Creaaak—
The old wooden gate swung open on rusted hinges.
Kim Jin, standing anxiously in the courtyard, turned sharply at the noise. Relief and worry warred across his features when he saw who it was.
"Sir," Jade greeted quietly, bowing with formal respect.
Kim Jin hurried toward him, voice tight with frustration and concern. "What in heaven's name has been going on with you? No—never mind that. Come inside. We'll speak in the study."
Without another word, Jade followed him into the house.
The study smelled faintly of old paper and ink. Books lay stacked in corners, scrolls gathering dust. The door shut firmly behind them, cutting the two men off from the rest of the world.
As soon as they sat at the low table, Kim Jin leaned forward urgently.
"How have you been all this time?"
Jade answered steadily, his voice composed despite the turmoil twisting inside him. "The Ash Kingdom launched a surprise attack on the border. I went to stop them."
Kim Jin's brow furrowed, eyes narrowing.
"And after that?"
"I fulfilled my duty," Jade said, gaze steady, "and returned to defend Hana."
For a long moment, Kim Jin said nothing. Then, slowly, he exhaled a deep, weary sigh.
"Word of you driving out the Ash Kingdom forces has already reached their royal court. Why did you act so recklessly? Do you understand what this means?"
"I am the Chief of Hana's military," Jade said quietly, his hand resting lightly on the pommel of his sword. His voice, though calm, carried the unmistakable weight of authority. "No one knows the strength of our defenses better than I do."
His gaze didn't waver.
"There's an armory in the southwestern village—the very one they attacked. Small, yes. But inside are the most advanced weapons Hana has ever obtained. New firearms, precision weapons—all imported from Arabia at great cost."
Jade's tone hardened slightly. "If I had opened that armory with Ash's troops so close, it would have sparked a full-scale war. I judged that forcing Ash's withdrawal first was the only way to protect both the weapons and our people."
Understanding dawned slowly in Kim Jin's eyes. His lips parted, but no words came at first. Finally, he let out a breath like a man setting down a great weight.
"I… didn't even think of that possibility." His voice faltered with shame. "For a moment—I thought perhaps you—"
His words dissolved into the heavy silence.
Unable to meet Jade's steady gaze, Kim Jin looked down and muttered, "It was my foolish suspicion."
"It's alright," Jade replied, his voice softer now, though his expression remained unreadable.
For a moment, something like shame passed across Kim Jin's face, but it was soon replaced by the energy of a man who hated idleness. He straightened abruptly.
"Enough of this. Sitting here solves nothing. I'll leave for Ash at dawn and explain everything myself. If I go in person and speak on your behalf, this misunderstanding will be cleared up."
Jade's eyes darkened almost imperceptibly.
"Please don't act rashly, Sir," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "Did you not already rush to Ash when you first heard I was dismissed as a candidate for royal consort? That premature move alone prompted Ash's reckless attack. And yet… they retreated. Do you not see it? They revealed their impatience. For now, we must remain watchful and cautious. If we show our hand too soon, we'll only repeat the same mistake."
Kim Jin's jaw tensed, but after a moment, he nodded with reluctant agreement. "You're right. Perhaps… my recklessness has already caused too much trouble."
A heavy silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft rustle of the paper scrolls scattered around the room. But Kim Jin's gaze soon lifted again, sharp now, calculating.
"Still," he said slowly, "there's something I don't understand."
Jade gave no response, waiting.
"Why didn't you tell me about the weapons sooner? You've always known the strength of Hana's military. Why keep something so critical hidden from me?"
There was no accusation in his tone—only hurt, confusion, and perhaps the sting of betrayal from a man who had once taken him in as his own.
Jade's expression remained calm, but in his heart, something twisted.
"It's not that I didn't tell you," he said quietly. "It's that I couldn't."
Kim Jin's brows drew together.
"Couldn't?"
"Yes." Jade's voice was steady, like a river flowing over stone. "Even as Chief of the military, weapons procurement has never been under my command. It's always been the responsibility of a separate department—deliberately detached from military oversight. For centuries, Hana has done it this way. I only learned of the armory's contents because of the emergency posed by the invasion. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have known either."
Kim Jin absorbed this with visible effort. His knuckles whitened slightly where his hands rested on his knees. At last, he gave a shallow nod.
"…I see," he muttered. "Of course. It wouldn't be easy for you to interfere with that department's affairs."
But then—something sharper, more dangerous—flickered behind his eyes.
"Even if you became the royal consort?"
The moment the words left Kim Jin's lips, the air in the room shifted.
Jade's gaze narrowed slightly. Cold understanding dawned—he could see straight through the thin veil of concern to the ambition crouching behind it like a viper in tall grass.
Kim Jin leaned forward, lowering his voice. "You were falsely accused. You were removed unjustly. But now your innocence has been proven. I've heard the reports myself. Doesn't this mean you can still rise? If you become the Queen's consort, she'll reveal the nation's secrets to you—including full access to Hana's arsenal."
The bitterness that had long slept in Jade's heart stirred.
For eleven long years, he had been a shadow in Hana. A spy, a blade concealed in silk sleeves, always working for Ash. He had stolen state secrets. Whispered lies into the right ears. Betrayed friends. Watched innocent men fall for crimes they hadn't committed.
All for Ash.
And for what? For power? For belonging? Or for the man in front of him, whose ambition was as naked as it was pitiful?
Jade had already chosen. He was no longer a blade for Ash to wield. No longer a pawn in someone else's ambition.
Yet he couldn't bring himself to tell Kim Jin—not now, not like this.
The man before him had taken him in when he was nothing, clothed him, given him a name. To Jade, that loyalty still cut deeper than any betrayal of kingdoms.
So instead, he buried the truth beneath another quiet lie.
"Sir," he said, "Her Majesty has decided to suspend the appointment of a royal consort."
Kim Jin blinked.
"What?"
"After Ash's attack, she's chosen to focus on stabilizing the kingdom first. There will be no consort. Not for some time."
Kim Jin sank back as if the news had physically struck him. His expression was a bitter mix of frustration and regret.
"The Ash King was counting on you. He believed that through you, Ash could finally pierce the heart of Hana's court. And now… the chance is lost." His shoulders slumped, worn down by his own miscalculations. "You were right. My rashness ruined everything. Still… I will go to Ash. I'll explain everything clearly so they don't doubt your loyalty. You deserve that much."
Jade gave a slight bow, hiding the war within him. Loyalty. The word felt like ash in his mouth.
Past one in the morning, beneath the shroud of a moonless sky, Jade moved silently through the sleeping capital, his footsteps heavy with the weight of conflicting loyalties. The streets were deserted, save for the occasional flicker of torchlight in distant guard posts, their glow weak against the suffocating blackness above.
It had taken him far too long to face Kim Jin. For weeks, he had offered excuse after excuse—urgent military duties, border patrols, reports to file—anything to delay that meeting. But in truth, none of those obligations compared to the storm warring within him. How could he explain his betrayal to the very man who had plucked him from nothing and raised him into power?
Yet tonight, after countless restless nights, Jade had steeled himself. He had prepared his words carefully, crafted every sentence like a soldier sharpening a blade, each point honed to deflect suspicion and justify his actions.
And it worked.
Kim Jin had believed him.
Every word.
That trust—so easily given, so undeserved—now pressed like a lead weight on Jade's chest. Guilt rose thick in his throat, bitter and sour, impossible to swallow down.
It was Kim Jin who had sent him to Ash's prestigious military academy, who had taught him swordsmanship and strategy, who had spoken for him in the courts. Without that man's influence, Jade might still be that starving orphan crouched in alleyways, clutching scraps of bread with trembling hands.
Yet despite all of that—despite the debts carved deep into his bones—Jade could no longer follow the path laid before him. He couldn't live for Ash. Not anymore.
There was something more precious now. Something he had never expected to find.
And not even a shadow of hesitation remained.
In fact, with every passing day spent beside the Queen, watching her rule with justice and compassion, his conviction only deepened. Hana was nothing like the Ash Kingdom he had once served. Here, the rulers loved their people—not with empty words, but with deeds. They did not bleed their citizens for personal ambition. They built schools, restored farmland, sent physicians to mountain villages.
It wasn't just a nation worth protecting.
It was home.
When Jade finally reached the entrance of the royal palace, he stopped, raising his head slowly to the heavens.
The sky offered no comfort. Not a single star shone above him. It was as if the darkness itself recoiled from the turmoil within his heart, unwilling to witness what he had become.
The breath he drew felt sharp in his lungs, cold and thin like winter wind, and in that quiet moment, the confident warrior disappeared—leaving only the trembling boy who had once prayed for scraps of mercy from strangers.
"Lord…" His whisper broke softly into the stillness, too frail to disturb even the restless wind. "What should I do…?"