The journey from Wicheong Palace to the merchant company in Nahmgyo was a half-day's ride. Darkness fell quickly as they set out at dusk. Unso lit a torch, its flickering flame casting long shadows across the path. Ryang rode in silence, his mind preoccupied with the events of the day. Unso, sensing his somber mood, remained quiet. The weight of the news he had to deliver to Seon pressed heavily on Ryang's heart. It was a burden he hadn't felt in years.

Four years ago, it had been Ryang who had first stumbled upon the gruesome scene of his father's murder. Seon had been too young to comprehend such a tragedy, but Ryang, consumed by his own grief, had been unable to shield her from it. She had followed him into the room, her cries echoing through the chamber as she begged Ryang to bring their father back. He could still hear her voice, filled with anguish and despair. He had often wondered if Seon's perception of the world had been forever altered that day. What if he had been strong enough to protect her, to protect their father? Ryang, who constantly reminded Seong not to blame himself, couldn't escape his own guilt. The thought of delivering another devastating blow to Seon filled him with dread.

They arrived at the merchant company late at night. The company shared a roof with the inn they operated. The inn, bustling with laughter and drunken revelry, faced the main street, while the merchant company's offices were tucked away in the back, closer to the family's private quarters and the rear garden. Ryang, seeking to avoid the commotion, led Unso through the back entrance. Seon, dressed in a simple robe, greeted them at the door. Dara was nowhere to be seen.

"Welcome back," she said, her voice flat.

"It was hardly a journey," Ryang replied with a weak smile.

But Seon noticed the sadness etched on his face. "What happened at Wicheong Palace?" she asked.

Ryang sighed. Unso shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting between them. Seon's suspicions grew. Ryang placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Let's go inside," he said. "We can talk there."

Inside Seon's chambers, Ryang recounted the discovery of the Guardian Crimson and the grim events that followed. Seon listened in silence, her composure unsettling to Ryang. When Ryang had finished, Seon asked, "When will they return?"

"Once the bodies have been prepared at the Ministry, the Guardian will send them back," Ryang assured her. "It won't be long."

"I see."

Seon crossed her arms, taking a deep breath. Ryang studied her face, his anxiety growing. He struggled to find the right words, then finally asked, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Seon replied dismissively, changing the subject. "You should be worried about their families, not me. We're still leaving with the Lady tomorrow morning, right?"

"Of course. She wants us to travel together."

Seon looked away, clearly unwilling to continue the conversation. Ryang rose from his seat.

"You'll be exhausted after two days of travel. Get some rest," he said.

He touched her shoulder gently, then turned. As he was about to leave, Seon spoke.

"We need revenge."

"What?"

Ryang turned back to face her.

"They were our people," Seon insisted, her voice filled with a quiet rage. "They died because of us."

"Who do you want revenge on?"

"Anyone."

Ryang's lips tightened. He would normally have launched into a lecture, but today was different. He knelt before Seon, meeting her gaze.

"Seon," he began, "people die in wars. If you allow yourself to be consumed by grief and anger for every death, you won't be able to protect those who remain."

Seon asked. "Are we at war?"

"We will be soon," Ryang replied. "We need to prepare."

"And how do we do that?"

"Together." Ryang reached out and took Seon's hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "You understand what I'm saying?"

Seon looked at him, her eyes tracing the familiar lines of his face, a mirror image of her own. In this world, they were each other's only family, the last bearers of their name.

"I understand," she replied.

Though her response lacked conviction, Ryang forced a smile. He gently patted her head and left the room. Seon, alone once more, felt tears welling in her eyes. She covered her face with her hands, her body trembling with suppressed grief.

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Ryang's steps faltered as he noticed a faint light flickering from Dara's room. He recalled Unso's words about Dara's illness. Have I pushed her too hard lately? He told himself he was simply checking on her, nothing more. But he hesitated at the door, unable to bring himself to knock. The shadow within the room was still awake, but Ryang couldn't bring himself to disturb her. The memory of her kiss, the taste of her lips, lingered in his mind. He shook his head, trying to banish the desire that flared within him. With a deep breath, he knocked and entered the room.

Dara's face lit up with a smile as she saw Ryang at the door. She quickly rose to her feet.

"My Lord."

Ryang gestured for her to sit, his movements awkward. "Please, don’t."

He sat beside her on the bed. Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulder, framing her face. Dara, noticing his gaze, self-consciously tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"I didn't hear you come in," Dara apologized. "Unso told me you were here, but I thought you were still speaking with my lady..."

"There's no need to wake everyone at this hour."

"It's hardly quiet here, even late at night."

Ryang chuckled. "That's true."

Dara's face lit up again. "It's good to have you back."

"Just passing through, unfortunately." Despite his casual response, Ryang's eyes lingered on her face, taking in the dark circles under her eyes and the hollows of her cheeks.

"I heard you were ill," Ryang began.

"I'm feeling much better now," Dara replied. "But the lady insists I rest for a few more days."

"Seon?" Ryang echoed, surprised.

Dara nodded. "I heard about the deaths at Wicheong," she said.

"Unso told you?"

"Yes."

Ryang's expression turned somber. "Were they people you knew well?" he asked.

"Not well, but they were good people. I only remember their smiles."

Ryang fell silent, his gaze fixed on Dara's face. After a moment, he spoke again.

"I didn't want to tell you."

"Because of my father?"

Dara saw the answer in his silence. "I work for the merchant company," she said. "I know these things happen. It's not your fault. Perhaps the sea will return him to us one day. Don't blame yourself."

Ryang looked up, his eyes meeting hers. He struggled to find the right words, the words that would express his guilt and concern without making him sound foolish or weak.

"I've been worried about you," he finally admitted. "I thought something had happened when I didn't hear from you."

"You were worried?"

"Yes." Ryang's response was immediate, and he felt a blush creep up his neck. He quickly changed the subject.

"I've been feeling guilty about overworking you," he said, "and then I heard you were ill... Did I push you too hard?"

Dara smiled. "Working for the High Councilor isn't easy."

"I told you to tell me if it was too much," Ryang said. "I..."

"Can't you tell without me saying anything?" Dara interrupted.

Ryang faltered. "Should I assign someone to help you?" he blurted out.

"That's not what I want."

Dara gazed at Ryang. She leaned closer, and Ryang felt a familiar warmth spread through his chest, the memory of her sharp tongue a distant echo.

"Why have you come to see me so late?" she asked.

"I just," Ryang stammered.

Dara reached out, her fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw, pulling him closer. Ryang stiffened.

"Dara," he began.

But Dara silenced him with a kiss, her lips pressing against his, her tongue exploring his mouth with a boldness that surprised him. Ryang's senses ignited, his body responding to her touch. As Dara's hand reached for the ties of his robe, he caught her wrist.

"Don't," he murmured. "You'll regret this."

"I regret nothing," Dara whispered.

"I'm not sure."

"Then why are you hesitating?" Dara challenged, her fingers tracing the exposed skin of his neck.

Ryang was speechless. Dara's hand slipped beneath his robe. She untied the sash, and the robe and tops fell open, revealing his bare chest. Dara's lips found his skin, her kisses leaving a trail of fire. Ryang's body, tense with apprehension, gradually relaxed under her touch. He surrendered to the moment, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her close. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of her skin. Dara pushed him onto the bed, her body hovering over his as she shed her own clothes. She took him in, her movements urgent, her passion undeniable. Ryang met her with equal fervor, his hands gripping her waist, guiding her movements. Dara bit her lip, stifling a moan, and Ryang rolled them over, pinning her beneath him. Her eyes met his, filled with a desire that mirrored his own. He lost himself in the moment, his doubts and fears fading away as he poured his pent-up longing into her. He held her close, wondering if he would ever be this brave again.

Their limbs, entwined and exhausted, lay heavy on the bed. Dara, her head resting on Ryang's arm, spoke.

"You're leaving at dawn, aren't you?"

"Yes," Ryang murmured, his face buried in her hair.

Dara smiled, pleased by the weariness in his voice. "Should I come with you?" she asked.

Ryang shifted, lying beside her, his hands clasped behind his head. "No. Stay here and manage the company. You're the only one I can trust with that. I'll take Unso to Hyangdo."

"Alright."

Dara gazed at him. Ryang averted his eyes, his mind clearly elsewhere.

"What's troubling you?" she asked.

Ryang hesitated. "I'm not sure about tonight," he said.

His words, laced with self-reproach, stung Dara. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. After a long silence, she finally spoke, her voice laced with a quiet sadness.

"You're not very good with one's feelings, are you?"

"Am I not?" Ryang asked.

"Not really."

Ryang looked at her. He saw the hurt in her gaze, a reflection of his own guilt and cowardice. Instead of offering empty apologies or false promises, he pulled her close and kissed her, the warmth of her body chasing away the chill of his doubts.

Ryang lay awake most of the night. He left before dawn and prepared for the journey to Hyangdo. After the siblings and Unso departed, Dara slipped out of the house, her footsteps silent in the pre-dawn stillness.