The night was unusually cold. Even the candles in the hallway flickered as if afraid to burn too brightly. Seo Rin's footsteps echoed faintly against the marble floors as she made her way toward the Duke's study, the folded letter clutched tightly in her trembling hand.
The letter—found behind the old portrait in the library—was short, sealed with a faded royal crest. But its contents burned through her like wildfire. The truth was no longer a rumor; it was a wound reopened.
Her father's exile. Her family's shame.
It hadn't been a mistake.
It had been a sacrifice.
And the one who had chosen that sacrifice... was Duke Min Jae himself.
Her throat ached as she stopped before the grand oak doors of his study. Through the crack beneath, she could see the dim golden light spilling out—a lonely glow against the midnight dark. For a brief moment, her courage faltered.
But then she remembered her father's face—the night they dragged him away, the fear in his eyes, the silence that followed.
Her fingers tightened around the letter.
She knocked once.
"Enter," came his voice, calm as ever.
She pushed open the door.
Min Jae was at his desk, dressed in a dark suit, a few loose strands of hair falling over his forehead. His gaze lifted, and for a moment, surprise flickered across his face when he saw her. Then it vanished behind that usual composure.
"Lady Seo Rin," he said evenly. "It's late. You should rest."
"I couldn't," she replied, stepping in. "Not after reading this."
She placed the letter before him. The seal caught the light. His eyes darkened instantly.
"Where did you find it?"
"Behind the portrait in the library," she said. "Was it meant to stay hidden forever?"
He leaned back slowly, his jaw tightening. "You shouldn't have touched that."
"Shouldn't have touched it?" Her voice rose, trembling with anger. "After years of living with the shame you created? After watching my family fall apart while you stayed silent?"
"Seo Rin—"
"No!" She slammed her hands against the desk, her tears catching the candlelight. "You let me believe my father was a traitor! You let the world mock his name—mock mine—and you knew the truth all along!"
The composure in his expression cracked. He stood, his chair scraping back sharply. "You don't understand—"
"Then make me understand!" she shouted. "Because right now, all I see is a man who ruined my life in the name of some twisted loyalty!"
He took a deep breath, trying to steady his tone, but his voice broke slightly. "It wasn't loyalty, Seo Rin. It was survival."
Her eyes widened.
"The King gave me two choices," he said quietly. "Confess to a crime I didn't commit—or let another family bear the blame. And your father... he volunteered."
She froze. "What?"
"He begged me," Min Jae continued, his voice raw. "He said his name could be rebuilt, but the kingdom needed me alive. He made me promise to protect you in return."
The room went still. Even the wind seemed to stop.
Seo Rin's lips trembled. "You're lying."
"I wish I was," he whispered. "But every word in that letter proves it."
She looked down at the parchment on the desk. Her tears blurred the ink, smearing the last traces of her father's handwriting.
"You should have told me," she said, her voice breaking. "You should have let me mourn him with the truth."
"I couldn't," Min Jae said softly, stepping closer. "The moment I spoke, his sacrifice would have meant nothing. You would have been hunted too."
Seo Rin backed away, shaking her head. "All these years... you let me hate you. You watched me suffer."
"I thought it was better than seeing you destroyed," he said, his voice rough with pain.
Something in her broke. Her anger, her sorrow—it all collided into a sharp ache in her chest.
"Do you know," she whispered, "how many nights I cursed your name? How many times I wished you gone from this world?"
He closed his eyes. "I do. And I accepted every curse, because I deserved them."
Her tears fell freely now. "Then why—why return? Why bring all this back?"
"Because I couldn't bear it anymore," he said, finally looking up. "Because every time I saw your eyes, I saw the ghost of what I destroyed."
Silence. Only the faint crackle of the fire remained between them.
Then Seo Rin did something that even surprised herself—she stepped forward, closing the distance between them.
"Tell me the truth," she said softly, her voice trembling. "Was it only guilt that made you come back... or was it something else?"
He hesitated, every word caught behind restraint. Then, in a low, broken whisper, he said,
"It was you."
Her breath hitched.
"You were the reason I came back," he continued. "Not the ghosts, not the debts. You."
The room felt smaller now, the air heavy with everything unsaid. Seo Rin's heart raced painfully.
"Then why do you still look at me as if you're afraid?" she asked.
"Because," he said, his voice barely a whisper, "I've already hurt you once. I don't deserve another chance."
She reached out, her fingers brushing the cuff of his sleeve. "Maybe this time, you let me decide that."
Their eyes met—years of distance collapsing into a single heartbeat.
Min Jae's hand slowly rose, his fingertips grazing her cheek, wiping away a tear. The touch was hesitant, reverent.
"Seo Rin," he murmured, his tone shaking, "I don't know how to ask for forgiveness."
"Then don't," she whispered. "Just... don't leave again."
For a moment, they stood there—two broken souls, bound by the past but reaching for the same fragile hope.
And when the candlelight dimmed, he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. No promises. No words. Just the sound of two hearts finding peace in the same silence.
Outside, the rose moon rose once more, its crimson glow spilling across the manor like a quiet blessing.
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End of Chapter 10