The minister stood deep in thought on the balcony of his house, hours after his son had visited him for the first time in a long while since their arrest. He wasn't a bad father, but he knew that somehow, somewhere, his son would be the one to pull him out of the mess he had created. After court had ended, a few officials—men who either still believed in him or those who had once shared in the struggles, secrets, and wealth of the royals—had come to him in secret. They spoke of rumors about his son. He had not believed them at first, but soon realized how distant he had become from his son. In truth, he didn't really know him anymore—only remembered him as the adorable, naive child he used to be. His nephew had even told him of his suspicions that Yunxi might have had a hand in the disappearance of the soldier, with some sort of proof to back it.
Minister Kim was still turning these thoughts over in his head when Yunxi pushed open the door. He entered slowly, his eyes scanning every person in the room without saying a word until he came to stand beside his father. He lingered there for a moment, as if wrestling with demons in his mind. His face was unreadable, but anyone could see that this gathering weighed heavily on him. His gaze finally dropped to his father, who looked up at him and softly called his name, urging him to sit. Yunxi did not respond. His eyes lingered a moment longer before he spoke, his tone calm but firm—though the words were clearly meant for everyone present.
"I would like to speak to my father…"
The officials exchanged glances. One of them chuckled, speaking to Yunxi as if to a child, his playful expression and tone condescending. They had known him since he was little—a sweet, lovable boy who would often come at times like these, sit beside his father, and smile brightly at them even during serious discussions.
"Do you have private matters to share with your father here? Go on, we won't—"
Yunxi cut him off sharply, his voice echoing in the room.
"Alone."
The word was cold, almost rude.
"I want to speak to my father alone. Now."
His tone was so direct, so heavy with the bitterness in his heart, that no one could misunderstand. After all, they knew what he had been through—the death of his mother before his eyes, his grandmother's death in prison, his family blaming him, the relentless investigation, the young lady from the south, the king's suspicion—everything was chaos. At last, the three old men slowly dragged their weary bodies out of the chamber.
Yunxi's eyes followed their retreating figures before he turned back to his father. His voice was icy when he spoke.
"You are not supposed to have guests, am I right? Do you even care about the consequences of your recklessness? Father, do you ever care about anyone else besides yourself?"
His rage was clear now.
His father rose from his seat and faced him. "Yunxi…" he called softly, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. Yunxi shoved it away.
"I didn't come here to play father and son," Yunxi said, stepping back. "I came to ask simple questions, and then I'll leave. So tell me the truth."
His father looked at him, sighed, and nodded in understanding.
"Did you kill the queen? No—did you make me kill the queen?"
Yunxi narrowed his eyes, watching closely to see if the man would lie. When his father didn't answer, Yunxi stepped closer.
"It was you, wasn't it? You knew the cakes were poisoned, and you gave them to me. So what? So I could be the scapegoat?!" His eyes welled with tears. "What excuse would you have given if I were convicted, if your own son was branded a murderer? Father, I was just a boy who obeyed you. That's all I ever did."
The more he thought about it, the more he despised himself for his foolishness. He had believed his father wasn't so cruel. He had agreed to that foolish deal because he never thought his father capable of such betrayal. And now? He realized he was going to lose the bet he had made with the king
"I thought you two were friends," he whispered bitterly. "You told me you cherished her. How could you kill her?"
His father's voice broke. "I cherished her. I was with her through thick and thin. I… I loved her."
The words struck Yunxi like thunder.
"What?"
He was stunned. His innocence—the very thing he despised in himself—made him cling to the question.
"Yes. We promised each other that we'd have many children, travel the world, build a farm in the countryside—together."
Love? His father and the queen? What about his mother?
"Father…?" Yunxi asked weakly, his eyes pleading for an explanation.
The minister turned away, unable to meet his son's gaze. "She told me she would never let anyone else have her. That she would follow me wherever I went. But when he snapped his fingers, and suddenly she forgot all those promises."
"You're too young to understand," he went on, voice low. "You haven't loved yet. You haven't had someone wrap their arms around you at night, only to wake up and find them in someone else's arms the next morning."
Yunxi didn't know if his relationship with Han Ji counted, but he understood the pain. Overnight, Han Ji had stopped pampering him, giving his affection to someone else. He knew how it felt to be cast aside by the one you cherished most. But still—because of his father's love affair, his mother had died. Because of that, Yunxi had become the worst version of himself.
"What about Mother?" Yunxi asked quietly. "Did you love her?"
Their eyes locked for a long moment before Yunxi turned to leave.
"That was different," his father murmured. "She was… your mother was my muse. Always, always my muse."
Yunxi understood what he meant. Despite everything, there had been something strong, something real, between his parents.
"He's going to find something," Yunxi said suddenly, his voice strained. "If he does… he promised to kill us all. And I—I would be the one to…" He trailed off. Kim jihwan, the minister pulled Yunxi into his arms. After all, this was his only son. "We must stick together now. The others no longer see us as family. They plan to beg the king for mercy, to be allowed to leave for the village and never return—in exchange for their freedom from us."
Yunxi's eyes narrowed. "So we are no longer family to them? Now that we are in problems, they want to abandon us?"
"We must stop them, prove that we can survive this," Jihwan said, cupping his son's face.
But Yunxi only shook his head. "Let them go. The fewer, the better."
"But—"
"No." Yunxi cut him off firmly. "I, you, and Ajing are enough. Are they taking little Ann with them?"
His father nodded.
"I can—"
"No." Yunxi's voice was sharp. "I don't want her here. It's going to be dangerous."
This was no longer the sweet boy Jihwan remembered. This was the hardened, brave son the world had carved for him—and the minister loved him all the more for it. Yunxi bowed to his father, then turned to leave. Halfway to the door, he paused.
"Everything that can break us has already happened. If we can't make it disappear… then someone must take the fall for it." He turned back to face his father. "And we have plenty of goats escaping into the woods. They'll be eaten anyway."
The smile on his face was not one of joy, but of warning—a smile to remind his father that he could do far worse than he already had, and it would not trouble him in the least.
Jihwan felt a chill. His son was changing too much, too fast. He stepped forward and asked softly, "Are the rumors true? About you and the general's son? Are you… are you into men?" His worry was plain on his face.
Yunxi studied his father for a long moment, then answered calmly, "Pawns are no surprise when fighting a battle."
With that, he turned and walked away.