The palace was quieter than it should have been.
Torches burned low in their sconces, the halls echoing only with the soft scuff of patrol boots and the sigh of wind through paper screens. Yet beneath the hush, tension curled like smoke. A soldier had vanished without explanation, and whispers traveled fast in places where silence was meant to be absolute.
King Jo Han Ji sat alone in his private chambers. The night pressed close around him, thick with incense and shadow. He held a cup of warmed wine, though he had not drunk. His gaze remained fixed on the lacquered table before him, where his reflection trembled in the red liquid like a fractured ghost.
The soldier's absence should have been a small matter. Men deserted, men fled debts or shame, men vanished into night with coin that was not theirs. Such things happened. But this soldier had been carrying evidence. Evidence against the traitor he wanted dead.
Han Ji's jaw tightened, and at last he raised the cup, drinking the wine down in one slow swallow. The heat burned his throat, but the ache in his chest remained colder still.
Kim Yunxi.
That face haunted him even here, even now. Pale skin, trembling lips, eyes like glass brimming with tears—and beneath it, something sharper, something Han Ji could not crush no matter how he pressed.
Defiance.
The boy had looked at him with fear, yes, but never submission. Always some ember glowing behind the veil of fragility. An ember that set Han Ji's blood alight with fury… and with something he couldn't quite press his fingers on.
He set the cup down hard enough to crack its lip. Wine spilled across the table, red spreading like blood.
"Yunxi.....Kim Yunxi." Han Ji whispered, as if to convince himself. "Even if you burn me, I will not let you go."
Outside, the wind howled, and in the dark, the king's fingers flexed as though gripping an invisible throat.
---
Far from the palace, Yunxi sat beneath the lamplight of He Ju's home. He had found solace in this boy's home. His hair freshly brushed, face composed.He was the very image of frail innocence, yet his mind worked like a blade in the dark.
He Ju was speaking again—gentle reassurances, words of loyalty, oaths that sounded almost like prayer. Yunxi listened, nodding at the right moments, letting tears shimmer in his eyes when silence demanded it. Each word wrapped another chain around He Ju's heart, another knot in the net Yunxi was weaving.
At one point, He Ju reached across the table, taking Yunxi's hand in his. His thumb brushed the soft skin there, and his eyes—once merely kind—now glowed with something deeper. Possession.
"I swear it," He Ju said hoarsely. "If she accuses you, if they call you.....—I will stand before them all. I will tell them you spent every moment of last night here, with me. They will not touch you."
Yunxi lowered his lashes, hiding the cold smile that bloomed within. Exactly what I wanted.
But when he spoke, his voice was trembling silk. "He Ju… you would destroy your own name for me?"
"For you," He Ju whispered fervently, "I would destroy everything."
Yunxi squeezed his hand, lips curving in a fragile smile that promised gratitude, though inside he felt only calculation. Then you will destroy yourself first, if I command it.
---
Later, when He Ju left the chamber, Yunxi moved to the window. Moonlight spilled pale silver across the floorboards, and for a moment, the stillness pressed heavy.
His reflection in the glass wavered, and with it came another image—another night, years ago. Blood on his hands, the smell of iron, the broken gasp of a dying person. He was younger then, weaker, yet the memory was sharp as a blade against his skin.
The first time.
He had promised himself it would never happen again. And yet, here he stood, hands raw from scrubbing, another life snuffed out beneath his touch.
The guilt should have consumed him. Once, perhaps, it might have. But now… now it twisted into something darker. A sick kind of clarity. The realization that truth was nothing but clay, to be molded in the hands of one who dared.
He Ju believed him. Soon others would too. Lies were his salvation, and he would wield them like steel.
Yunxi's lips curved faintly at his own reflection, a smile as thin as moonlight.
So easy.
---
The next day, voices rose among the king's men. They had searched the estate high and low, but no sign of the missing soldier had surfaced. Rumors spread—had he run off? Had he been silenced? Yet none dared bring the thought of foul play before the king without proof.
And proof was exactly what they lacked.
Han Ji's captain reported cautiously that evening, bowing low in the throne room. "Your Majesty, there are… inconsistencies. The man vanished on duty. His last known task was to deliver a sealed report. It never reached its destination. Some claim they saw him near the stables. After that—nothing."
Han Ji sat back on his throne, expression unreadable. His fingers tapped once against the armrest.
"Nothing," he repeated softly.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The king's eyes narrowed. Yunxi's face swam again in his thoughts—those trembling lips, those tear-stained cheeks. Too soft to kill, they all believed. Too delicate to soil his hands.
Han Ji's mouth curved in a dark smile.
"Search harder," he ordered. "He is clever. But not clever enough to hide from me."
---
Back in He Ju's chambers, Yunxi lay curled on a cushion, the lamplight soft against his face. He Ju sat nearby, reading a scroll he had barely glanced at for an hour, too distracted by the sight of Yunxi's quiet form.
When Yunxi stirred, He Ju rose at once, kneeling by his side.
"Are you well?"
Yunxi opened his eyes slowly, letting them glisten as if just waking from a troubled dream. He caught He Ju's hand with delicate fingers, whispering, "Stay with me… don't leave me alone."
He Ju's heart clenched. "Never. I will never leave you."
Yunxi rested his head against He Ju's shoulder, eyes half-closed, his voice a soft murmur: "Then I have nothing to fear."
But inside, his thoughts were ice. Fear, yes. But not mine. Yours. And one day, I will decide how deeply you drown in it.
---
Outside, far away, King Jo Han Ji stared at the sky, lips shaping a vow.
"No matter how you hide, no matter who you cling to—you are mine to torment, I will get you."
And in another place, Yunxi whispered to his reflection, "No matter what I become, I won't lose."
Two voices, two vows, carried by the same night wind. Threads already tangling into a knot that would strangle them both.