Out of the corner of his eye, Moonsen discreetly stole a glance at the queen standing so composed, her eyes fixed on the sky's endless canvas. In that quiet moment, his gaze held a delicate mixture of deep respect and a flicker of something more—something tender and quietly affectionate.
The long, cold months of January and February had forced them into close collaboration as they meticulously prepared the annual cultural delegation to the Ash Kingdom. In that time, Moonsen and Queen Genie had shared far more moments together than ever before. Their conversations had grown richer, their glances lingered longer, and an unspoken understanding blossomed beneath the surface.
Yet, in stark contrast, the distance between Queen Genie and Jade had stretched painfully wide. Since the day Genie had bared her heart to him, an invisible wall had risen, separating them almost completely. Nearly two months had passed with little to no personal exchange—no stolen moments, no quiet words.
Genie avoided Jade with a careful, deliberate grace, while Jade, trapped by pride and uncertainty, struggled helplessly to find a way to melt the cold silence between them.
Standing beside her, Moonsen smiled sweetly, his presence a steady comfort in the sea of formality. Genie returned his smile with a quiet grace, a small but sincere gesture of gratitude for his unwavering loyalty. In that moment, she found strength in his steadfast support.
Before long, the queen's procession arrived at the grand Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The heavy wooden doors swung open, and about fifty members of the cultural delegation stood in perfect formation, bowing deeply to the queen in unison—a gesture both reverent and resolute. The ministry officials, clad in their formal robes, stepped forward to greet her with polite, measured bows.
The Minister of the Foreign Affairs approached with a composed demeanor, his voice calm yet charged with purpose.
"Your Majesty, shall we begin?"
"Go ahead," Genie replied, her tone steady and clear.
At her words, the delegation members swiftly took their designated places, moving with the practiced precision of a well-rehearsed orchestra. The air thickened with tension, a collective breath held in anticipation—it was the crucial moment before unveiling months of meticulous preparation.
With a subtle nod from Moonsen, the court musicians stationed at the front row lifted their instruments. The first notes of traditional Hana Kingdom music cascaded into the room—light, joyous, and rich with history. The melodies danced through the air, weaving an ancient story that stirred the hearts of all present.
As the familiar strains flowed, new harmonies wove themselves gently into the music, layering an unexpected richness that breathed fresh life into the timeless tune. The fusion of old and new echoed like a living tapestry of culture and innovation.
At the same time, dancers clad in flowing lavender robes glided gracefully to the center of the hall. Their movements were fluid and delicate, a traditional dance that seemed to paint the air with softness and elegance. Every step, every gesture was a celebration of heritage, mesmerizing the audience.
Soon after, the group responsible for the banquet entered, pushing long tables draped in pristine white cloth. In a perfectly synchronized motion, they pulled the covers away to reveal an array of colorful traditional dishes. Under the warm sunlight streaming through tall windows, the food sparkled—vivid reds, greens, and golds tempting the eyes and promising the rich flavors of the Hana Kingdom's culinary heritage.
Then came the art team, steadily pushing large wheeled boards laden with exquisite pottery, delicate crafts, and vivid paintings. Each piece seemed to carry the pure, elegant spirit of the Hana Kingdom—a testament to centuries of artistry and devotion. As Queen Genie's eyes swept over the collection, a radiant smile blossomed across her face, lighting up the room.
'Everyone really worked so hard,' she thought, her heart swelling with quiet pride.
Her attendants trailing behind her mirrored that pride with gentle smiles, their eyes gleaming with satisfaction. Under Moonsen's calm and steady leadership, the delegation's faces shone with confidence and dignity—a reflection of flawless preparation and unwavering commitment.
As the final notes of the musicians faded, their hands slowly stilled. The dancers, caught in the grace of their last pose, held the moment in suspended beauty. Queen Genie broke the silence with warm, enthusiastic applause, her joy palpable and contagious.
Following her lead, the officials and court ladies rose in unison, their clapping filling the hall with appreciative sound. The delegation members exchanged proud smiles before bowing deeply toward their queen—a gesture both humble and triumphant.
Queen Genie's gaze swept over them, shining with heartfelt pride.
"You have all worked so very hard," she said softly, her voice filled with genuine admiration.
Turning her eyes to Moonsen, she added, "As director, you've worked hard as well, Moonsen."
Moonsen shook his head, a modest smile playing on his lips.
"No, Your Majesty. It is all thanks to the excellence of our members. We will continue to do our best until the very moment we present all of this in the Ash Kingdom."
His bright smile seemed to catch the spring sunlight, sparkling as if imbued with the season's own promise and hope.
That evening, a heavy tension hung in the air of Kim Jin's study, settling into every corner like an invisible weight. The soft glow of lamplight cast long, trembling shadows across the rows of scrolls and maps lining the walls. Kim Jin sat at his desk, his expression grave, a sealed letter resting squarely in front of him like a stone dropped in still water.
He slid it forward with two fingers.
"This is from the Ash Kingdom's palace. Read it."
Jade stepped closer, his boots clicking lightly against the polished floor. He took the letter and carefully unfolded it, the crisp parchment whispering as it opened.
His eyes darted over the neatly written lines, and with each word his expression darkened further. The message was both political and personal—an urgent urging from the Ash Kingdom to gather forces quickly and to hasten the appointment of a state consort now that Queen Genie's rule had stabilized. And not just any consort. They wanted him—Jade, the strongest candidate—to marry Queen Genie. A move calculated to shift power subtly and ultimately weaken the sovereignty of the Hana Kingdom itself.
The weight of the words pressed on him like iron chains.
Silently, he lowered the letter back onto the desk, his jaw tightening, a grim look cutting across his face.
"What do you think?" Kim Jin asked, his tone deliberately even, though his eyes watched sharply.
Jade didn't answer immediately. A thousand thoughts swirled in his mind—of Genie's soft confession to him, of the distance that had grown like an icy wall between them, of the Ash Kingdom's audacity to turn something so deeply personal into a political weapon.
"…," he finally breathed, but no words followed.
Kim Jin leaned back, folding his arms.
"There's no need to rush," he said, his voice tinged with caution. "Even the Ash Kingdom court knows such matters take time."
Still, Jade remained silent, his hands curling slightly at his sides.
Kim Jin studied him more closely as he probed, "What is it? Is something wrong…? Has your relationship with the queen worsened?"
Jade's reply came heavy, almost reluctant, as if torn from somewhere deep within.
"Yes, sir. We have grown far apart… Far more than before."
Kim Jin's eyes widened, surprise breaking his otherwise composed face. He had suspected a rift—Jade's recent silence about the queen had hinted at it—but hearing the truth spoken aloud struck harder than he expected.
"Did you… do something to lose Her Majesty's trust?" he asked cautiously.
Jade's lips curved faintly on one side, a humorless echo of a smile.
'Something to lose her trust…'
The thought tasted bitter.
He shook his head slowly, his expression twisting with a quiet self-contempt.
"No. I did no such thing."
The cynicism in his tone caught Kim Jin off guard. His brows knitted together.
"Then why on earth have you two grown distant? From her days as a princess, weren't you the one who stood by her the most? If you're not close to the queen, then who is?"
At that, an image flickered in Jade's mind, sharp and unbidden—Moonsen. He saw him laughing softly, standing at Queen Genie's side, speaking with her in warm familiarity. The memory stabbed through Jade's chest like a blade, his heartbeat spiking painfully.
Jade, naturally sharp and perceptive, knew the palace's currents well—perhaps too well. No matter how much he pretended to ignore it, nothing escaped his notice. He had seen how the queen had begun to drift toward Moonsen, how her gaze lingered on the man she now worked so closely with.
And he had seen something worse—how she had looked at him, Jade, these past months: like someone who had moved on, who had let go. She hadn't spared him even the smallest glance, hadn't given him the slightest opening to bridge the gap between them.
A restlessness gnawed at him, raw and unrelenting.
'Has she left me completely…?' The thought chilled him.