When her whispered words of remembrance were done, she opened her eyes slowly, her gaze softening on the carved name etched into the tomb.
'Father…'
Her heart clenched, but instead of tears, a bittersweet warmth filled her chest. She lifted her chin, looking up at the vast spring sky, where clouds drifted lazily in soft layers of gold and white.
'Though you are gone now… I still have someone watching over me.'
Her steps carried her to the adjacent tomb—her mother's.
As a child, she had avoided coming here, unable to face the raw wound of loss. Each visit had once been agony, like pressing her hand against an open flame. But now… standing before her mother's resting place, she realized the pain had changed.
It was still sorrow—but one she could breathe through, one that no longer hollowed her out entirely.
Chief Han broke the silence in a warm and gentle voice.
"Her Majesty the Queen Consort loved you dearly in life. Even now, she must be looking down from the heavens, proud of you."
Genie's lips curved faintly, a whisper of a smile beneath the weight in her eyes.
"Do you think so? I hope she is…"
Her gaze lingered on the tombstone, fingers brushing the hem of her robe as she fought the ache of longing.
And then—
A hiss sliced through the quiet.
Shhhfft—
An arrow.
It came out of nowhere, a black streak slicing the peaceful air, aimed straight for her eyes.
Instinct surged through her body—she twisted sharply, skirts whipping with the movement.
Thwack!
The arrow missed her by a hair's breadth, splintering against a tree trunk just behind her. Bark and feathers exploded in a sudden, violent burst.
"Your Majesty!!!"
Her attendants shouted in panic, their voices overlapping as they rushed forward, hands reaching for her and weapons at their sides.
Genie's breath hitched.
'Where is it coming from...?'
Her sharp eyes swept across the landscape, the green field now heavy with tension. A whisper of movement caught her gaze. Between the distant thickets, shadowy figures darted like ghosts—quick, practiced, and unafraid.
A cold gleam flickered in Queen Genie's eyes.
"We must pursue them—immediately!"
Without a second's hesitation, she turned on her heel and sprinted toward the horses tethered behind the royal tomb. The court ladies gasped in alarm and gathered their skirts, while the royal guards, already on high alert, charged after their queen.
In one fluid motion, Genie vaulted onto her steed, her robes fluttering like a battle flag in the wind. She seized the reins and spurred the horse forward. The beast responded instantly, galloping with powerful strides toward the distant thicket where the intruders had disappeared.
Behind her, hooves pounded against the earth as the guards mounted and followed, forming a protective vanguard. Branches lashed at their arms, leaves flew past their faces. But Queen Genie didn't flinch. Her mind raced faster than the wind biting at her cheeks.
The chase led them into a dense bamboo forest. Towering green stalks stretched skyward like spears of an ancient army. The sunlight flickered in between the leaves, turning the world into a blur of shadow and light.
Then, without warning, she halted.
Genie pulled hard on the reins. Her horse neighed in protest but stopped, hooves skidding slightly in the damp soil. The sharp echo of pursuit faded into breathless silence.
Only her guards emerged from the bamboo mist behind her—faces flushed, armor glinting with sweat, eyes darting in all directions.
"Where did they go...?"
From her perch atop the horse, Genie scanned the swaying bamboo. There was no sign of movement. No sound, save for the rustle of leaves and the ragged breaths of her guards.
One of them, his chest heaving, managed to speak.
"Your Majesty… it seems they've vanished."
Genie's jaw clenched. She narrowed her eyes.
"There were definitely more than a couple of them... Where on earth did they go?"
No answer came.
But deep within, she felt it—like the sudden chill that precedes a storm.
They hadn't been ordinary trespassers.
She knew who they were.
'Bandits.'
The palace gates swung open with urgent clatter as Queen Genie returned, her cloak trailing behind her like a banner of resolve. Dust still clung to her boots, her face was set in stone—eyes dark with fury, yet composed with the dignity only a sovereign could command.
"Summon the senior military officers. Immediately."
Her voice rang out through the marbled corridor like the strike of a gong.
Servants and messengers scattered at once, her order flying ahead of her like wildfire. Word traveled fast. In less than an hour, high-ranking officials streamed into the Queen's strategic chamber, the air inside thick with tension.
Among them was Minister Jade, the head of the Hana Kingdom's military, who had only just returned from an inspection of the capital's weapons storehouse. Without even changing out of his travel-worn uniform, he entered the chamber with haste and reverence.
Soon, the queen's office was filled with the highest-ranking military minds of the realm—battle-hardened generals, tacticians with ink-stained fingers, and Jade, standing at the helm with an expression carved in stone.
Queen Genie sat at the center of the council table, her back straight, her hands clasped before her. Her eyes moved slowly across the room, meeting the gaze of every officer present. No one dared speak.
Then, in a voice low but unwavering, she said, "I hereby declare war on the bandits."
A ripple of stunned silence followed. Several of the officers exchanged glances. Some instinctively straightened, while others furrowed their brows in disbelief.
Genie's words hit like a drawn sword.
'War?'
"But… Your Majesty," one officer began, then stopped himself. He wasn't the only one who had believed the threat of the bandits had been extinguished in the last campaign. The memory of bloodshed still hung over the capital. Hadn't they already paid the price?
"It appears," Queen Genie continued, her tone cool yet sharpened by pain, "that the previous suppression was insufficient. These bandits—no, these cowards—have dared to intrude upon the sacred grounds of the royal tomb."
Gasps broke out around the room.
To violate the resting place of the former king—her father—was more than an act of rebellion. It was blasphemy. It was a war.
A heavy silence fell again, broken only by the sound of General Jade's boots stepping forward.
His voice, though calm, carried the weight of solemn duty.
"Your Majesty, were you harmed in any way?"
Queen Genie met his eyes. There was a flicker of emotion there—pride, grief, and fury, all tightly reined in.
"No. I was not injured." She paused. "But I have come to a clear understanding. This war is not over. Not until they are entirely eradicated."
Jade bowed deeply, his head lowered, his fist clenched over his heart.
"I deeply apologize for allowing such a disgrace to reach Your Majesty. I have failed to maintain the peace we swore to protect. I will convene the war council immediately. We will root them out—down to their last hiding place—and ensure they never again breathe defiance into this land."
His words hung in the air like a vow.
Queen Genie stood slowly from her chair.
She shook her head. Slowly. Firmly.
"No. This will not do."
Jade, who had been watching her intently, sensed something shift in her. It wasn't just anger anymore. It was conviction—deep, unshakable, and absolute.
Then came the words that changed the air in the room entirely.
"This time, I will go myself."
Silence.
It hit the room like a thunderclap.
The officers, stunned into stillness, looked at one another with disbelief. Mouths opened, but no words came. Eyes widened. Time seemed to pause.
Finally, the deputy commander broke the silence, his voice stammering with panic and disbelief.
"Y-Your Majesty... Isn't it too dangerous for you to personally go and suppress the bandits…?"
His words hung awkwardly in the air, as if trying to pull back what had already been said.
But Genie didn't flinch.
"No," she said clearly, her voice like tempered steel. "I will go in person. Not to fight. But to negotiate—with their leader."
Murmurs broke out again, but she raised a hand. The chamber quieted instantly.
"We've been chasing shadows," she said. "Hunting isolated camps, eliminating the visible—while the root survives and festers in the dark. What we've done so far is nothing more than trimming weeds. And weeds always return, don't they?"
The officers looked down, shamed by her words—because they knew she was right.
They had claimed victory. Celebrated. Moved on.
And now, the rot had returned stronger, bolder—enough to violate royal grounds.
Queen Genie's voice softened, but it was laced with something deeper—sorrow, perhaps, or weariness.
"You've all seen it with your own eyes. Again and again."
A heavy silence fell over the room.
Most of the officers averted their gazes, their shame weighing heavier than their armor.
Only Jade held her gaze.
Unmoving. Calm.
The others couldn't see it—but she could.
That familiar stillness in his eyes. The way his jaw tensed ever so slightly. The way his shoulders, though squared, betrayed a quiet storm beneath the surface.
She turned to him once more.
"Jade," she said, her voice low but resolute, echoing across the chamber like a command carved in stone. "Give me all the information we've gathered so far on the locations of the bandits. I must know everything about their leader and go to meet him myself."