Chapter 8

The Crown Prince rode at the front of the royal column with his black cloak billowing in the wind like smoke behind him. His horse was restless and unsettled by the chill in the air— or perhaps by its rider.

The soldiers rode in silence and only the sound of dry twigs and leafs rustling under the iron hooves could be heard. A handful of ministers followed, they were grumbling quietly about the cold, the distance, and the "unnatural stillness" that had been with them since they'd left the capital. It was unlike the cheerful laughter and jokes that usually went with them when Grand Prince Wang Hain was in charge. 

Wanghain who was riding beside the crown prince, smiled at every peasant and bowed politely to every regional noble who greeted them along the way.

Wangyeon did not speak unless he was addressed to in something important, and even if he replied, it was usually short and it made one think that his silence was even better, but when in silence, he was feared more. 

⸻

By midday, they arrived at a rural military outpost. One could clearly see the crumbling walls, tired soldiers and little food the place had.

"They were loyal to Mother's brother," Wanghain murmured. "Until the Crown passed… elsewhere."

Wangyeon didn't make any comment at Wang Hain's words.

Instead, he stepped forward and summoned a crackle of dark red energy across his palm.

"Bring the commanding officer," he ordered.

Within minutes, a hunched man in rusted armor knelt before him. "We—We serve the Crown, Y-yo—your Hi- high-ness." the man stuttered. 

"Then why do your walls fall?" Wangyeon inquired.

"Supplies have been… late. The court…"

Wangyeon turned to the ministers behind him, voice cold.

"Fix it." he ordered.

They all scurried like rats, Orders were scribbled, the aides were dispatched.

Wangyeon watched them run around.

No one dared question him — not openly, but the fear in their eyes said more than words.

Wangyeon noticed.

And the silence pressed tighter around him.

⸻

That Night in the Mountain Forest Near the Outpost

The wind was howling between the trees like wolves.

Wangyeon stood alone at the edge of the camp, watching the stars above. His thoughts wandered to fire again but not warmth.

"Do you ever sleep?" Wanghain asked, approaching with two cloaks. "Even ghosts rest."

"I don't dream." Wangyeon replied.

"That's not what I asked." Wanghain said as he handed cloak over to Yeon. 

Wangyeon accepted the cloak. It was warmer than expected.

"They hate me" he muttered.

"They fear you."

"What's the difference? Do you everlike something you fear?"

Wanghain said nothing because he knew the difference and He counted on it.

⸻

Alll of a sudden, they both heard movement in the forests.

 "Shh!" 

Wangyeon stopped moving and signaled for his brother to stop talking. They saw shadows in the trees 

A whistle cut the air and then a flash of movement. 

Three figures burst from the forest with blades drawn and their hoods pulled low.

Wangyeon didn't move until he had to.

The first attacker lunged. His blade stopped mid-air— caught by Wangyeon's bare hand dark and red light surged in him. 

In a blink, the attacker screamed— his sword melted and his arm seared.

The others backed away too late.

Wangyeon's hand already rose and it wasn't planning on coming down alone. 

The trees themselves shuddered, roots splitting as a blast of energy exploded from his body — slamming all three attackers into the snow, unconscious or worse.

Silence returned.

His breath was steady but his eyes were distant.

Wanghain, who had been watching the brief fight at the side, knelt beside one of the bodies and retrieved a blade marked with a Southern clan's crest.

"Assassins?" he said coolly.

"Or a message," Wangyeon replied.

"Or a test," Wanghain added under his breath. "Someone wanted to see what you'd do."

He smiled faintly. "And you didn't disappoint."

⸻

Later – Alone in Camp

Wangyeon sat by the fire.

Not for warmth — he didn't feel cold anymore, not after he had allowed that much energy surge through him, but because the silence around him had become too heavy to carry.

He held the dagger Wanghain had given him and turned it in his hands like he always does when confused, and for a moment, he imagined what it would feel like to trust no one. Thankfully he knew he would always have Wanghain.

Then he whispered to himself:

"Am I a prince… or a threat in chains?"

....

But the answer did not come.