---
Days turned into a week.
Aiden—living as Ren—settled into the rhythms of camp life. Every morning, he rose before the soldiers. He scrubbed pots, polished swords, swept floors, and fed horses until his back threatened to snap. Every night, he collapsed into the stable hay, aching, blistered, but strangely content.
Because each day, he caught glimpses of Shinomi.
He watched the man lead drills with unflinching precision, his voice calm but powerful. He saw the way soldiers quieted when Shinomi walked by, the way even the rowdiest of them lowered their heads in respect. But Shinomi himself remained distant—never smiling, never laughing.
He moved like a blade: sharp, fast, and cold.
But once, just once, Aiden saw something crack.
It was late. The fire pits were dying out. Aiden had stayed behind in the main tent to finish cleaning up spilled wine. He thought he was alone until he heard the rustle of fabric.
Shinomi entered, alone, his usual armor replaced with a loose tunic and gloves. His long hair, still wet from bathing, dripped onto his shoulders. He didn't notice Aiden at first.
Then—he sat. At the center table. A map spread before him, riddled with marks.
And he just... stared.
His jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists. Aiden couldn't breathe.
This wasn't the cold commander the world feared.
This was a man drowning in ghosts.
"I should've burned the treaty the moment she asked for peace," Shinomi muttered to no one. "Should've seen it coming. The crown doesn't love. It just takes."
Aiden took a step forward without thinking. "You still loved her."
Shinomi's head snapped up. He froze when he saw Aiden standing there.
The room went still.
"You dare speak without permission?" Shinomi's voice was low, dangerous.
Aiden didn't flinch. "I didn't mean disrespect. Just… I read the treaty once. My father brought it home. It was beautiful. You wrote it, didn't you?"
Shinomi stared at him, eyes sharp.
"I thought nobles only cared about victory," he said after a pause.
"I'm not my father," Aiden said simply.
Another pause. Then Shinomi rose.
"Finish your task and leave," he said coldly. "Before I forget why I let you live."
He walked out without another word.
But Aiden stood there with a strange warmth in his chest.
Shinomi hadn't ordered him flogged. He hadn't shouted.
He had listened.
---
Later that night, Aiden sat under the stars, brushing out the horses. He whispered to the wind, "I'm going to change this story."
He didn't know how, or when, or what it would cost him.
But he would thaw the ice around Shinomi's heart—slowly, gently.
He would rewrite the ending.
Even if he had to tear the crown apart to do it.
--