A gray dawn rises over the estate. Yi adjusts his armor, his voice brief:
— "I must inspect the survivors. The estate is yours."
He walks away, straight-backed, leaving behind a frozen silence.
In the garden, his wife stands motionless. Their son, playing with his nurse, has no idea of the storm tightening within her chest. Her hands clutch at her robe.
— "Even his victories steal everything from me."
A servant approaches, hesitant:
— "The new concubine has been settled in her quarters."
The wife's face hardens. She strides through the dark corridor, her steps quick, and throws the door open.
The young concubine, with foreign features, sits before a mirror, her hair falling over her shoulders. She lifts her head. Their eyes meet.
— "You are not a gift. You are a humiliation."
The concubine sets down her comb slowly. Her gaze glints with cold pride.
— "If I am here, it is because the king willed it. And if he wills it, the general will yield. I will not remain a shadow."
The wife's hands tighten, ready to strike back with words. But her lips tremble; her voice shifts.
— "I could hate you… but I do not know how to hate."
Silence fills the room. The concubine looks away, disturbed despite herself.
The wife continues, her tone lower now:
— "You are not my enemy. It is the throne that crushes us both."
Without waiting for an answer, she turns away. A single tear slides down her cheek as she leaves the room — upright, yet broken.
The concubine remains alone. Her eyes darken, caught between shame and determination.