DN30

Chapter 30 –

The Clue

“Just beyond here lies the place you spoke of.”

“Thank you, elder.”

Even after receiving thanks, the old man hesitated.

“Do you… have something to say?”

Sung-hyun noticed his unease. The old man suddenly dropped to his knees on the ground.

“Wh–what are you doing?”

“I have guided you here, but… can you not reconsider?”

The old man lifted his head and gazed at the rugged mountain range. The sheer cliffs and towering peaks were daunting—difficult even for healthy men to climb, let alone for the injured. And even if they managed to cross safely, that would not be the end.

“Beyond those mountains… no, all throughout Seolhwa, Hwangseon’s army is already stationed.”

If they were discovered by the patrols, disaster would strike immediately. Ordinary villagers would suffer, but Danho—royal blood of Seolhwa—would be executed on the spot.

That was why the old man could not bring himself to let these two walk into such peril. Danho was the last surviving royal, the hope of Seolhwa.

“If you are caught, you will surely die!”
“I know that well.”
“Then why…!”

Danho gripped the elder’s shoulders and helped him rise.

“Because my only sister is there. She may have been taken to that place.”
“Your sister… do you mean the Princess?”
“Yes.”

The elder knew of her by reputation. Though he had never seen her in person, word had spread of her beauty, brilliance, and kind heart. Even when war broke out, she had not hidden away in the palace. Instead, she had tended to the wounded in the infirmary, offering her care and comfort.

“Even so…”
“She gave her life for Seolhwa. Elder, are you telling me we should abandon such a soul?”
“…No. My thoughts were shallow.”
“Thank you.”

Danho brushed past the elder and stepped toward the steep mountains. Even if the man had barred his way, Danho would have pushed forward. Dansul was not just a princess of Seolhwa—she was his only family.

The two men crossed the mountains and hid behind a rocky outcrop, observing.

“There. That is where the Princess was last seen.”

Sung-hyun pointed. Danho nodded grimly. The infirmary where Dansuel had once been was long since seized by Hwangseon’s army. Now, the villagers there were forced into harsh labor under the watchful eyes of soldiers. A man stumbled while carrying stones and was lashed mercilessly by whips.

If Dansuel was still trapped there, she would surely be suffering. The thought made Danho’s blood boil.

“Tonight, we infiltrate.”
“…What?”

Sung-hyun gaped in shock. He had not expected Danho to move so quickly. With enemy soldiers swarming across the land, he assumed the prince would at least devise a plan before acting.

“We will find Dansuel and escape this place.”

Sung-hyun had expected reckless determination—but not this much.

“And we will also free the people of Seolhwa imprisoned here.”

The Crown Prince of Seolhwa, elder brother Danho, was even more daring—reckless—than he had imagined.

Gyŏnji sat slumped against the prison wall, staring at the small barred window above. Moonlight spilled through, pale and delicate, but her eyes were lifeless.

“Speak at once! Who is the hand behind your crime?”
“There is no crime. How could there be a hand behind it?”

Daily interrogations had left her body broken. Her garments were torn rags soaked with blood. Her lips cracked and bled with every word. Though she had endured until now, her strength was fading.

“Has Her Majesty… forgotten me?”

In her despair, the first person she thought of was Yi-Ihwa. At first, Gyŏnji had held firm, determined not to bring shame or trouble to her mistress. But as days passed without a single visit, resentment crept in.

What was I to her? Was my sacrifice meaningless? Will I simply die a dog’s death here?

Creak.

As she was drowning in such thoughts, the cell door opened.

“Gyŏnji.”
“…Your Majesty!”

Lowering her hood, Yi-Ihwa revealed her face. She had donned a dark cloak to conceal her royal robes.

She rushed forward and embraced Gyŏnji tightly.

“You’ve suffered greatly. Your face… it’s so worn.”
“Your Majesty…”

At her mistress’s warmth, Gyŏnji’s eyes brimmed with tears. She was ashamed that she had ever doubted such a kind mistress who cared even for a mere maid.

“I am fine. I worry more for Your Majesty.”
“The Emperor suspects me.”
“What?! How could he…!”

Hearing that Yi-hwa’s chambers had been ransacked and that she was under constant questioning, Gyŏnji trembled with rage, forgetting her own pain. Yi-Ihwa, however, only smiled faintly.

“That is why… I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything, my lady. Say the word.”

Yi-Ihwa leaned close and whispered into her ear. As the words sank in, Gyŏnji’s face turned pale.

“Well? Can you do it?”
“M-my lady… I…”

Yi-Ihwa gripped her maid’s trembling shoulders firmly.

“You can do it. No—you must. It is the only way you can repay my kindness.”

Dansuel gazed up at the night sky. Unlike the clear skies of the night before, clouds now thickened, and a blood-red ring surrounded the moon. In Seolhwa, such a crimson moon was considered an ominous sign.

A soul unjustly slain… they say the moon reddens with its blood.

She shivered.

It’s just superstition… but why does my heart feel so uneasy tonight?

Dansuel sighed deeply. Over a week had passed since she was confined within Geonil Palace. Just as Gyeom had said, it was luxurious and safe—but suffocating. Her injured ankle had healed enough for her to walk freely, yet Gyeom forbade her from stepping outside.

If not for Taeyeom secretly helping her sneak some air while Gyeom trained in swordplay, she would still be locked in that prison of gilded walls.

Footsteps approached. Alarmed, she quickly hid. If she were caught wandering, she would be dragged back at once.

“Here is good enough.”

The voice was unmistakable—Emperor Yi-gyeom. He was clad not in his usual regalia but in training garb, his hair bound back, a sword at his side.

“Tell me, why come at such an hour?”

Another man stepped forward, lowering his voice.

“News from Seolhwa, Your Majesty.”

Yi-gyeom’s expression hardened as he read the letter handed to him.

“Rebellion has been sighted in Seolhwa’s territory…”

His eyes narrowed.

“Why report this in secret, instead of formally?”
“It was the Grand General’s order—that His Majesty must not know.”

Yi-gyeom’s gaze turned sharp.

“So… he hides something still.”

From the beginning, Yi-gyeom had doubted General Cheon Tae-su’s intentions. For the commander of the empire’s mightiest armies to personally lead the campaign against a small border kingdom had seemed suspicious.

But what chilled him more was the detail in the report:

“Only two rebels?”

Apparently, the ones who had torched the grain stores and wrecked Hwangseon’s garrison numbered merely two.

“They must have been formidable. One in particular wielded a sword engraved with plum blossoms…”

Dansuel froze. A sword with plum blossom engravings—

Her memory flashed:

“Even if it’s a gift from your sister, must you really…?”
“What’s wrong with a plum blossom pattern?”
“A sword is a weapon of death. To carve such beauty upon it is a waste. Besides, the plum blossom is your birth flower.”
“A sword can take life, but it can also save it. I believe you will one day use this blade to save countless lives.”

Tears welled as that long-faded memory returned.

“That man… is Seolhwa’s Crown Prince.”

Hearing Danho’s name, Dansuel covered her mouth and collapsed to the ground, her body trembling.

“I heard the Crown Prince was slain by the General’s hand.”
“He fell into the ravine during their duel. But… his body was never recovered.”
“So the General concealed the truth from me.”

If it had been any common rebel, Yi-gyeom would not have cared. But if that man was the heir of a fallen kingdom, the matter was grave indeed. Yet Cheon Tae-su had deliberately withheld it.