Seong walked through the darkness, his tears blurring the path ahead. His weary feet carried him forward, guided by a deep-seated exhaustion. He had hoped that if, by some miracle, he encountered Hwan, he would find answers to the questions that had haunted him for countless nights. But there were no answers, only a growing resentment that gnawed at his soul.

  As he approached Wicheong Palace, he noticed a figure standing near the entrance. In the dim light of dawn, he recognized the flowing crimson robes. It was Yeong. She stood motionless, patiently awaiting his return. Ashamed of his tear-streaked face, Seong hastily wiped his eyes and continued towards the entrance.

  Yeong offered no greeting as he approached. Her hair and clothes were damp with dew, evidence of a sleepless night spent outdoors.

  "Were you waiting for me?" Seong asked.

  "I couldn't sleep," she replied flatly. "So I came outside for some air."

  Whether she had been waiting for him or simply seeking respite from the confines of Wicheong Palace, it was clear she had been awake all night. Seong didn't press further. He walked past her, heading towards the inner chambers.

  Yeong followed, maintaining a distance of a few paces. Seong, glancing back at her several times, found her gaze unwavering. He tried to ignore her presence, but it was a futile effort. He entered his room and closed the door, but the soft thud of wood against wood never came. He turned to find Yeong standing behind him, her hand preventing the door from closing.

  "Why are you following me?" he asked.

  Yeong stepped inside, closing the door behind her. Seong, ignoring her, collapsed onto his bed. Yeong followed, settling beside him. He wished she wouldn't ask, but as always, his wishes were in vain.

  "Did you see him?" she asked.

  It wasn't a question, but a confirmation. Seong had been returning later and later each morning, his nightly vigils stretching further into the dawn. It wasn't difficult for her to deduce what he was doing.

  "Yes," he confirmed.

  "And did you get what you wanted, after acting like a child?"

  "No."

  "I told you it was useless."

  Seong's eyes closed tightly at her harsh words. "You were right. It was useless from the beginning..."

  His voice trailed off, and Yeong's gaze swept over him. His limbs were sprawled on the bed, but his hands were clenched into fists. Tears escaped from beneath his closed eyelids.

  "There's no need to hide from me," Yeong said softly, noticing his trembling lips. "You told me you liked that you could be honest with me."

  Seong's lips trembled as he spoke. "We shouldn't have been born. Neither of us."

  Yeong, faced with Seong's sudden despair, offered a clumsy attempt at comfort. "You were born according to Sahngjon's plan."

  "No, it's all Uncle's fault," Seong said. "He shouldn't have brought us into this world. We shouldn't have been born. He shouldn't have trusted me. I... I couldn't do anything then, and I can't do anything now. Wicheong, Ryang, Seon... they're all in danger, and I don't know how to protect them. I don't even know if I can. But Hwan... he'll do whatever it takes. Whatever it takes... How could he just turn away like that? How could he say those cruel things and leave? How..."

  Seong's eyes closed, tears streaming down his face. Yeong, witnessing his grief, could easily imagine the painful exchange between the brothers. Her heart ached for him. Being around Seong always evoked unfamiliar feelings: the warmth she felt when she touched his newborn hair, the unsettling nausea that overcame her when he embraced her, the sharp pain that now pierced her chest. Human emotions were a mystery to her, and she didn't know how to offer comfort.

  "You've been through this before," she said flatly. "Everyone knew what kind of person your brother was. You were the only one who refused to see it."

  "I didn't know him?" Seong echoed.

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  "Or you chose to ignore the truth."

  Seong sat up, his gaze fixed on Yeong. "If you're going to condemn my brother, then why does Sahngjon even bother with us? There must be a reason why he hasn't abandoned Hwan!"

  Yeong's voice remained calm. "Sahngjon only needs tools," she replied. "Even the Celestial Scion is merely a tool to him. You can't understand his purpose with your human morality. You'll understand once the prophecy is fulfilled."

  "That prophecy!" Seong shouted, his eyes blazing. He leaned closer, his face inches from hers.

  Yeong flinched, startled by his sudden outburst. Seong, noticing her fear, looked down at his hands, still gripping her arms. He loosened his hold, his own anger giving way to self-disgust. Yeong rose to her feet.

  "You're not thinking clearly. You need to rest," she said.

  As she turned to leave, Seong reached out, his fingers brushing against her arm. "Don't go. Please."

  Seong, his anger forgotten, looked at her with pleading eyes. He was crumbling before her, his vulnerability laid bare. His gaze, filled with unshed tears, was fragile, as if he might shatter at any moment. Yeong stood frozen, unable to move, unable to comfort him. Is this the reason he clung to his brother, this unbearable pain? She still couldn't understand his attachment, but the ache in her chest mirrored his suffering. She wanted to ease his pain, but she hesitated. Is comforting this fragile Scion a violation of Sahngjon's will?

  Yeong, after a moment's hesitation, raised her right index finger. Seong, his body tense, watched her intently. Her finger gently traced the curve of his cheek, drawing away the moisture that clung to his skin. A single teardrop, suspended in mid-air, shimmered in the dim light. Yeong, with a flick of her wrist, vaporized it.

  "What are you doing?" Seong asked.

  "I don't have much freedom," Yeong replied. "This is the only comfort I can offer."

  With that, Yeong settled back beside Seong. He leaned against her, resting his head on her lap. His tears and the lingering warmth of his body seeped through the thin fabric of her robes. After a while, she looked down to find him asleep, his damp hair falling across his forehead. Gently, she brushed it aside. He stirred, his brow furrowing in his sleep. Yeong, exhausted from her own sleepless night, felt a wave of drowsiness wash over her. She rested her head against his shoulder and drifted off.

  They hadn't been asleep long when a knock on the door startled them awake. Seong and Yeong sat up, their eyes meeting in awkward silence. Yeong rose and opened the door. Myeonghyeon Ryang stood outside. He seemed momentarily surprised to see Yeong, but quickly recovered, bowing respectfully.

  "Guardian Crimson," he greeted.

  "High Councilor," Yeong acknowledged. "I thought you weren't visiting Wicheong Palace for the time being."

  "Urgent matters have arisen," Ryang replied curtly.

  Despite his brief response, Yeong sensed his keen eyes assessing her appearance.

  "He is exhausted. Return later," she instructed.

  "I'll be the judge of that," Ryang countered.

  Yeong met his gaze, a silent battle of wills passing between them. Finally, she stepped aside. "Very well."

  She turned and retreated to her own quarters. Ryang, once again knocking, entered Seong's chamber. He bowed respectfully upon seeing Seong sitting up in bed.

  "Your Luminance," he greeted.

  "Ryang? What brings you here?" Seong asked.

  "You're up late," Ryang remarked.

  Seong was clearly surprised by Ryang's unexpected visit. But Ryang was equally surprised by what he had witnessed moments earlier.

  "Why was the Guardian Crimson leaving your chamber at this hour?" he demanded.

  Seong's face flushed. "It's not what you think," he stammered.

  Ryang didn't press further, but his disapproval was evident. Though Seong was hiding a different secret, Ryang suspected another. Seong wished Ryang would delve deeper, hoping to deflect suspicion from his true concern. But Ryang simply offered a curt warning.

  "Don't get too close to her. We don't know her well enough."

  Seong moved from the bed to the table, and Ryang sat opposite him.

  "Did you just arrive?" Seong asked.

  "Yes," Ryang confirmed.

  "Tell me what brings you here. There must be a reason you risked traveling through the night."

  Ryang paused, his eyes downcast, as if gathering his thoughts. He then looked directly at Seong and recounted in detail what he had seen and heard about the white sphere in the Dahnian camp. Seong listened in tense silence. When Ryang finished his account, he made a request.

  "Guardian, may I see the Sword?"

  "Of course."

  Seong walked to the chest where the sword was kept. Ryang joined him, and Seong opened the lid, revealing the sword within. Unable to touch the sword himself, Seong drew it from its scabbard, the pristine white blade gleaming in the dim light. Ryang's lips parted in awe, then quickly tightened.

  "The sphere's radiance is identical to this sword," he observed. "Even the shifting weight is similar. If my suspicions are correct, they share the same origin."

  "And that origin is...?"

  "Sahngjon."

  Seong's voice was filled with anxiety. "Are you certain?"

  "I wish I weren't," Ryang admitted. "Especially since it's currently in the princess's possession. But I can't deny what I saw. Perhaps the Guardian Crimson has some answers."

  "I'll summon her and the High Emissary now," Seong said.