Chapter 81: Three Months
We spent the next three months preparing.
Woo-jin strengthened the fortress's defenses, sent messages to his allies, and gathered intelligence on the Crown Prince's movements. I expanded my farm, trained more workers, and documented my techniques for the imperial scholars—the ones who would come with the Crown Prince, whether I wanted them or not.
But I also made time for small things. For walks under the auroras. For meals shared in our chambers. For the quiet moments that had become the foundation of our life together.
One evening, as we sat in the greenhouse, watching the peppers ripen, Woo-jin said, "I never thought I would have this."
"What?"
"Peace. Happiness. Someone to come home to." He looked at me, his expression soft. "I spent so long being cold that I forgot what warmth felt like. And then you came."
I leaned into him, his arm coming around me. "I'm not going anywhere."
"I know." He pressed a kiss to my hair. "That's what makes me brave enough to face what's coming."
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Chapter 82: The Crown Prince's Arrival
The Crown Prince's ship appeared in the sky on a clear spring morning, its golden hull blazing against the blue. I watched it descend from the greenhouse, my hands steady on the soil, my heart steady in my chest.
Woo-jin joined me at the fortress gates as the ship landed. He was dressed in his formal robes, his face calm, but I could feel the tension in his hand when he took mine.
"We face him together," I said.
He squeezed my hand. "Together."
The ramp lowered, and Crown Prince Yi Hwan emerged. He was as handsome as I remembered, his smile as practiced, his eyes as sharp. Behind him came a retinue of attendants, scholars, and—I noticed with a chill—two figures in the grey robes of the Imperial Inquisition.
"Your Grace. Duchess." The Crown Prince bowed, his movements fluid, perfect. "What a pleasure to see you again."
"The pleasure is ours," Woo-jin said, his voice flat. "Welcome to Bukseong."
The Crown Prince's smile widened. "I've heard so much about what you've accomplished here, Duchess. I'm eager to see it for myself."
His eyes met mine, and I saw the calculation behind the charm. He had not come to congratulate us. He had come to take something.
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Chapter 83: The Tour
I gave the Crown Prince a tour of my farm myself. It was the only way to control what he saw, what his scholars documented, what he reported back to the capital.
He asked questions—endless questions—about my methods, my techniques, the role of my Ki. I answered them all with the same careful vagueness I had used with Jung. Nothing about the forbidden ritual. Nothing about the Star Flower. Just farming.
"You're very guarded," he observed, as we walked through the greenhouse. "One might think you have something to hide."
I smiled, keeping my voice light. "I'm a farmer, Your Highness. The only things I hide are my seed stocks. You can't blame a woman for protecting her trade secrets."
He laughed, but his eyes were cold. "Trade secrets. Yes." He stopped, turning to face me. "The Imperial Inquisition has been reviewing the observer's reports. Jung Ho-won was quite insistent that your methods involve… unusual applications of Celestial Ki."
"Jung Ho-won was an academic with more enthusiasm than expertise."
"Perhaps." He stepped closer, and I forced myself not to step back. "But the Inquisition is interested in you, Duchess. Very interested. And they are not as easily dismissed as a nervous scholar."
I met his gaze. "The Inquisition is welcome to investigate. I have nothing to hide."
He studied me for a long moment. Then he smiled—a different smile, one that made my skin prickle. "We'll see."
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Chapter 84: The Feast
That evening, a feast was held in the Crown Prince's honor. The great hall was decorated with flowers from my greenhouse, and the food—my food—was served on silver platters.
I sat beside Woo-jin at the head of the table, my hand in his beneath the cloth. Across from us, the Crown Prince held court, his laughter ringing through the hall, his charm on full display.
But I saw the way he watched Woo-jin. The way his eyes lingered on the Duke's hands—warm, steady, free of frost. The way his smile tightened when Woo-jin leaned close to whisper something in my ear.
He knew. He knew the curse was broken. And he knew it was because of me.
After the feast, as the guests were leaving, the Crown Prince approached us. "A word, Your Grace? Duchess?"
Woo-jin's hand tightened on mine. "Of course."
We withdrew to a private chamber, the Crown Prince's attendants waiting outside. The door closed, and for a moment, no one spoke.
Then the Crown Prince said, "You've healed him."
It was not a question.
I didn't deny it. "Yes."
"How?"
"My methods are my own, Your Highness."
He stepped closer, and I felt Woo-jin move beside me, a silent warning. "The Inquisition has ways of extracting information, Duchess. Ways that are not pleasant."
"Are you threatening my wife?" Woo-jin's voice was low, dangerous.
The Crown Prince smiled. "I'm making an observation. Your Grace. The Duchess possesses a gift that could change the Empire. That could feed millions, heal thousands, strengthen our armies beyond measure. And you would keep her here, in this frozen wasteland, growing peppers."
"She is not a tool to be used," Woo-jin said. "She is a person. My wife. And she is not going anywhere."
The Crown Prince's smile faded. "You forget your place, Duke. Your father forgot his place, and you see what happened to him. To his wife. To his house."
The room went cold. I felt Woo-jin's Ki surge—not the old cold, the curse's cold, but something new. Something controlled. Something dangerous.
"My father is dead," Woo-jin said, his voice ice. "My mother is dead. Their crimes were their own. I am not my father, and my wife is not my mother. We have done nothing wrong. We have broken no laws. We have simply—" He took a breath, and the temperature in the room rose. "We have simply lived. If the Crown Prince considers that a crime, then let him bring his charges. Let him face the Northern army. Let him explain to the Empire why he is persecuting a woman who feeds the hungry and heals the sick."
The Crown Prince was silent for a long moment. Then he laughed—a genuine laugh, surprised and almost admiring.
"You have more of your father in you than I thought," he said. "And more of your mother, perhaps. She was fierce, too. Before she broke."
Woo-jin's hand tightened on mine. "She didn't break. She chose."
The Crown Prince inclined his head. "We'll see what the Duchess chooses. When the time comes."
He left without another word.
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Chapter 85: The Threat
That night, I lay in Woo-jin's arms, staring at the ceiling.
"He's not going to stop," I said.
"No."
"What are we going to do?"
He was quiet for a moment. Then: "We fight. We prepare. We build alliances. We make ourselves too strong to be threatened."
"And if that's not enough?"
He turned me to face him, his hands warm on my skin. "Then we run. We find somewhere he can't reach us. Somewhere we can be safe. Together."
I touched his face, tracing the line of his jaw. "You would give up everything? Your title? Your lands? Your people?"
He caught my hand, pressed a kiss to my palm. "I would give up everything for you. But I don't think it will come to that."
"How do you know?"
He smiled—that rare, warm smile. "Because we have something he doesn't. We have each other. We have the loyalty of the North. And we have—" He touched the ring on my finger, the Star Flower stone glowing faintly. "—something he can never understand. We have hope."
I kissed him then, and for a moment, I let myself believe.
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Chapter 86: The Scholars
The Crown Prince's scholars spent the next week combing through my farm, my greenhouse, my records. They took samples of soil, of plants, of water. They interviewed my workers, my assistants, even the soldiers who guarded the fortress gates.
I watched them work, my expression calm, my heart steady. They would find nothing. I had made sure of that.
But one of them—a young woman named Scholar Choi—approached me on the last day, her face troubled.
"Duchess," she said, bowing. "May I speak with you privately?"
I led her to the greenhouse, where we sat among the peppers and herbs. She was nervous, her hands twisting in her robes.
"I've read all your records," she said. "Your methods are remarkable. But there's something missing. Something you're not telling us."
I waited.
She looked up, meeting my eyes. "My grandmother was a healer. She had a small gift—nothing like yours, but enough to help the people of our village. When I was young, she taught me that the best healing comes from balance. From harmony between the healer and the healed." She paused. "I see that in your work. In the way you treat the soil, the plants, the people. But I also see that you're afraid. And I want to know why."
I studied her for a long moment. She was young, sincere, and—I suspected—dangerously honest.
"The Crown Prince wants something from me," I said finally. "Something I can't give him. And he's willing to use any means to get it."
Scholar Choi nodded slowly. "He's been asking about forbidden rituals. About the old techniques. He believes you're using them."
"I'm using what the land gives me. What my Ki allows. Nothing more."
She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "I won't tell him anything. He doesn't care about the truth. He only cares about what he can use." She stood, bowing deeply. "I hope, one day, the Empire will have leaders who care about healing more than power. Until then, I will keep your secrets, Duchess. You have my word."
She left, and I sat in the greenhouse, alone with my peppers, wondering if I had just made an ally or a fool.
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Chapter 87: The Crown Prince's Departure
The Crown Prince left three days later, his ship rising into the sky like a golden bird. I watched from the greenhouse, my hands in the soil, my heart heavy.
He had not gotten what he came for. But he had not given up, either. I could see it in the way he looked at me before he boarded, the way his smile never reached his eyes.
"This isn't over," Woo-jin said, coming to stand beside me.
"I know."
He took my hand, his fingers lacing with mine. "But we bought time. Time to prepare. Time to grow."
I looked at the farm spread out before us—the green shoots pushing through the soil, the workers tending the rows, the life that I had coaxed from the frozen ground. "Time to build something that can't be taken away."
He squeezed my hand. "Exactly."
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Chapter 88: The Summer Harvest
Summer came to Bukseong—not warm, by the standards of other worlds, but warm enough. The permafrost thawed, and my farm exploded with growth.
Peppers ripened on their vines. Soybeans filled their pods. Herbs scented the air with rosemary and thyme. And in the center of it all, a single ginseng plant—the one Woo-jin had given me, the one I had nurtured from a seedling—produced its first flower.
I knelt beside it, my hands hovering over its petals, feeling the pulse of life beneath my fingers. This was what I had been born for. This was what I had died for, been reborn for. Not power. Not politics. This. The quiet miracle of growth.
Woo-jin found me there, as he often did, and knelt beside me.
"It's beautiful," he said.
"It's alive." I looked at him, at the warmth in his eyes, at the smile that was no longer rare. "We did this."
"We did." He leaned over, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "Now, I believe you promised to teach me how to make doenjang."
I laughed. "Are you ready for the challenge?"
He pretended to consider. "I have faced void-beasts. I have fought rebels. I have navigated asteroid fields. I think I can handle fermented soybeans."
"We'll see."
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Chapter 89: The New Normal
The summer passed in a blur of growth and harvest. My farm produced enough to feed the fortress and the surrounding settlements, with enough left over to trade with the other frontier worlds. The North was no longer a place of scarcity. It was a place of abundance.
Woo-jin governed with a steadiness I had come to admire. He was not his father—he had no desire to conquer, to overthrow, to prove himself through violence. He wanted only to protect what was his. To build what had been broken.
And I built with him. Not as a Duchess, not as a political figure, but as a farmer. As a woman who had learned that the most powerful thing in the world was not Ki or magic or political influence. It was the ability to grow something from nothing. To find life where others saw only death.