A sharp, slicing sound tore through the cold morning air.
Thud.
The arrow struck true—cleanly embedded in the left side of the boar's chest. Its momentum carried it forward for just a heartbeat longer before its legs buckled, and the beast crashed into the frost-hardened earth with a heavy, final thump. The silence that followed was thick and absolute.
Steam rose faintly from the fallen animal's snout.
Jade exhaled, only then realizing he'd been holding his breath.
Beside him, Genie slowly lowered her bow, her fingers still trembling slightly from the recoil. A gust of wind tugged at her cloak, sending a few stray strands of hair across her flushed face. She glanced at Jade, sensing the weight of his gaze—and quickly looked away.
"I heard people say a wild boar's been terrorizing the southwestern village lately," she said, her voice casual, though touched with a hint of bashfulness. "I figured I could train and hunt at the same time—two birds with one stone."
Jade didn't smile. His expression remained solemn, eyes locked on hers.
"Your Majesty," he said quietly. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Genie blinked. "Tell you what?"
"That you've been training in archery. Who's teaching you?"
There was no accusation in his voice—only a deep, restrained concern. He wasn't just a warrior responding to the danger she'd faced. He was a man who had watched her grow, from a curious, headstrong princess into a queen whose choices were often weighted with consequence.
Genie hesitated, then sighed softly. The morning was already no longer silent. The truth could follow.
"Since returning to the Hana Kingdom," she said, "I've been learning from Do-han."
Jade's eyes darkened with memory at the name 'Do-han.'
The last time he had seen the man was more than eleven years ago.
Back then, Jade had been a young palace warrior of Ash Kingdom, sent undercover to infiltrate Hana during the famed national martial arts competition. Even as a foreigner in disguise, he had fought his way to victory—claiming first place beneath a false name. But the man who had judged the competition, the one who had seen through his swordsmanship with sharp, ancient eyes, was none other than Do-han—the legendary blade of Hana, the ghost of battlefields past.
And in a quiet moment at the edge of that same tournament, Do-han had pulled Jade aside—not to accuse him, but to entrust him with something precious.
"Protect her. The Princess may be spirited, but her path will not be easy. If you're truly loyal to your blade, then serve her—not with your rank, but with your life."
He had meant Genie.
Jade's voice dropped lower, more tender than he intended. "The first time I met Your Majesty, you told me you wanted to become someone who could protect herself." His eyes lingered on her face, now kissed by the soft crimson light of dawn. "You've kept that promise… to yourself."
Genie's gaze drifted toward the horizon, where light broke through the mountains like a blade of gold piercing the veil of night. She smiled faintly, the memory flickering behind her lashes.
"You have a good memory, Jade," she said with a quiet laugh. Then, after a beat, her voice deepened—steadier, stronger. "But my goal has changed since then."
Jade tilted his head, sensing something more behind her words.
"How has it changed?"
"I no longer want to protect just myself," Genie said, turning to face him. "I want to become someone who can protect the Hana Kingdom."
She spoke the words not as a monarch making a decree, but as a woman who had seen her land bleed, who had watched betrayal unfold in marble halls, and who had stood alone in the cold silence of consequence.
There was no fear in her tone—only resolve.
And in that moment, she looked more like a queen than she ever had before.
Jade felt the air shift, as though even the wind had paused to listen. He looked at her for a long moment, something swelling quietly in his chest.
"Your Majesty…" he said softly, "you already are becoming that person. And not just because of your title. Because of your heart."
She didn't answer, but her eyes softened, touched with a glimmer that felt like gratitude.
Jade hesitated, then took a step closer, his voice lowering as something long-held surfaced.
"There's something I've been meaning to ask," he said, unable to keep the uncertainty from his tone. "It's been on my mind… since the day of the attack."
Genie's brows lifted slightly, her expression gentle.
"What is it?"
He drew in a breath.
"Right before we received word of the surprise assault from Ash Kingdom… you were about to say something. But you never got the chance."
He searched her face, his voice barely above a whisper now.
"What was it… that you were going to say to me?"
For a moment, silence settled between them again, broken only by the soft rustling of the wind through bare branches and the faint cry of a crow far in the distance.
Then Genie's lips curved, not with amusement, but with something softer—something wistful.
"Oh… that time." Her voice was quiet, reflective.
She remembered clearly now—the audience chamber bathed in amber light, the weight of truth settling like dust in the air, Jade standing before her, not as a warrior accused, but as a man who had always been loyal.
She remembered his question.
"Your Majesty… What do I mean to you?"
Her heart had leapt then—and she hadn't known what to say.
She still didn't, not completely.
And yet…
"I'll tell you later," Genie said at last, her smile mischievous but tender, like a secret she intended to keep—just for now.
Jade blinked, a soft laugh escaping his lips. His shoulders relaxed, the tension slowly unraveling like a knot undone.
It wasn't the answer he had hoped for.
But it was an answer filled with promise.
He didn't know the full shape of her heart yet—but something told him it wasn't closed to him.
And that was enough.
For now.
Suddenly, Genie gasped and pointed to the east, her eyes wide in wonder.
"Jade! Look—the sun is rising!"
He followed her gaze.
The horizon had ignited—crimson and flame-gold pouring over the snow-dusted peaks, lighting the sky with the birth of a new day. The valley stretched below them in stillness, trees silvered with frost, rooftops glistening like glass.
In that moment, everything felt suspended—the burdens of court, the weight of war, the wounds of the past.
Just the two of them, standing beneath the heavens as the world awakened.
Genie tilted her head back, letting the sunlight touch her face. Her breath formed clouds in the air, but her cheeks were flushed, glowing.
She looked young. Free.
Jade could not take his eyes off her.
He smiled, not as a soldier or a minister—but as a man who had quietly fallen into something deeper than duty.
And in the warmth of that first light, he closed his eyes and prayed.
'Lord… I want to protect her and I want to stand beside her through the storm and stillness. With sword when needed, with silence when asked, with loyalty that does not waver. Guide us… In all the days to come."
On a crisp October morning, the entrance to Westen Village stirred with life. The air was cool, tinged with the golden hush of autumn, and the villagers had gathered in droves to welcome their sovereign.
At the forefront stood the magistrate, his gaze lifted with reverence toward Queen Genie, who sat poised upon her steed. Her regal presence seemed to quiet even the wind.
"Your Majesty," the magistrate said, bowing low, his voice trembling with sincerity, "thank you for gracing our humble village with your presence. We are deeply honored by your care. Please, have a safe journey back to the palace."
All at once, the villagers bent in a deep bow, their movements unified, their respect palpable.
Queen Genie, her gloved hands loosely holding the reins, offered them a gentle smile. Her eyes, filled with warmth, swept over the villagers and their magistrate.
"I, too, was glad to see you all in person," she replied, her voice calm yet resolute. "As soon as I return to the palace, I will issue orders for the restoration work your village needs. Please be patient just a while longer."
The magistrate bowed again, lower than before. "We are truly humbled by Your Majesty's concern."
Then, turning to the man on horseback beside the Queen, he added, "We owe our lives to you as well, Minister Jade. Your foresight in reinforcing the border and your leadership in defending our village saved us all."
Jade offered a small, composed smile, his expression quiet and unreadable.
Before departing, Queen Genie cast a final glance toward the crowd. Her gaze found Enna, who stood silently among the villagers. The Queen's expression softened, and as Enna bowed her head, Genie returned the gesture with a faint, knowing smile.
"We'll take our leave now," the Queen said. "Thank you, all of you, for coming out to see us off."
She gave the reins a light tug. Her horse turned gracefully, and the procession began to move.
"Safe travels, Your Majesty!"
"May your journey be smooth, Your Majesty!"
The farewell cries rang out like a chorus, carried on the autumn breeze.
Queen Genie smiled once more, her expression full of grace, and rode ahead. The royal guards closed in protectively around her, their formation swift and silent.
Jade and the deputy commander, Danjin, followed closely behind.