What Comes Next in Silence

Ji-hwan didn't sleep.

He crept back into camp before the dawn, the first light flashing on Seong-min's hair like fire. The king roused, half-lidded eyes with worry.

"You were gone."

Ji-hwan smiled. "Needed air."

"Did the air explain to you why you look like you saw a ghost?"

Ji-hwan settled beside him, back to the fire.

"It wasn't a ghost."

But he said no more.

Because how do you explain to someone that they weren't meant to live?

That an immortal priestess had controlled both their deaths and their fates?

That love itself had been deemed a rebellion?

No—Ji-hwan would bear this secret by himself.

Just a little longer.

Just until he came up with a way to silence her.

But the thing about darkness is—when you open the door,

it finds the cracks.

Seong-min had nightmares that night.

He stood in the old palace, cold and gold and endless.

And a voice behind him said, "He lies to protect you. He always has."

He turned—but no one was there.

Only a mirror.

And in it, his reflection smiled.

Not his smile. Not his.

Seong-min woke gasping, heart racing. Ji-hwan was beside him, calm in sleep.

But Seong-min's fingers trembled.

Because something was wrong.

And if Ji-hwan wouldn't tell him…

He would find the truth himself.

Even if it cost him the man he loved.