The council chamber was suffocating with tension.
Dan-Bi stood in the center, eyes unwavering despite the sharp gazes aimed at him.
"The Queen has brought grave accusations against you," Minister Kwon declared, voice thick with disdain. "Tampering with royal records? Stealing confidential documents? Meddling in affairs far beyond your station?"
Dan-Bi didn't flinch.
The Queen sat poised on her throne, the picture of calm authority.
"This is a serious matter," she said smoothly. "For a mere scholar to overstep—"
Dan-Bi scoffed.
"I was under the impression that truth was valued in this court," he interrupted. "Or has it been replaced by politics?"
Murmurs rippled through the room.
Minister Kwon's lip curled.
"Watch your tongue."
Dan-Bi's gaze flickered toward the Queen.
She met his stare with a knowing smile.
She had set this up.
And she was watching him burn.
"I have done nothing but seek the truth," Dan-Bi stated. "If that is a crime, then perhaps we should reevaluate what kind of kingdom we serve."
Minister Kwon slammed his hand against the table.
"This is not a debate!"
The Queen leaned forward.
"Then let's not waste time," she said. "What shall we do with a traitor?"
Dan-Bi's stomach twisted.
She was moving faster than expected.
His time was running out
The moment the Queen's words settled, the doors slammed open.
All heads turned.
Seong-Jin strode in, his presence commanding.
"Enough," he said, his voice sharp.
Dan-Bi's breath caught.
The Queen's lips pressed into a thin line.
"You are interrupting official court proceedings," she said coolly.
Seong-Jin didn't even glance at her.
Instead, his eyes locked onto Dan-Bi's.
For the first time, there was no amusement—no teasing smirk.
Only something deeper.
"Since when did seeking the truth become treason?" he asked the court.
Silence.
The ministers shifted uncomfortably.
The Queen's nails tapped against the table.
Dan-Bi stared at him.
This was dangerous.
If Seong-Jin aligned himself with him now—
He was putting his own future at risk.
Why was he doing this?
Seong-Jin exhaled, then turned to the Queen.
"If you insist on this trial," he said, "then allow me to personally oversee it."
The Queen's gaze darkened.
Dan-Bi clenched his fists.
This wasn't part of the plan.
Seong-Jin was supposed to be watching from the sidelines.
Not stepping into the fire with him.
The Queen smiled, but it was sharp.
"Very well," she said smoothly.
Dan-Bi's pulse pounded in his ears.
The game had just changed.
And now, they were both in too deep.
Later That Night…
Dan-Bi sat alone in the darkened hall, hands gripping the edge of the table.
He could still hear their voices echoing in his mind.
Traitor. Deceiver. Threat.
He exhaled shakily.
Footsteps echoed behind him.
He didn't have to turn.
"I told you not to interfere," he murmured.
Seong-Jin stopped just behind him.
"Too bad," he said. "I don't listen well."
Dan-Bi closed his eyes.
"I didn't need saving."
Seong-Jin let out a quiet laugh.
"That's the funny thing," he murmured. "I never thought you did."
Dan-Bi turned, intending to argue—
But stopped.
Seong-Jin was too close.
The firelight flickered across his face, casting shadows over sharp features.
His usual smirk was gone.
Replaced by something… unreadable.
Dan-Bi's heart pounded.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
Seong-Jin didn't answer.
Instead, he reached forward—
And brushed a stray lock of hair from Dan-Bi's forehead.
Dan-Bi inhaled sharply.
Seong-Jin's fingers lingered for a second too long.
Then, softly, almost imperceptibly—
His lips grazed Dan-Bi's forehead.
A feather-light touch.
Dan-Bi froze.
His mind screamed at him to move, to push him away.
But his body—
His body refused to listen.
Seong-Jin exhaled, voice barely above a whisper.
"Stop carrying everything alone," he murmured.
Then he stepped back.
Dan-Bi didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Seong-Jin smirked—just slightly—then turned toward the door.
"I'll handle the ministers," he said casually. "Try not to die before then."
Dan-Bi sat there long after he was gone.
His fingers touched his forehead—
Where warmth still lingered.