong-jun watched from the veranda above. His dark eyes followed every movement, every glance between Ha-eun and Ji-ho. He noted the playful banter, the subtle blush, the almost imperceptible tension in Ha-eun's posture.
A stir of something new, desire, curiosity rose in him. This courtesan was different from all the others: clever, poised, and clearly hiding a truth he had yet to discover. Seong-jun clenched his fist slightly, resisting the pull he felt toward Ha-eun. I am a crown prince, he reminded himself. This is forbidden. Yet…
Down in the garden, Ji-ho leaned in once more, whispering with a grin. "I swear, Ha-eun, one day I'll discover all your secrets. And when I do…" He let the words hang, teasing and dangerous.
Ha-eun's pulse quickened, and for a brief moment, he forgot the palace, the revenge, and even his disguise. The playful 2nd prince, the quiet crown prince… the palace was no longer just a stage for his plan. It had become a place of dangerous desire.
And Ha-eun had just stepped right into it.
---
The palace corridors smelled of polished wood and incense. Courtesans hurried past, their silk robes rustling like whispers. Ha-eun walked with measured steps, bowing politely to anyone who glanced his way. Despite the formal atmosphere, his eyes were sharp, taking in every detail, the servants' glances, the subtle nods of recognition, the tiny shifts in power among the nobles.
From a shadowed balcony above, Ye-seul, the favored concubine, watched silently. Her black hair gleamed in the torchlight, and her gold-embroidered robe shimmered with every subtle movement. She did not move, speak, or reveal herself yet every motion of Ha-eun's was noted. Her attendants whispered quietly beside her, and she gave a small, cold nod.
Interesting, Ye-seul thought. A new courtesan… clever, poised, and clearly gaining attention. I must see who this one is. I will not allow anyone to rise so easily in my palace.
Unaware of her observation, Ha-eun moved to the outer palace garden, a space where courtesans were allowed to practice during quiet hours. The garden was lit by lanterns, casting soft light on the stone paths and cherry blossom trees. He began to practice a delicate dance, each movement precise, flowing, and full of grace.
From the shadowed veranda above, Seong-jun, the crown prince, observed discreetly. Alone, distant, yet close enough to watch Ha-eun's every movement. The quiet solitude allowed him to study the courtesan without drawing attention.
Suddenly, a rustle from behind a tree caught Ha-eun's attention. "Who's there?" he whispered, glancing toward the sound.
Ji-ho stepped into the lantern light, leaning casually against a tree. "You practice even at night? Bold, little flower," he said, smirking. "Or perhaps you think no one will watch you here."
Ha-eun stiffened for a fraction of a second, but his expression remained calm. "The garden is open to courtesans. I am merely… taking advantage of a quiet moment," he said politely.
Ji-ho chuckled, stepping closer. "Quiet? Perhaps… but not private." His gaze flicked around before settling back on Ha-eun. "I like that. Careful, clever, and unaware that someone is watching. You are entertaining even when you think no one sees."
Ha-eun felt a shiver of unease but also a strange thrill. "I… thank you, Prince Ji-ho. Your observation is… appreciated."
Above them, Seong-jun's dark eyes followed every word, every movement. The playful interaction with Ji-ho did not escape him. His jaw tightened slightly, the quiet pull of curiosity and desire rising within him. Clever, poised, and careful… yet exposed. How fascinating.
Ji-ho reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Ha-eun's face with a teasing touch. "You really do hide something, don't you? I'll find it one day."
Ha-eun's pulse quickened, but he kept his mask in place. "I am not so easily discovered," he said softly, bowing slightly to maintain distance.
Meanwhile, Ye-seul retreated to the shadows. Not giving Ha-eun a second thought.
The night ended with Ha-eun returning to his chambers, thoughts spinning. He realized that surviving the palace would require more than cleverness.
The palace morning was alive with chatter, the scent of incense, and the soft clatter of servants preparing for the day. Ha-eun moved gracefully through the corridors, his silk robes brushing lightly against the polished floor. Every step was careful, every smile measured yet the act of pretending was growing heavier with each passing day.
He had been practicing his role diligently, but even the most careful masks sometimes slipped.
In the inner courtyard, Ji-ho was practicing archery, his bow drawn with perfect posture. Ha-eun had been sent to entertain the court with a song, but the music required some quiet warm-up in the garden before the nobles arrived. He lowered himself onto a stone bench, letting the sunlight illuminate the delicate folds of his robe. As he strummed the guqin, his fingers moved with subtle strength, precise and controlled, more power than a typical courtesan would display.
A soft breeze lifted the ends of his hair, and a bead of sweat traced down his temple.
Ji-ho, lounging against a nearby tree, had been watching quietly. He smirked, eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Hm… that's not exactly how a courtesan would play," he murmured. "Clever… or bold? Maybe both."
Ha-eun froze for a heartbeat, realizing that his strength had betrayed him. Quickly, he adjusted his hands, letting them fall delicately over the strings, forcing a softer, more feminine tone. "I… am simply practicing diligently, Prince Ji-ho," he said, bowing slightly, though his pulse raced.
Ji-ho chuckled, stepping closer, his shadow falling over Ha-eun. "Diligent? Or clever? I think clever is more accurate." His gaze roamed over Ha-eun's posture, his gestures, even the tension in his shoulders.
Ha-eun's cheeks warmed slightly. He wanted to protest, to claim innocence, but words could betray him. Instead, he bowed lower and smiled.
The wind shifted, carrying petals from the cherry blossoms across the courtyard. One brushed Ha-eun's cheek. He reached up reflexively, brushing it away, another small, natural gesture, another secret clue. Ji-ho's eyes narrowed playfully.
Ha-eun's warm-up ended, and he carried the guqin to the central hall for the formal performance. He played for the nobles with grace, every movement smooth and precise. Yet a few small gestures betrayed him: a confident stance, fingers gripping the instrument more firmly than proper, and a voice slightly too deep during low notes.
Ji-ho noticed every detail, leaning slightly forward from his position in the corner. "Ah… so you're not just a delicate little flower after all," he whispered to himself, a grin spreading across his face.
Even as Ha-eun bowed to the court and retreated, Ji-ho's teasing gaze lingered. "I will uncover every secret," he muttered, mostly to himself, amusement dancing in his eyes.
Seong-jun, standing farther away, watched quietly. Each performance was a puzzle: the careful composure, the tiny slips, the subtle strength. His jaw tightened as he realized he was drawn not just to the skill, but to the person beneath the mask.
Later, in the empty hallway leading to Ha-eun's chambers, he paused and changed course towards the gardens, breathing softly. The moon hung low over the palace, bathing the gardens in soft silver light. Lanterns swayed gently in the evening breeze, casting dancing shadows on the stone paths and flowering trees.
Ha-eun had slipped away from the grand hall after dinner, claiming he needed to "practice music in the quiet." In reality, he craved a moment of peace but in the palace, peace was always fleeting.
A rustle of leaves made him pause. "Who's there?" he whispered, carefully moving toward the sound, hand lightly brushing the guqin case strapped across his back.
"Relax, little flower," a voice called, smooth and teasing. Ji-ho stepped from behind a cherry blossom tree, arms crossed and a grin on his face. "Did you really think you could practice here without me noticing?"
Ha-eun stiffened for a heartbeat but quickly bowed slightly, keeping his tone calm. "Prince Ji-ho… I meant no intrusion. This space is permitted for courtesans to practice"
Ji-ho stepped closer, letting the lantern light catch his mischievous eyes. "Ah… you're far too intriguing to be left alone." He leaned against a tree, his posture relaxed, yet charged with energy. "Tell me, Ha-eun… do you ever slip? Reveal a little truth without knowing?"
Ha-eun's cheeks warmed slightly, but he lifted his chin with calm composure.
Ji-ho chuckled, circling him slowly. "Hah! Life is more fun when you take risks." His gaze flicked to Ha-eun's hands, then back up. "Like now… hiding in the garden, playing music alone, but someone perhaps even more than one someone is watching. Risky, isn't it?"
Ha-eun swallowed, feeling both flustered and alive. "The palace is full of eyes. I simply… adapt."
"Adapt?" Ji-ho raised an eyebrow. "Ah, clever little flower. Always so composed… yet every so often, I see a slip." He smirked, stepping closer so that Ha-eun could feel the warmth radiating from him. "A glance that's too sharp, a movement too strong… tiny betrayals of your true self. Fascinating."
Ha-eun's pulse quickened, but he forced himself to maintain poise. Focus. Do not falter.
From a shadowed veranda above, Seong-jun always finds himself watching them silently. The playful exchange, the subtle blush, the almost imperceptible gestures, every detail enthralled him. He clenched his fist lightly, torn between desire and propriety. Clever, poised… yet so vulnerable. How dangerous to want someone I cannot have.
Ji-ho leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Do you realize… even in the quiet of night, your presence draws attention?" His lips twitched into a teasing grin. "Not from me alone, little flower. Someone else is watching."
Ha-eun glanced upward instinctively, seeing the faint silhouette of Seong-jun across the garden.
Ji-ho laughed softly, taking a step back but keeping Ha-eun within reach.
Ha-eun's breath caught, and for a moment, all he could do was nod subtly.
Ji-ho extended a hand in playful challenge. "Come closer. Let's see how clever you really are."
Ha-eun hesitated, then, with a polite bow, moved a step forward. The night air was heavy with cherry blossom petals drifting around them, soft and fragrant. Every movement was a delicate dance of flirtation, caution, and forbidden intimacy.
Above, Seong-jun's gaze darkened slightly, the pull of desire and curiosity intensifying. He remained hidden, watching the interplay between the two, feeling a rare mixture of frustration and fascination.
The night ended with Ha-eun returning quietly to his chambers, mind spinning. He had survived the encounter without revealing his secret, yet both princes' attention was undeniable.
[Concubine Ye Seul's quarters]
The night was heavy with incense and silence. Concubine Ye-seul sat in her richly adorned chamber, the lanterns casting soft golden light across her flawless face. Her fingers traced the rim of her bronze mirror, but her mind was elsewhere.
Her son entered quietly, dressed in pale robes, his steps hesitant. He had inherited her beauty delicate eyes, porcelain skin but none of her sharpness. He bowed gently.
"Mother, why have you not rested?"
Ye-seul turned, smiling sweetly, as though her heart were not a battlefield. "How can I rest, my child, when the palace is filled with wolves?"
The boy tilted his head. "Wolves?"
"Yes," she whispered, drawing him closer. "Do you think this palace is peaceful? Every smile you see hides a dagger. Even the Queen, with all her gentle words, do you think she truly sees you as her son?"
The boy's face softened with confusion. "But… the Queen often asks after me. She sends me medicine when I am ill. She even scolded the steward once for treating me unfairly."
Ye-seul's lips tightened almost imperceptibly. "Kindness is but a mask, my son. The Queen protects her own sons the Crown Prince, and Prince Ji-ho. You are not of her womb. If her sons must shine brighter, she will not hesitate to let you be forgotten."
The boy frowned, shaking his head. "That is not true. Ji-ho brings me sweets when he sneaks out of the kitchens. And His Highness the Crown Prince…" He hesitated, his voice lowering. "He shields me when the older nobles make cruel jokes. He never lets me be humiliated."
Ye-seul's fingers tightened around her silk sleeve, the embroidery biting into her skin. She forced a smile. "And yet, child, kindness can become chains. A man who saves you once may later push you aside to keep his own power. Have you never wondered why the Emperor dotes so much on them? Why he praises their talents, yet seldom calls for you?"
The boy's eyes darkened, but instead of turning bitter, he lifted his chin stubbornly. "Then I will work harder. I will grow strong, so that Father may see me with his own eyes. But I will not… I will not see my brothers as enemies. I refuse."
The words landed like daggers. Ye-seul's smile froze. Slowly, she lowered her hand, stroking his cheek with deceptive tenderness.
"My foolish son. Too pure for this world." Her voice trembled between pride and disdain. "But purity is dangerous here. It will get you killed."
3rd Prince Min-Jae gripped her hand with his small fingers. "Then let me take that risk. I would rather be killed than turn against my brothers."
A long silence fell. The flickering lantern light trembled against the lacquered screens. Ye-seul finally withdrew her hand, hiding the storm in her heart.
"Go and rest," she murmured, her voice laced with false calm. "You speak like a child, but one day you will understand."
When her son bowed and left, the chamber felt colder. Ye-seul reached for a cup of wine, staring into its crimson depths. The sweetness on her lips did nothing to drown the bitterness in her chest.
The Queen has ensnared him with her kindness. Even my own son will not turn his eyes from her cubs… How infuriating.
Her nails tapped the rim of the cup, slow and deliberate. So be it. If the cubs are well-guarded, then I must wound the lioness herself. The Queen's pride is her weakness. The more she protects, the more I will take.
Beyond her chamber walls, the palace was silent. Yet elsewhere, Crown Prince Seong-jun sat in his study, his brush still against the scroll. The courtesan's image lingered in his mind unbidden, eyes like a secret that refused to be forgotten.
He immediately stepped out for evening air. The night had settled over the palace, leaving the courtyards silent but for the occasional rustle of silk robes.
Ha-eun also lingered around the palace walls, recalling the brief, teasing moments with Prince Ji-ho earlier. The boy's laughter still rang softly in his mind, a warm contrast to the ever-watchful eyes of the palace.
He adjusted his sleeve, smoothing the faint crease, and allowed himself a small, quiet smile. For all the politics and plotting around him, the garden had felt like a fleeting moment of freedom.
That freedom, however, was short-lived.
A presence stepped into the courtyard, deliberate, heavy, commanding. Ha-eun's heart did not race, but his instincts sharpened immediately. Crown Prince Seong-jun stood beneath a lantern, his midnight blue robes embroidered with dragons, the faint shimmer of gold thread catching the light. Even the moonlight seemed to bend around him, as though yielding to his authority.
He did not speak. He simply observed, silent and precise, like a general surveying a battlefield. Ha-eun felt the weight of the gaze pressing against him, calm but unyielding, controlled yet undeniable.
Finally, Seong-jun spoke, his voice low, smooth, and deliberate the kind of voice that made everyone obey without a second thought. "You linger long after the others have gone, courtesan."
Ha-eun bowed slightly, keeping his tone even. "Your Highness flatters me. I am nothing more than a shadow passing through the night."
Seong-jun's eyes narrowed just slightly, studying him with clinical precision. "A shadow, perhaps… but shadows reveal where light cannot. You move differently than the others. Careful. Calculated."
Ha-eun held his gaze, hiding the quickening of his pulse. "Your Highness overestimates me. I have learned only what is necessary to survive here."
The Crown Prince took a step closer, the kind of step that made space shrink and breath catch without a word. "Survival," he murmured, "is an art most people fail to master. Yet you…" His lips curved faintly, a subtle, almost imperceptible smirk. "…I am intrigued."
Ha-eun felt the tiniest ripple of danger under the surface, yet he forced his smile to remain soft. "Your Highness finds amusement in simple things. Perhaps it is the courtesan's duty to entertain."
Seong-jun's gaze sharpened, as if reading through silk and poise straight to the truth beneath. "Entertainment is easy. Commanding attention… that is a skill." His hand hovered near Ha-eun's sleeve, close enough to feel the air shift, but he did not touch. "And you have it. That is why you are here. That is why I am speaking to you."
Ha-eun inclined his head, voice quiet and deliberate. "Then I shall take care to meet Your Highness's expectations."
For the first time, Seong-jun's aura faltered barely, almost invisible, a crack in the otherwise impenetrable calm. Ha-eun noticed, and his lips curved into the faintest, knowing smile. The Crown Prince, the man whose presence bent others like steel beams under pressure, had paused for him.
The silence stretched, sharp and electric, before Seong-jun finally withdrew his hand and stepped back, voice returning to its calm authority. "Be careful, Courtesan. A man who hides too well… tempts danger."
Ha-eun bowed once more, allowing the faintest smirk to flicker behind his lowered lashes. "Then I shall take care not to tempt Your Highness further."
But as he turned to leave, Seong-jun's voice, controlled and firm, followed him:
"You already have."
The words hung in the night air, and Ha-eun could not help but feel the first tremor of something he had long anticipated.
The courtyard was nearly silent now, only the faint rustle of leaves in the night breeze. Lanterns swayed gently, casting pools of golden light across the stone path.
Ha-eun stood still, his hands folded neatly in his sleeves, watching Seong-jun's back as the Crown Prince lingered under the lantern. Neither spoke. Words felt unnecessary.
Seong-jun tilted his head slightly, eyes fixed on Ha-eun as if weighing every motion, every breath. The calm authority made the night itself seem to pause. Every step Ha-eun had taken, every graceful tilt of his head, had been observed and cataloged by a man who left nothing to chance.
"You understand, don't you?" Seong-jun finally said, voice low, deliberate, almost a whisper meant only for him.
Ha-eun's eyes met his, steady and unreadable. "I understand, Your Highness. And yet… ."
A flicker of something crossed Seong-jun's face something unspoken, fleeting. Respect? Curiosity? A warning? Ha-eun could not tell. And that made it deliciously dangerous.
"Good," Seong-jun murmured, finally stepping back, though the intensity of his gaze did not waver. "Then we will see...."
Ha-eun bowed slightly, turning to leave, but his back stiffened at the thought of his words.
"You already have."
The words lingered, vibrating in the quiet courtyard, and Ha-eun felt a thrill.