"Perhaps the scholar is merely feigning ignorance!"
A voice rang out, slicing through the murmurs like a blade.
Minister Seo, a seasoned politician known for his sharp tongue and sharper ambition, stepped forward.
"For a man so intelligent, Scholar Dan-Bi seems oddly naive about the dangers that lurk around him."
Dan-Bi turned, expression unreadable, but inside, his pulse quickened.
"Naive?" he repeated, as if tasting the word.
Minister Seo smiled, slow and calculated.
"Or perhaps... he is not the victim, but the cause?"
The court stilled.
"What are you suggesting, Minister?" the Crown Prince's voice was deceptively light, but there was steel beneath it.
Minister Seo pressed forward.
"I am simply pointing out that danger follows this scholar wherever he goes. First, the sudden attack, now strange rumors... It is almost as if trouble is drawn to him. Or perhaps—he draws it himself?"
Gasps echoed through the hall.
Dan-Bi felt a cold weight settle in his stomach.
This was dangerous.
A well-placed accusation, even without proof, could plant seeds of doubt.
And if those seeds grew...
He could lose everything.
But before Dan-Bi could respond, the Crown Prince let out a laugh.
Not just any laugh—a careless, amused chuckle that immediately shifted the court's attention.
"Ah, Minister Seo, you disappoint me," the Prince sighed, shaking his head.
"For a moment, I thought you would have something of substance to say. But all I hear are tired old tricks."
Minister Seo's smile faltered.
"Your Highness—"
"—If being a victim of an attack makes one suspicious, then should we not all be investigated?" The Prince's tone was mocking. "After all, my own life has been threatened before. Perhaps you should suspect me next?"
Laughter rippled through the court, and Minister Seo's face darkened.
He had lost control of the conversation.
Dan-Bi exhaled quietly.
The Crown Prince had turned the tide.
But why?
Though the immediate threat had passed, Dan-Bi did not miss the flicker of irritation in the Queen's eyes.
She would not forget this.
"We shall leave this matter for now," she announced.
Dan-Bi lowered his gaze in a deep bow.
But as he rose, he caught the Prince's gaze locked onto him.
Something flickered there.
An unspoken message.
This wasn't over.
Later That Night,
The night air was cool, heavy with the scent of rain.
Dan-Bi stood by the lotus pond, arms crossed, replaying the day's events in his mind.
He had barely heard the approaching footsteps before a familiar voice cut through the silence.
"You owe me a thank you."
Dan-Bi turned sharply.
The Crown Prince stood there, watching him with an unreadable expression.
"For what?" Dan-Bi's voice was carefully neutral.
The Prince stepped closer.
"For saving your life back there."
"I had it handled."
"Did you?"
Dan-Bi frowned but said nothing.
The Prince took another step.
"You're reckless." His voice was quieter now. "You take too many risks. One day, you won't be able to talk your way out."
Dan-Bi looked away.
"Why do you care?"
Silence.
Then—
"I don't know."
The answer was too honest.
Too raw.
Dan-Bi's breath hitched when he felt the Prince's hand graze his wrist.
A fleeting touch. A hesitation.
He should move away.
But he didn't.
The Crown Prince's fingers curled slightly, as if testing the weight of the moment.
"You frustrate me." The words were almost a whisper. "I don't understand you."
Dan-Bi swallowed hard.
This was dangerous.
Too dangerous.
"Then stop trying." His voice was strained.
But the Prince didn't step back.
Instead, he lifted a hand—just enough to trace the edge of Dan-Bi's jaw.
A featherlight touch.
A mistake.
Dan-Bi should pull away.
Should stop this before it started.
But when the Prince leaned in, their breaths mingling, Dan-Bi felt his resolve crack.
For just a moment.
And in that moment—
Their lips met.
A fleeting touch.
Then—
Dan-Bi wrenched back, breathing heavily.
"This cannot happen." His voice was sharp, panicked.
The Prince's gaze searched his.
"Why?"
Dan-Bi clenched his fists.
"Because the world will not allow it."
The Prince took a shaky breath, stepping back at last.
But the look in his eyes said it all.
This wasn't over.
Not yet.