The shrine was silent, lit only by the soft glow of moonlight filtering through carved wooden
panels. The incense had long burned out, leaving behind the faintest trace of smoke, like
lingering sorrow.
Seorin knelt before the altar, her shoulders trembling. She had managed to keep her smile
before Younghae, even lied that she was not feeling well. But now—away from the palace
eyes—her fragile composure cracked.
Her tears fell, heavy and relentless, splashing against her hands as she whispered to
herself:
"Why her? Why not me? After all these years… why wasn't I enough?.... When will I be good enough for him, for him to see only me ?"
The door creaked open. Slow, steady footsteps entered, and Seorin didn't have to look up to
know who it was.
"Seorin," came the gentle, firm voice of her elder sister. Lady Hanuel.
Seorin tried to wipe her face, to hide her weakness, but Hanuel was already kneeling beside her. She placed a hand on her sister's trembling shoulders and, without a word, pulled her into her embrace.
"Cry," Hanuel whispered. "Do not hold it back. Let it all out. Let it all flow away, cry out everything. You don't have to bottled it all up."
Seorin's restraint shattered. She collapsed against her sister's chest, sobbing like the child
she once was, like the young girl who had first learned what it meant to love and what it meant to lose.
"I love him, unnie," she choked, clutching Hanuel's robes. "But he chose her. He didn't even hesitate. Was I just a shadow all along?"
Hanuel's eyes glistened, though she refused to let her voice waver. She stroked her sister's
hair gently, soothing her with the patience only an elder could offer.
"You are not a shadow, he probably doesn't feel that way. Even if he does, the Kingdom won't let you two be together." Hanuel said firmly. "You are Seorin, the fire that protects this kingdom. But sometimes… even fire cannot claim what the stars have written for another."
Seorin's sobs quieted, though the ache in her chest only deepened.
"How do I forget him, unnie? When every glance, every laugh, every memory burns inside me?"
Hanuel closed her eyes, pain twisting her own heart. It broke her to see her little sister suffer
this way. But she had to be strong.. for both of them.
"You will forget," she whispered. "Not today, not tomorrow. But one day, you will rise from this pain stronger than before. Until then… I will stand by you."
Seorin clung to her elder sister, her tears soaking into Hanuel's robes, while Hanuel silently prayed that her sister's heart would find peace, even if it meant burying her love forever.
The palace buzzed with excitement. Silken banners of crimson and gold fluttered high above the courtyards, musicians tuned their instruments, and attendants scurried about preparing for the royal wedding that would bind Crown Prince Kim Younghae and Lady Saha.
For the ministers and nobles, it was a day of triumph—an alliance that brought stability to the court and relief to the aging king. But for some hearts within the palace walls, it was a day painted with hidden sorrow.
Lady Saha sat quietly in her chambers, dressed in an elaborate wedding gown of scarlet silk embroidered with golden phoenixes. Her hair was adorned with delicate pins and jewels, yet her face held a calm resolve rather than joy.
Her father, the Minister of State, stood before her, wringing his hands nervously.
"My daughter… once you enter that hall, your life will no longer be your own. Are you
prepared for this?"
Saha smiled softly, though her eyes flickered with the weight of what was to come.
"Father, do not worry. I will be fine. His Highness has promised me freedom once he
becomes king. I will endure until then."
The Minister searched her face, troubled by her composure, but finally nodded. "You have
always been strong-willed. I pray the heavens watch over you."
The wedding hall shone like the heart of the sun. Courtiers and officials filled the chamber,
whispering in awe as the Crown Prince appeared in his ceremonial robes, every step
measured and dignified.
Beside him, Lady Saha walked gracefully, her steps light yet steady, as though she had been
born to wear the crown. The people gasped at her beauty, and the air filled with praises.
The priests recited their blessings, and the vows were exchanged beneath the kingdom's
ancestral banners. Applause thundered as Lady Saha became the Crown Princess of
Joseon.
But not everyone was there.
In her chambers, Lady Seorin lay upon her bedding, pale and silent. When attendants came knocking to escort her to the ceremony, she pressed a hand to her forehead.
"Forgive me," she said softly, "I am unwell today. I cannot attend."
The truth burned inside her like fire, but she refused to let anyone see it. Watching the man
she loved wed another woman… she would rather suffer the pain alone than stand beneath
that hall of celebration.
Her sister, Lady Hanuel, had attended in her place. She blessed the union as tradition
required, placing her hand upon the sacred scrolls with a serene smile. Yet as she gazed
upon the union, her eyes flickered with unease.
For just a moment, she saw a shadow fall across the ceremonial fire. The flames bent
unnaturally, their light dimming as if choked by some unseen force.
An omen. A terrible and disturbing omen.
Hanuel's heart trembled, but the vision faded as quickly as it came. No one else seemed to
notice, and she forced herself to dismiss it. Perhaps it was only her imagination.
Still, as the hall erupted with joy and laughter, Lady Hanuel whispered a silent prayer.
"May the Heavens be merciful..... For I fear this union is not what it seems.