The Crown Prince's residence was quieter than usual.
Not peaceful.
Controlled.
Even the footsteps of attendants sounded measured, as though the air itself had begun to listen.
Poong-yeon stood near the inner doors, waiting until the last attendant withdrew before closing them fully.
Only then did he speak.
"Scholar Yoo-jae has departed, Your Highness."
Ji-ho did not look up from the documents before him.
The words settled strangely inside the room.
Departed.
Gone already.
His fingers tightened slightly around the brush resting between them before slowly loosening again.
Too fast.
Somewhere between the strategy, the accusations, and the exhaustion sitting beneath his ribs, he had forgotten.
No.
Not forgotten.
Delayed.
And now it no longer mattered.
Bella still did not know.
The warning.
The reassurance.
The promise that he would fix this before the palace could decide everything for them.
None of it had reached her.
And Yoo-jae had already passed beyond the gates.
"I presume you heard everything he said?"
Poong-yeon hesitated for a fraction too long.
"Yes your Highness."
That was answer enough.
Ji-ho lowered the brush onto the table.
Carefully.
Too carefully.
"So?"
A pause.
"What do you advise I do next?"
Poong-yeon stepped closer, lowering his voice instinctively, as though the walls themselves had begun serving the court.
"Move on to Plan D."
Silence followed.
Not empty.
Heavy.
The words sounded different this time.
Not like strategy.
Like surrender wearing the face of preparation.
Plan D had always existed as contingency.
The route taken only after cleaner paths failed.
Which meant neither of them needed to say aloud what had already become obvious.
The Prime Minister was tightening the board faster than they could move across it.
Ji-ho's gaze drifted toward the inkstone beside him.
Clean.
Unmarked.
Untouched.
Outside, wind brushed softly against the lattice windows.
For a moment, the pavilion almost felt suspended outside time.
Then Ji-ho finally spoke.
"Send word through the eastern channel."
Poong-yeon's eyes lifted slightly.
"To Kang Mu-yeol?"
Ji-ho nodded once.
"The trails are tightening. If they wait any longer, they will be sealed out entirely."
A pause.
Then—
"Tell them to proceed with Plan D."
Poong-yeon bowed immediately.
"At once."
Ji-ho leaned back slightly, though the motion looked more like exhaustion than comfort.
His gaze drifted beyond the pavilion.
Beyond the garden paths.
Beyond the distant walls hidden beneath morning haze.
Toward the southern wing.
Toward the place Bella remained confined by rules neither of them had chosen.
For the briefest moment, Poong-yeon thought Ji-ho might finally say her name.
Instead—
"And Yoo-jae."
Poong-yeon stopped.
Ji-ho's voice remained even.
Too even.
"I have another matter for him."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Ji-ho stared at nothing for a moment before continuing.
"A Bureau of Revenue officer."
Poong-yeon frowned slightly.
"Assigned to southern tax collection routes."
The wind shifted against the papers scattered across the table.
"Reports of irregularity have reached me."
"What kind of irregularity?"
Ji-ho's eyes finally lifted.
"Threefold taxation in poorer districts."
A beat.
"And bribery exchanged for reduced quotas."
Poong-yeon's expression darkened immediately.
Ji-ho continued quietly.
"Yoo-jae will investigate discreetly. No announcements. No disruptions."
"I will relay it."
Poong-yeon bowed once more, then hesitated.
"Anything else, Your Highness?"
Ji-ho did not answer immediately.
For a moment, something almost surfaced behind his eyes.
Not command.
Not politics.
Something far more dangerous.
Human exhaustion.
Loneliness.
Regret.
But the Crown Prince returned before the silence could betray him.
"No."
Poong-yeon bowed and left.
The doors slid shut behind him.
And the room immediately felt larger.
Colder.
Ji-ho remained seated long after the footsteps faded.
Motionless.
Only his eyes moved slightly toward the untouched cup of tea beside him.
Cold again.
For the fourth night in a row.
The royal order had arrived before sunset on the day of their return.
Until the Crown Princess selection concluded, the Crown Prince was to remain focused on ceremonial study and pre-coronation preparation.
Unnecessary visits were prohibited.
Outside contact restricted.
Even the foreign guard quarters had become sealed territory beneath the excuse of royal tradition.
Officially, it was preparation.
Unofficially.
Containment.
Ji-ho had accepted the order without resistance.
What else was there to do?
The palace did not argue with feelings.
Only appearances.
And appearances demanded obedience.
Outside, servants resumed their duties carefully.
Lanterns swayed softly beneath the evening breeze.
Somewhere far beyond the residence, court musicians practiced for ceremonies already decided.
Everything continued.
As though nothing irreversible had begun.
Bella's days became measured differently after that.
Not by sunlight.
Not by meals.
But by denial.
The first day, she waited.
The second, she asked.
By the third, even the servants had stopped meeting her eyes directly whenever she mentioned the Crown Prince.
"His Highness is occupied with royal preparations."
"The inner residence is restricted."
"The order came directly from the court."
Different words.
Same wall.
By the third day, the explanations no longer mattered.
Bella stood inside the training courtyard beneath the pale morning sky, sword raised shakily in her grip while sweat clung to the back of her neck.
Again.
The command echoed sharply across the courtyard.
She moved.
Too slow.
The wooden blade struck against hers hard enough to jar her arm painfully.
"Focus!"
Bella clenched her jaw immediately, repositioning herself before the next strike came.
Around her, the guards continued training normally.
Metal clashed.
Footsteps scraped against stone.
Someone laughed somewhere near the outer corridor.
The sound irritated her instantly.
How could the world continue sounding so normal?
Again.
Bella moved faster this time, blocking the strike before stumbling backward slightly.
Her body ached from exhaustion she refused to acknowledge.
She had barely eaten properly since returning.
Every meal became the same.
A few bites.
Then silence.
Then the unbearable awareness of another day passing without seeing him.
Without hearing anything.
Without knowing whether Ji-ho was enduring this as calmly as the palace pretended he was.
At night, sleep came in fragments.
His voice.
That look in his eyes before they separated.
The unfinished conversation still hanging between them.
And now only a day remained before the Crown Princess selection.
A day.
The realization sat inside her chest like something sharp.
"Again!" She repeated to the young guard.
Sh tightened her grip immediately and stepped forward before he could compose himself.
If she stopped moving, she would think.
And thinking had already begun destroying her.
Dawn arrived a day later with ceremonial stillness.
Not the soft quiet of morning.
But the deliberate silence that preceded declaration.
The bells rang across the inner courts.
Not for mourning.
Not for celebration.
For decree.
Servants stopped mid-step.
Courtiers gathered in ordered rows beneath polished halls.
The Hall of Ceremonies filled gradually until even breathing itself felt regulated by rank.
At the front, the Minister of Rites unrolled the imperial decree.
His voice carried evenly through the chamber.
"As commanded by His Majesty, and in accordance with the deliberation of the Inner Court…"
A pause.
No one moved.
"…the selection for the Crown Princess has been concluded."
Silence deepened.
Long enough for understanding to settle like dust across stone.
Then—
"From among the noble households, the daughter of the Left State Councillor has been chosen."
Another bow.
"May she uphold the dignity of the throne and ensure prosperity for the royal line."
The court answered in unison.
"May it be so."
The sound echoed beautifully.
Hollowly.
That afternoon, the announcement spread through the palace like perfume.
Elegant.
Impossible to escape.
Bella heard it first through whispers.
Then through lowered gazes.
Then through the sudden silence that followed whenever she entered a corridor.
The Crown Prince had been matched.
Officially.
Irrevocably.
Bella stood motionless near the edge of the training grounds as the realization settled fully inside her chest.
Around her, guards continued sparring.
Wood struck wood sharply.
A servant hurried past carrying folded silk.
Someone laughed again.
Bella almost hated them for it.
Four days.
Only four days.
And somehow the palace had already managed to place an ocean between them.
That same evening, Ji-ho stood alone inside the inner pavilion.
The decree had already circulated through every corridor.
It was no longer announcement.
Only reality.
Outside, servants resumed their duties carefully, pretending not to notice the shift that had settled over the residence like invisible ash.
Poong-yeon remained near the doorway silently.
Waiting.
Ji-ho's gaze remained fixed beyond the courtyard walls.
Toward the distant southern wing.
Toward the place he was no longer permitted to enter freely.
His voice came quieter this time.
Not princely.
Not composed.
Just tired.
"Four days."
Poong-yeon lowered his eyes.
Ji-ho gave a faint humorless smile.
"So little time."
The wind stirred softly through the pavilion.
Cold.
Quiet.
Almost cruel.
Ji-ho's expression did not change, but something beneath it finally sounded close to breaking.
"So this is how they intend to bury me."
Neither man spoke after that.
Because there was nothing left to say that the palace had not already decided for them.
Beyond the pavilion, lanterns glowed beautifully beneath the evening dark.
Courtiers moved through polished halls.
Servants carried silk, incense, and royal decree as though history itself remained untouched.
But somewhere beneath all that elegance, something irreversible had already begun to rot.