The golden sun had risen, but to Seo Yul, the sky still felt dim.
The grand court had dispersed, and now he followed quietly behind unfamiliar footsteps. Two guards led him across wide stone corridors, through open courtyards and arched hallways lined with painted screens and carved dragons.
The Goryeon Palace was unlike his home too vast, too silent, too cold. He kept his eyes low, afraid to meet anyone's gaze.
Every servant who passed paused, bowed to the guards, and stared at him with veiled curiosity. Some whispered. Some frowned. No one smiled.
"This way," one of the guards finally said.
Seo Yul didn't reply. He stepped into the room they opened for him a small but elegant chamber in the eastern wing, far from the royal halls. The floor was polished wood, the bedding fresh. A screen covered the window, letting soft light in.
It was… quiet.
And emptier than he expected.
"You'll stay here," said the other guard. "Food will be brought. You may not leave this wing without permission."
They left without waiting for questions not that he would have asked any.
He sat by the window for hours.
Once, a young court maid came in with tea and fruit. She bowed and said softly:
"I'm Yeonhee, I'll be serving you."
He didn't respond. He didn't even look at her.
She seemed kind, but he couldn't find the strength to speak.
The silence around him felt like another kind of prison.
That evening, from behind a silk curtain, he saw a young man laughing in the garden below a prince, clearly, dressed in royal blue. He looked only a few years older than Seo Yul. His laughter was bright, his movements free.
Beside him trailed a shorter boy who looked even younger wide-eyed and soft-spoken, holding a box of sweets and occasionally sneaking one into his mouth when the older boy wasn't looking.
Seo Yul watched them until they disappeared down the path. He didn't know who they were. But something about them… didn't feel threatening.
Still, he said nothing.
Not a word.
That night, he lay awake beneath unfamiliar silk sheets.
He thought of his father's final moments.
His mother's absence.
The echo of steel, and blood on cold floors.
He should have died there, too.
He didn't know why he hadn't.
But now… he was in a palace of strangers, in the land of his enemy, beneath the roof of the man who destroyed his home.
And he didn't know what he was supposed to be anymore.