Seven days passed.
Seven days since the king decided Seonghwa's life was something he could sign away on paper.
Yet Seonghwa didn't crumble. He didn't shut himself in. He kept moving, kept working, kept pretending the world wasn't shifting beneath his feet.
Every morning, he tied back his hair, put on his simple healer's robe, and walked into the physicians' hall like nothing had changed. He healed villagers with fevers, elderly with aching joints, and children who kept running into tables. He didn't accept a single coin. He never did.
People loved him for it, though he never asked for that love. He simply liked seeing hope bloom on someone's face. It made him forget—just for a little—what fate had planned for him.
But even that peace had an expiration date.
During his break, Seonghwa sat under the shade of a low peach tree beside the hall, sipping water and letting his mind drift. He'd barely closed his eyes when someone shouted his name.
"Your Highness!"
A soldier sprinted across the courtyard, almost tripping twice, before skidding to a stop in front of him. Sweat dripped down the man's forehead as he bowed shakily.
"I bring a message from His Majesty."
Seonghwa took the scroll, a pit forming in his stomach before he even unrolled it.
He read the words once.
Then again, slower.
His heart dropped like a stone.
You are to leave for Geumhwa today. Prepare yourself immediately.
No explanation.
No warning.
No goodbye.
Just an order carved in cold ink.
Seonghwa's breath hitched. "Today? He didn't tell me any of this. How can—"
The soldier bowed again, avoiding eye contact. "Those are the king's words, Your Highness."
Seonghwa stood, fists tightening around the scroll. "Fine. If he wants to send me off like luggage, he can at least say it to my face."
He stormed toward the palace.
As he walked, he grabbed the arm of the nearest guard. "Find Commander Song Mingi. Tell him to escort me to His Majesty's chamber. Now."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
Seonghwa didn't stop. His jaw was set, his eyes burning with fury and betrayal.
If the king wanted to rid himself of his "useless son," he was going to hear Seonghwa's voice before he did it.
And the corridors of Silla Palace trembled with every step he took.
To say Seonghwa was angry would've been a total understatement. The prince was fuming. That quiet, sweet smile everyone loved? Yeah, gone. Evaporated. Replaced with the kind of death glare that could kill.
Mingi practically jogged behind him, but when they reached the King's chamber doors, Seonghwa lifted a hand. "Wait outside."
His voice was low. Too calm. The type of calm that meant someone somewhere was in danger.
Mingi didn't argue. He just stepped aside with that worried "this is above my power" look.
Seonghwa pushed the door open and walked in. The King didn't even bother looking up at first. He just kept sipping his tea like Seonghwa was a breeze blowing through the palace.
"Your Majesty," Seonghwa said, fighting to keep his voice steady, "I was not informed that I'm leaving today."
The King finally looked at him. Blank expression. Zero remorse. "Are you complaining? The one thing you can do for your people, and you refuse?"
Seonghwa blinked, fighting the urge to snap the tea set in half with magic alone. "I agreed to go to Geumhwa," he said. "But I am not leaving today."
The King actually laughed. Laughed. Then took another sip, like this was entertainment.
"You were requested. Specifically."
Seonghwa stilled. "Requested? By who?"
"The Captain," the King said, letting out a bored sigh. "He said that if you aren't there within three days, he'll launch an attack powerful enough to wipe out the human race."
Captain. The ruthless demon prince? Was the letter from him. Was the letter from him? What does he want with me?
Seonghwa understood immediately. The journey took two and a half days. Meaning… yes.
He had to leave today.
His anger didn't vanish, but it settled into something sharp, clean, and controlled. He turned toward the door, but paused, looking back over his shoulder.
"Your Majesty," he said quietly. "If I don't die at the demons' hands… you will pay for this."
The King stood up immediately. His sword was unsheathed in a heartbeat. "HOW DARE YOU THREATEN YOUR FATHER?"
Seonghwa turned back slowly, expression flat.
"Of course I don't dare. How could I ever?"
His bow was perfect. His sarcasm wasn't subtle at all.
He stepped out into the hallway where Mingi was waiting.
Mingi didn't waste time. "We have to leave. I'm coming with you."
He hesitated before adding, "Deputy Jeong Yunho as well… and Jung Wooyoung of the Royal Shadow Unit."
"Oh," Seonghwa said. "So the whole circus."
"What do you need to do now?" Mingi asked.
Seonghwa sighed. "Apparently, get ready."
They headed to his chambers, and the second the doors opened, the maids rushed forward, bowing so fast their hairpins trembled.
"Your Highness, the bath is prepared."
Before he could blink, they were guiding him to the milk bath. Warm water, soft petals, scented oils… all the things he usually found relaxing, except today he felt like he was being prepped for sacrifice.
Afterward came the skin care, the oils, the powders… and then the moment that truly broke him:
A maid approached with beauty makeup usually reserved for women.
Seonghwa raised a brow. "Why is that being applied on me?"
"The King's orders," she said carefully. "He said you must look… overwhelmingly beautiful."
Seonghwa inhaled like he was summoning patience from a different universe. "Fine. Whatever."
When he tried tying his hair up, another maid panicked.
"Your Highness, it must be left down. It suits you better."
"Then… do what you want," he muttered.
By the time they finished, he was dressed in a hanbok that wasn't fully masculine or feminine—something in between, something ethereal. When he stepped in front of the mirror, he genuinely didn't recognize the person staring back.
He looked like royalty carved out of moonlight.
And he hated that he had to look beautiful for the Demon King.
Seonghwa stepped out of his chambers, hanbok flowing like calm water around him. The minute the doors opened, he froze.
They were all there.
Mingi.
Deputy Yunho.
Jung Wooyoung.
The complete escort.
Even the horses stood still, as if they understood the gravity of today.
Seonghwa swallowed hard. "Alright," he muttered to himself. "For my people. Just… breathe."
He took one step forward, then another, grounding himself. He wasn't going as a prince. He was going as a sacrifice dressed in expensive silk.
Then—because life apparently wasn't done playing with him—the King appeared.
Everyone bowed. Seonghwa bowed too, stiff and formal. "Your Majesty."
The King stepped closer with a look that Seonghwa absolutely did not trust. "My son," he said, voice warm like fake honey. "I'm proud of you. May you give us an heir soon."
Seonghwa's polite mask cracked for a second. The glare he shot his father could have turned the entire courtyard to stone.
"Do not speak highly of me, Father," he said quietly. "Not today."
Before the tension could thicken, the King nodded to one of the guards. The guard stepped forward, carrying a wooden box sealed with golden clasps.
The King held it out. "A gift from me to you."
Seonghwa frowned. "What is this?"
"A token," the King said, his voice suddenly dipped in poetic smugness. "Something to be used when the Prince of Geumhwa gets… too close. A reminder that even beauty has teeth."
Confused, Seonghwa lifted the lid.
Inside lay the phoenix dagger. Slim. Sharp. Carved with patterns of phoenix feathers. Beautiful, deadly, and absolutely symbolic.
One strike and the demons cease to exist.
Seonghwa's breath hitched.
A weapon.
To survive the very marriage they were forcing him into.
He looked up at his father. The King smiled as if he had given him jewelry.
Seonghwa closed the box with a soft click. "I will keep this," he said. "Not for the prince. But for my own safety."
Mingi stepped forward, gently resting a hand on Seonghwa's back. "We should head out."
Seonghwa nodded once, eyes still burning.
"For Silla," he whispered.
But deep down, he wondered if the dagger would end up protecting him…
or killing the one man fate kept shoving him toward.