"How long have you known?"
The words slipped from her lips barely louder than breath, more a confession than a question. They trembled as they fell into the quiet between them, swallowed almost immediately by the wind rustling through the trees. Her body remained unnaturally stiff, spine straight, shoulders locked in place as though any movement might shatter the fragile control she still clung to. Inside her mind, questions crashed into one another in a relentless storm, each more terrifying than the last.
Kayden studied her with an expression that made her chest tighten. There was no shock in his eyes. No guilt. No hesitation. He looked… bored. Unaffected. As if the truth she had spent years hiding was nothing more than a mildly interesting detail.
"Longer than you think," he replied lightly, a low chuckle slipping past his lips. It wasn't cruel, but it wasn't kind either. It was dismissive—casual in a way that hurt far more than anger ever could. "You should make your way back now."
The world seemed to tilt.
"And the King?" she asked, her voice wavering despite her effort to steady it. She hated how weak she sounded. Hated that she already knew the answer, yet still needed to hear it spoken aloud—as if confirmation would somehow lessen the blow.
Kayden exhaled slowly, irritation flickering across his features for just a moment before disappearing beneath a veil of exhaustion. He rolled his shoulders, as though the weight of the conversation itself was too heavy to bear.
"It doesn't matter," he said flatly. "Ride back to the palace."
That was all.
No reassurance. No warning. No explanation.
Before she could gather the courage to say anything else, he turned his back on her. Without another glance, he headed toward the forest—the narrow, shadowed path that led most directly back to the palace. His steps were steady but heavy, boots crunching softly against the earth. Only when he had gone several paces ahead did she notice it.
Blood.
Dark red droplets stained the ground behind him, trailing faintly through the dirt and fallen leaves. They weren't large, nor were they hurried, but they were unmistakable.
Yuto stood frozen, her breath trapped in her chest as she stared at his retreating form. The trees slowly swallowed him whole, shadows closing around his figure until there was nothing left but silence—and the quiet evidence of what he left behind.
Tears blurred her vision.
They knew, she realized numbly. They knew I was a girl from the very beginning.
Her fingers curled tightly at her sides, nails biting into her palms as guilt and fear twisted painfully in her chest.
I've failed Mother.
The thought struck her harder than any blade. Every lesson. Every sacrifice. Every warning whispered in the dead of night—it had all been for nothing. And now…
What does the King plan to do with me?
The question echoed endlessly in her mind as she mounted the horse. Her movements were mechanical, driven by instinct rather than thought. When she wrapped her trembling fingers around the reins, the animal shifted beneath her, sensing her unrest.
She took a shaky breath.
I cannot return to that palace.
The realization settled slowly, heavily, until it felt as though it had fused with her bones. The walls she had once believed were her refuge had become a cage. Whatever this "diplomatic arrangement" truly was, it was no longer something she could control.
I have to go into hiding.
Her jaw clenched.
I'm sorry, Mother, she thought, her chest aching. I never wanted it to come to this. But I still value my life. I still want peace.
For a moment, she lingered where she was, torn between the path she had always been expected to follow and the one that terrified her most. Then, with a quiet resolve, she turned the horse away from the road leading back to the palace and pointed it toward the town Kayden had strictly forbidden her to enter.
She didn't look back.
The town greeted her with overwhelming noise and motion. The sharp contrast made her dizzy. Vendors shouted prices from their stalls, their voices overlapping in a chaotic symphony. The air smelled of dust, sweat, roasted meat, and freshly baked bread. Children darted through the crowd, laughter ringing as merchants argued and customers haggled.
No one spared her a second glance.
She dismounted near the edge of the market, leading the horse carefully through the narrow pathways until she reached a stall where several fine steeds were tied. An old man sat behind it, hunched over a worn ledger, muttering as he scribbled numbers onto the page.
"Excuse me," she said, lowering her voice deliberately.
The man looked up, his weathered face breaking into a wide grin that revealed several missing and rotten teeth.
"What can I get for you, young lad?" he asked cheerfully.
Yuto swallowed, forcing herself to remain calm. "I want to sell this horse," she said. "How much can you pay?"
The old man rose slowly, scratching his bald head as he circled the horse, eyes sharp and calculating despite his frail appearance.
"It's a fine horse," he said after a moment. "Rare indeed." His lips curled into a sly smile. "Twenty gold coins."
She knew instantly it was worth far more. The saddle alone could fetch a handsome price. But time was slipping through her fingers like sand, and attention was the last thing she needed.
"Fair enough," she replied.
The man's grin widened. He wasted no time, opening his safe and counting out the coins with quick, practiced fingers. He pressed them into her palm before she could reconsider. The weight of the gold was reassuring—solid proof that she had taken the first step toward freedom.
She pocketed the coins, handed the reins to one of the stall workers, and nodded politely before slipping back into the crowd.
As she walked, her steps slowed.
A woman's shop caught her eye.
Soft fabrics were displayed in the window—flowing dresses in muted hues, delicate embroidery glinting subtly in the light. The sight stirred something deep within her.
Maybe it's time I use my true identity as a disguise, she thought.
Her lips pressed together.
Kaelith won't let me disappear that easily.
She pushed open the door.
Inside, the scent of lavender and clean linen filled the air. The shopkeeper barely glanced at her as she selected a simple but elegant outfit. When she disappeared into the changing room, she felt as though she were shedding more than just clothes.
When she emerged, the mirror reflected someone she barely recognized.
Her hair had been styled neatly, her face softened with careful touches of makeup that highlighted features she had spent years hiding. The clothes fit her naturally, as though they had always belonged to her.
For the first time since leaving the palace, Yuto felt unseen.
And in that invisibility, she felt free.