Minister Lee Bae-won's frown deepened, the hard lines of his face sharpening in the lamplight. "Your point is valid, Minister Han, but if we continue to postpone matters like this, we risk never completing the consort appointment process at all."
His words landed like a stone dropped into still water. Ripples spread—several noble representatives leaned forward, nodding vigorously.
"That's true."
"I agree as well."
The air thickened with a quiet hum of consensus, subtle yet pressing, like a current pulling inexorably in one direction.
Han Son—ever steady, ever measured—accepted their response with a slow nod.
"Very well. Your opinions are valid. All items discussed today will be reported to Her Majesty." His gaze swept the table once more. "Is there anyone else with something to say?"
The room stilled, heavy with expectation.
And then his eyes locked on Jade again.
Jade's throat tightened. He bowed his head, feeling the weight of every stare, every unspoken demand in the room.
'They want me to speak. They want to know where I stand on this consort matter.'
But words would not come easily. Not when the Ash Kingdom's envoy and Minister Lee Bae-won's push seemed too neatly aligned. Not when one careless statement could shift the balance of power in ways even he could not control.
So he stayed silent, his jaw clenched, his hand tightening subtly over his knee beneath the table.
Supporting the resumption of the consort appointment felt like surrendering—like bowing to the Ash Kingdom's silent command. The very thought tightened the knots in Jade's stomach, stirring a storm of conflicted loyalties.
But that wasn't the only reason his heart recoiled.
'Moonsen...'
The name echoed sharply in his mind, a shadow darker than any doubt.
'Her Majesty might be considering him as the consort…'
A cold weight settled in Jade's chest. Moonsen—the man who had slipped through their defenses like a ghost, a spy cloaked in lies. The very idea of the Queen's heart turning toward such a man was a betrayal far deeper than politics.
Jade's fists clenched beneath the table, nails digging into his palms. He couldn't accept it. Couldn't imagine her hand resting in the grasp of a deceiver who had infiltrated their kingdom, who had worn false faces to manipulate and destroy.
And yet… he couldn't bear the thought of Moonsen becoming the royal consort in the future.
'I love her. I love her so much that I can't let that happen.'
This love, stubborn and fierce, tethered him even as he wished to sever every bond. The thought of her walking down the aisle with another man squeezed his heart so tight it ached.
He felt helpless. Pathetic. A soldier bound not by chains but by an invisible thread—watching, waiting, unable to act, unable to let go.
'I need to keep my distance from Her Majesty…'
He whispered the mantra to himself, as if it might shield him from the pain.
'Then maybe someday, I'll forget…'
Jade swallowed hard, renewing the painful resolve once more.
A single breath, slow and steady, to steady the storm inside.
And yet, the ache remained.
"Your Majesty, Minister Han Son is here."
Queen Genie lifted her head from the stack of documents on her desk, her quill pausing mid-sentence. The lamplight framed her figure, soft against the deep blue of her royal robe.
"Come in," she said, her voice calm but faintly weary from a long day.
The doors opened with a muted creak. Han Son entered, his steps measured, and bowed deeply until his forehead nearly brushed the polished floor.
"Your Majesty, I am here to report on the high-ranking officials' meeting."
"Please, have a seat."
He obeyed, settling opposite her at the low table, and placed a neatly rolled document in front of her with both hands.
Queen Genie broke the seal and began skimming the contents. Grain allocation reforms, bandit suppression, academy restructuring—all familiar items already dissected in endless council debates. Her eyes drifted quickly, her expression neutral.
Then she stopped.
Her gaze lingered at the last item, the words pulling her upright as if an unseen string had tightened.
"Resumption of the consort appointment…?"
She looked up, brows faintly arched. "There was also a request to resume the royal consort appointment, I see."
Han Son inclined his head slightly, choosing his words with care. "Yes, Your Majesty. The ministers and noble representatives requested that you proceed with the appointment process."
For a brief moment, Queen Genie's mind wandered, unbidden.
'Jade…'
The head of the military. He had been there, sitting among the ministers.
'Did he… support this proposal too?'
Her chest tightened with an inexplicable unease. Jade had always been steadfast, a pillar of loyalty and restraint. Would he stand behind such a motion? And why did the thought trouble her so deeply?
Han Son's voice gently cut through her reverie. "I would like to hear Your Majesty's thoughts on this matter."
Genie hesitated, fingers brushing the edge of the parchment.
"If you feel it is still too early…" Han Son added carefully, reading her silence.
"No, it's not that," she said, shaking her head slightly. "It's just…"
Her voice trailed off, as if her words had tangled somewhere between her mind and her heart.
The truth she wanted to speak—her private fears, her personal reluctance—remained locked behind her lips. She lowered her eyes, hiding the flicker of emotion that had surfaced, and for a moment, the room felt heavier than it had when he'd entered.
Han Son waited in patient silence, his hands folded neatly over his lap. The warm light from the oil lamps flickered softly across his face, revealing the slightest glimmer of curiosity as he waited for his Queen to continue.
Queen Genie lowered her gaze to the report still resting in her hands. Her voice, when it came, was quiet but edged with a weight she couldn't hide.
"Ultimately, it is my decision to appoint the royal consort… But now…" She hesitated, a faint crease forming between her brows. "…I'm not even sure about my own choice."
Han Son blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He had long assumed that her heart was already set—on Jade, the loyal head of the military, the man many believed most worthy of her trust.
Carefully schooling his expression back into calm, he asked gently, "Shall I consider this matter postponed, then, Your Majesty?"
A bitter smile tugged at Genie's lips as she nodded.
"Please do, Minister. I understand the ministers' concern for national stability and their urging to proceed with the appointment. But I still… need more time. Please understand."
Han Son rose and gave a small, reassuring smile, the kind meant to ease burdens even when words could not. "Please do not worry, Your Majesty. Everyone will respect your decision."
He bowed deeply and stepped out, leaving behind only the fading echo of his footsteps and the lingering scent of ink and parchment.
Queen Genie remained still, her eyes fixed on the silent door, until at last she exhaled a long, weary sigh. The room, moments ago busy with conversation, now felt unbearably hollow.
Her heart weighed heavily in her chest. She was the Queen, the guardian of Hana Kingdom's stability and future—but she was also a woman who still carried scars from a love she had dared to confess and had seen rejected.
The memory returned unbidden. Her own voice, trembling as she confessed, and Jade's eyes—pained, yet unyielding—as he gently refused. Her chest tightened, a dull ache settling deep within.
Politics demanded decisiveness, the cold logic of alliances and succession. But her heart, so stubbornly human, rebelled against the notion of marriage as duty.
'Father…'
A quiet longing filled her eyes.
'What would my father have said at a time like this?'
He had always known how to calm her storms, his steady voice reminding her that she could bear any crown as long as she remembered why she wore it.
A sudden thought tugged at her.
'Spring has come… and I haven't even visited my father's tomb yet.'
She stood abruptly, smoothing down the folds of her robe, resolving flickering where despair had been.
"Chief Han," she called.
Moments later, Chief Han entered with a quick bow.
"Yes, Your Majesty. You called for me?"
"I wish to visit my father," she said softly, but with the quiet authority of someone who had already made up her mind.
Chief Han's eyes softened with understanding, and she bowed again.
"I shall make the arrangements at once."
Queen Genie and her attendants arrived at the royal tomb just as the spring breeze swept gently across the hillside. Petals from nearby flowering trees swirled lazily in the air, catching in the folds of silk robes and hairpins as if nature itself was bowing in reverence.
The tomb, once gleaming white on the day of King Gen's funeral, was now softened by time and season, its stones lined with emerald-green sprouts pushing stubbornly through the soil. It was a sign of life reclaiming grief, of seasons moving forward despite unhealed hearts.
Genie stepped forward alone, her slippers whispering over the grass until she stood directly before her father's resting place. She closed her eyes, and for a moment, the world stilled.
Behind her, Chief Han, Lady Park, and the rest of the attendants stood in respectful silence, heads bowed, their breaths quiet as they waited for the Queen while she's praying.