The State Council chamber lay steeped in silence, broken only by the soft scratch of ink on parchment and the occasional, restrained cough. Heavy wooden beams groaned faintly overhead, bearing the weight of decades past. Outside, the wind threaded its way through the palace corridors, whispering of a prince who had yet to return.
The councilors sat gathered around the long, polished table, their faces drawn tight with unease. At its head, the Left State Councilor drummed his fingers against the wood, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room before settling.
"The Crown Prince has been absent for a month," he said, his voice low but unwavering. "No confirmed sighting. Yet I have received word from a trusted agent that the Prime Minister, and perhaps even the Queen, may have had a hand in… complicating his return."
A ripple of murmurs stirred the chamber. The councilor's expression hardened.
"It is our duty to secure his safe return," he continued. "We will mobilize guards, our finest men, to locate him and bring him back. The Crown Princess's marriage cannot be postponed due to… inaction."
One by one, heads inclined in agreement. The weight of consensus settled heavily across the table.
"We understand, Councilor," one replied. "We will proceed as instructed."
In the Queen Dowager's chambers, incense curled through the air in pale ribbons. A messenger burst through the heavy wooden doors and dropped into a deep bow, breathless.
"Your Majesty," he gasped, "Poong Yeon and the Crown Prince were last seen near the village of Suwon. It lies a day's journey from the capital."
The Queen Dowager's eyes narrowed. "Have they returned?"
"No, Your Majesty. They are… missing. The forests there are vast. No trace has been found."
"Then gather all assistance," she commanded, her voice sharp as tempered steel. "Send riders, soldiers, anyone capable. The Crown Prince will not be left in peril."
The messenger bowed again and vanished, leaving her standing alone, gaze fixed on the distant mountains beyond the palace walls.
Back within the palace, the King and the Prime Minister sat opposite one another, an old board game laid between them. Wooden pieces clicked softly as the sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the courtyard.
"And if he does not return?" the Prime Minister asked lightly, though his eyes betrayed careful calculation. "Who, then, ascends the throne?"
The King's hand paused above the board. Slowly, he looked up.
"What counsel is this?" he asked calmly.
"It is the people's concern," the Prime Minister replied smoothly. "The Crown Prince has been missing for a month. Without his return, instability grows. Perhaps even death."
"No," the King said, placing his piece with deliberate precision. "My son lives. He will return. I am certain of it."
The Prime Minister inclined his head, revealing nothing, as the game continued, a quiet battle of strategy beneath polite silence.
Night settled over the hidden cave, draping shadows across the pale cherry blossom tree and the still pond beneath it. Bella knelt beside a modest fire, feeding it twigs and broken branches she had risked retrieving deeper within the cavern.
Sparks leapt into the damp air, smoke curling upward as the flames took hold.
Ji-ho approached carefully, favoring his healing leg. The firelight bathed their faces in gold, illuminating streaks of dirt and dried blood that marked their ordeal.
"Alright," Bella said, brushing her hair back and rolling her shoulders. "Time to practice."
Ji-ho lifted an eyebrow, tightening his grip on the wooden practice sword. "Practice? With… sticks?"
She grinned. "Stick or steel, makes no difference. Come on."
The next hour passed in rhythmic motion, the dull thock of wood against wood echoing off stone walls. Laughter slipped between clashes, though neither spared the other. Bella lunged forward, sweeping his legs, and Ji-ho stumbled.
She caught him instinctively, hands rising to steady him, and in that movement, their lips brushed.
They froze.
"Ah-" Bella whispered, stepping back.
Ji-ho blinked, his face warming. "It's… fine. Really."
The fire flickered between them. Ji-ho glanced upward, studying the shadowed ceiling. "It's going to rain," he said softly.
"How can you tell?" Bella asked.
"My mother taught me," he replied, a quiet pride in his voice. "The stars. The wind. Everything speaks, if you listen."
She nodded, impressed.
Rain soon followed, first a gentle patter, then a steady drum against the cave's entrance. They retreated behind a large stone outcrop as mist curled through the air.
Ji-ho shivered. "What if no one finds us?" he asked, his voice stripped of princely composure. "What if we die here?"
Bella turned to him, resting a firm hand on his shoulder. "Don't think that way. Yeon is searching. He won't stop."
"But what if-"
She had no answer. The question lingered, heavy and unspoken.
As the rain poured, firelight reflected in their eyes. Court intrigue, betrayal, and power faded away until only the two of them remained, soldier and prince, bound by survival and something quieter, deeper.
When the rain finally eased, the cave dripped softly, the world beyond veiled in mist. Their clothes clung to them, soaked through, and Bella shuddered as cold crept into her bones. Ji-ho's teeth chattered beside her.
"This won't end well if we stay like this," she muttered.
Ji-ho met her gaze, anxious. "We'll freeze if we don't find a way to dry up"
"There's a way," she said, choosing her words carefully. "We lie close. Skin to skin. It preserves warmth."
He stiffened, color flooding his cheeks. "I…excuse me?"
"I'm serious," Bella said calmly. "We don't have blankets. No fire strong enough. This is survival."
He hesitated, torn between propriety and necessity.
"Just warmth," she added gently. "Do you trust me?"
After a moment, he nodded. "I do."
They shed their wet outer garments, keeping what modest layers they could. Bella spread Ji-ho's long coat across the stone floor and lay down. He followed, tentative, until she reached for him.
"Closer. It only works if we are closer."
He obeyed, his chest resting lightly against hers. Slowly, the shivering eased as warmth spread between them.
"It… works," he murmured.
She smiled faintly. But the closeness carried more than heat, the brush of fingers, shared breaths, hearts beating in tandem.
Ji-ho felt her pulse beneath his palm, her scent mingling with smoke and rain. Without thinking, his fingers traced lightly along her arm.
"Ji-ho," she whispered, not in warning, but awareness.
"I didn't mean-" His words faltered as their eyes locked.
"It's alright," she said softly, brushing damp hair from his brow. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.
He froze, then melted into the moment. When she pulled back, his gaze held wonder.
"Just… warmth," she said quietly.
The air between them hummed.
She rose slightly, searching his face. "Tell me," she asked softly, "will you regret it if I continue?"
He swallowed. "I might… if you don't."
Ji-ho did not hesitate.
He kissed her back with a hunger that startled even himself, months of restraint and fear dissolving beneath the press of her mouth. His hand slid from her neck to her waist, fingers curling into the fabric of her clothes, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.
The cave seemed to breathe with them, heat rising, firelight flickering against stone, shadows stretching and folding as if the walls themselves were watching.
Bella's breath caught softly against his lips when he deepened the kiss. He tasted rain and smoke and something unmistakably her. His other hand traced upward, tentative at first, then surer, slipping beneath the edge of her garment. The warmth of her skin beneath his fingers sent a sharp, dizzying rush through him.
"Ji-ho…" she murmured, her voice low, unsteady.
He answered not with words, but with his mouth, trailing from her lips to her jaw, to the sensitive curve beneath her ear. She shivered, her fingers gripping his sleeve, anchoring herself as his kiss moved lower, unhurried, reverent, devastating.
The air grew thick. His thoughts blurred, his pulse roaring in his ears. There was no palace, no crown, no danger, only her, the heat of her body beneath his hands, the quiet urgency of the moment drawing him forward.
He shifted, pressing her gently back against the stone, his forehead resting against hers as he struggled for breath. His hand slid further, his touch growing bolder, closer to a line he had never crossed.
"Ha-Neil. Bella," he breathed.
The fire crackled.
The world tilted…
…and suddenly, light.
Ji-ho gasped and jolted awake.
His heart was pounding violently, breath sharp and uneven as he stared up at the rough stone ceiling of the cave. The fire had burned low, embers glowing softly in the dark. Cold air brushed his skin.
For a moment, he didn't move. Didn't dare.
Slowly, he turned his head.
Bella lay beside him, fully clothed, her back turned slightly toward him. Her hair was loose, her expression peaceful, lips parted in sleep. One arm rested between them, not touching, not entwined, real, solid, unmistakably distant.
No heat.
No fire between their bodies.
No hands beneath fabric.
Just the quiet drip of water from stone and the steady rise and fall of her breathing.
Ji-ho swallowed, his chest still tight, his skin still burning with the memory of a touch that had never happened.
He closed his eyes briefly, shame and longing twisting together in his chest.
It was only a dream.
Outside, the storm had passed.
Inside, the ache remained.