Enna's hands clutched the fabric of her sleeves. She lowered her gaze and shook her head slightly.
"It's… it's alright. I can go alone…"
Jade's voice cut in—gentle, but unmistakably final.
"No. Go with Danjin."
There was something about the way he said it—quiet, commanding, protective. It left no room for protest.
Danjin gave a reassuring nod.
"Yes, you've clearly had a fright. Please—allow me to take you. Where exactly are you headed?"
Enna responded with a slight bow, her voice tinged with apology. "Then… if it's not too much trouble, I need to head to the royal kitchen."
"The royal kitchen?" Danjin repeated, blinking in surprise.
"Yes," she said quietly.
His brow lifted.
"Then… you're the new palace cook who just entered the palace today?"
Enna offered a sheepish smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Yes, that's me."
Only then did Vice Commander Danjin seem to fully place her. His eyes widened with sudden recognition.
"Ah—so you're the one from back then…!"
Enna, who had recognized him the moment she saw him, smiled awkwardly and nodded.
"Yes… we met at the Westen village."
The astonished Vice Commander turned eagerly toward Jade.
"Minister! This is the lady from—"
Jade cut him off with a calm nod, his voice even.
"Yes. She's the one who helped us back then."
For some reason, the calmness in his tone sent an unexpected pang of disappointment through Enna's chest. She didn't understand why—perhaps she had expected a warmer acknowledgment? Still, she quickly bowed low to the man who had once pulled her back from the brink of death.
"Thank you… for saving me," she said, her voice sincere.
"It was nothing," Jade replied, curt but not unkind.
When she lifted her head, her gaze met his. His expression was unreadable, like a still lake hiding unknown depths.
Danjin, eager to dispel the awkward silence, straightened briskly.
"I'll escort the lady to the royal kitchen," he declared.
"Good. I have something to attend to in the other direction, so I'll go ahead," Jade said, his tone steady and unreadable.
"Understood, Minister." Danjin gave a crisp nod before turning to Enna with a polite gesture. "Shall we?"
Enna hesitated, glancing once more at Jade. There was a fleeting urge to say something—anything—but no words came.
Instead, she bowed respectfully.
"Thank you… again."
Without looking back, Jade adjusted the sword at his hip and strode off toward the opposite path, his figure soon swallowed by the shadows of the trees.
A strange sense of regret lingered in Enna's chest as she fell in step behind the Vice Commander. Her hands clasped tightly in front of her apron as she walked the narrow trail back toward the palace.
Her heart still thudded from the memory of what had just happened.
'If Minister Jade hadn't come when he did… I might really have died…'
The images flashed unbidden—two attackers, their blades glinting; Jade cutting through them with effortless precision. She remembered the swing of his sword, the sharp gleam in his eyes, the calmness in his movements that had left no room for hesitation.
Her steps faltered slightly.
'His swordsmanship… It was extraordinary. Almost… beautiful.'
But then her thoughts shifted.
'Where is he going now?' she wondered, glancing over her shoulder even though he was long gone.
She shook her head as if to clear it.
'He must have something important to do…'
Drawing in a slow breath, Enna focused on the present, willing her racing heart to calm as she followed the Vice Commander through the sprawling palace grounds, the wind carrying with it the faint scent of pine and distant incense.
On the wide, snow-covered plain, Jade walked with measured steps, his boots crunching softly against the icy ground. The cold wind stung his face, but his mind was elsewhere.
'I told them they were just bandits…'
Even as he repeated it in his head, the explanation felt hollow. Something gnawed at him, a weight he couldn't shrug off.
'Could one of them be the same man… the one who tried to kill me before? The one who escaped after being struck by Her Majesty's arrow on the mountain…?'
The memory was vivid: the arrow flying past his shoulder, the figure collapsing before scrambling away into the fog. The distance had been too great, the assassin's face concealed by a mask.
He tried to recall the men from earlier that day—two figures with black cloths over their faces, revealing only their eyes. Sharp, alert eyes. Yet when he strained to picture them clearly, his mind faltered.
'No… it couldn't be. They were probably just ordinary bandits, lingering too close to the palace.'
Still, unease lingered. His hand drifted instinctively to the hilt of his sword as he quickened his pace, turning onto the path that would take him back to the capital.
As he walked, another memory rose unbidden—the queen's voice in the royal office, calm yet carrying an edge of worry.
"But, Jade… why haven't you investigated or tried to identify the assassins?"
He had hesitated then, avoiding her eyes.
"…Because there's no need."
Her brows had drawn together, her tone firm.
"No need? What do you mean?"
The guilt that had pricked him then returned now, heavy as the snow on the branches overhead.
"There have always been people who wanted the life of the head of the military like me," he had explained, forcing his voice to remain even. "If I tried to chase down every attempt, I'd never be able to do my real job. That's why I didn't pursue them."
He remembered how her right eyebrow had arched, skepticism plain in her eyes. He had pressed on, bowing slightly.
"My apologies for troubling Your Majesty. I'll handle it. You needn't worry."
She had sighed, a quiet sound full of restrained frustration.
"How can I possibly ignore threats to your life?"
Her sincere concern had stirred something complicated in him—a mixture of guilt and unexpected warmth. It wasn't often that anyone worried about his life, and though part of him resented having to lie to her, another part quietly cherished that someone cared enough to ask.
Wanting to put her at ease, he had forced a faint smile.
"Your Majesty, please don't worry. If something like this happens again, I promise I'll report it to you."
The memory of that moment lingered now, following him like a shadow as he descended the winding mountain trail. His steps were quick, but his heart felt heavy, each crunch of snow beneath his boots echoing the unease in his chest.
'I shouldn't have lied…'
Lowering his head against the chill wind, he moved with purpose, unwilling to let himself dwell too long on the queen's eyes—eyes filled not only with authority but with unmistakable worry for him. That memory tugged at something he had long kept buried.
He quickened his pace, focusing on the task at hand. Before long, the dim silhouette of his destination came into view through the swirling snow: Kim Jin's home, modest and unassuming, a faint plume of smoke curling from its chimney into the gray winter sky.
Queen Genie had just finished her daily duties and was on her way to the palace library for the first time in weeks when her aide, Chief Han, approached her with a troubled expression.
"Your Majesty," she began, lowering her voice, "reports of bandit activity have been increasing. There are even rumors that they reached the palace gates and threatened those inside."
Genie halted mid-step in the corridor, the light from the high windows catching in her dark eyes as she turned to face him.
"Bandits at the palace gates? What do you mean?"
Lady Park, who had been walking a few steps behind, stepped forward and bowed slightly.
"Your Majesty… There was an incident today. One of our palace members was nearly killed on the shortcut road between the palace and the city."
Genie furrowed her eyebrows.
"That's an extremely serious matter," she said, her voice sharp. "Who was it? Who faced such danger?"
Lady Park hesitated, her hands tightening around the hem of her robe.
"It was the newly appointed palace cook who entered the palace this morning."
"A newly appointed palace cook… today? If so…"
Genie's mind immediately leapt to the quiet young woman she had met in Westen Village not long ago.
"Is she safe?"
Chief Han quickly replied, "She is said to be unharmed, Your Majesty. Minister Jade happened to be nearby and rescued her."
'Jade…?'
Genie forced herself to keep her expression composed, even as a flicker of unease and relief passed through her heart.
"It's fortunate she wasn't harmed," she said evenly. "But we cannot allow this banditry to continue unchecked. Their tyranny has gone on long enough. We need to act—and quickly."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Chief Han and Lady Park replied in unison, their voices echoing softly through the stone corridor.
That night, after bathing and retreating to her chambers, Queen Genie lay beneath the high silk canopy of her bed, staring at the faint glow of the lantern on the far wall. Sleep evaded her.
Her thoughts tangled and tightened like vines, each pulling her further from rest. The bandits' boldness was no longer a distant nuisance; it was becoming a direct threat, creeping toward the palace itself.
'How can we root them out…?'