Chapter Forty-Eight: A Royal Summons

Dan-Bi barely had time to breathe before another challenge arrived.

The royal decree came at dawn.

A formal summons—straight from the king.

Dan-Bi's fingers tightened around the scroll as he read the message:

"Scholar Dan-Bi is to present himself before His Majesty at the afternoon court session to provide insight into the recent border disputes."

Border disputes.

Dan-Bi's stomach twisted.

A trap.

He had deliberately kept his distance from military matters—a scholar questioning military affairs was like asking a wolf to guard sheep.

And yet… here he was.

Summoned.

And he already knew who was behind this.

Prince Seong-Jin.

The tension from last night had barely settled before he made his next move.

Dan-Bi exhaled sharply. Fine. Let's play.

—

The Royal Court – Afternoon

The council chamber was packed. Ministers, generals, and advisors lined the walls, their voices murmuring in low anticipation.

Dan-Bi entered, every step measured, every expression unreadable.

At the head of the room, seated beside the king, was Crown Prince Seong-Jin.

His expression? Unmoved.

But his eyes—they gleamed with something dangerous.

Dan-Bi bowed deeply before the throne. "Your Majesty."

The king barely looked up. He was an aging man, weary from years of rule. "Scholar Dan-Bi, you have been summoned to advise on the matter of the northern borders. The reports from our generals conflict. Your insight is requested."

Dan-Bi's pulse remained steady.

Requested? No. Tested.

His eyes flicked toward Seong-Jin.

The prince's lips curved ever so slightly.

Dan-Bi took a slow breath. If they wanted a test, he would give them a performance.

He stepped forward, voice calm. "Your Majesty, the issue is not the border—it is the silence from our allies. Goryeo's forces are not moving because they do not have to. Our ministers claim we are at risk of invasion, but I disagree."

Gasps. Low whispers.

One minister scoffed. "You disagree?"

Dan-Bi smiled slightly. "Yes. And I have proof."

The room stilled.

Dan-Bi turned to the table where the maps were laid out. "Goryeo's forces have been stationed in the same region for the last three years, with no major shifts. If they were preparing for war, they would have reshuffled ranks. Yet, all their strongest generals remain in their capitals. Why?"

The ministers hesitated.

Dan-Bi continued smoothly. "Because they are not preparing for war. They are watching." His fingers tapped the map. "And do you know who they are watching?"

Silence.

Then Dan-Bi lifted his gaze—straight to Seong-Jin.

"They are watching us."

Seong-Jin's expression did not change.

Dan-Bi turned back to the ministers. "Goryeo has no reason to attack—not unless we provoke them first. And yet, some of you insist on sending troops to the borders." He tilted his head. "Perhaps the real question is not about their intentions, but ours."

The shift in the room was immediate.

Some ministers tensed. Others exchanged knowing glances.

Dan-Bi had done more than just answer the king's question. He had exposed political divisions.

He had drawn blood.

The king finally spoke. "Then you suggest we hold our position?"

Dan-Bi bowed slightly. "Your Majesty, I suggest we investigate who benefits from war before we claim we need one."

A deadly silence.

Then, unexpectedly—a chuckle.

Seong-Jin.

"Impressive," the prince murmured.

Dan-Bi turned to face him fully. "I only speak the truth, Your Highness."

Seong-Jin's smirk deepened. "Yes. And yet, truth is the most dangerous thing in this court."

A warning.

Dan-Bi met his gaze head-on. "Then I suppose I should tread carefully."

Seong-Jin exhaled softly, eyes sharp. "Yes. I suppose you should."

—

Outside the Court – Later

Dan-Bi barely made it past the corridor before a hand grabbed his wrist.

He turned sharply—Seong-Jin.

The prince had followed him.

Dan-Bi yanked his arm away, his voice low. "I assume this is not proper court etiquette, Your Highness."

Seong-Jin's eyes burned. "You are playing with fire."

Dan-Bi smiled faintly. "You were the one who lit the match."

A tense silence.

Then the prince leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You knew."

Dan-Bi stilled. "Knew what?"

Seong-Jin's gaze flicked back toward the court chambers. "That some ministers were pushing for war not because they fear Goryeo, but because they wish to unseat my father."

Dan-Bi's lips barely parted.

He had suspected. But he did not realize how much Seong-Jin already knew.

The prince smirked. "It's amusing, really. You claim to be just a scholar, yet you maneuver like someone who has everything to lose."

Dan-Bi exhaled sharply. "I have nothing to lose."

Seong-Jin's gaze softened—just for a moment.

Then, just as quickly, he straightened. "Then let us see how much you are willing to gamble, Scholar Dan-Bi."

Dan-Bi said nothing as the prince turned and walked away.

Let us see, indeed.

—