The snowstorm had grown stronger that night — as if the heavens themselves mourned.
But inside the palace, there was no warmth, no comfort. Only silence… and the faint sound of a child's uneven breath.
Taehyung stumbled back to his chambers, the echo of his father's words still seared into his
heart. Each step felt heavier, his vision trembling as the world blurred between flame and frost.
The moment the door closed behind him, his control broke.
His body ignited.
The curtains burned, the floor cracked under the surge of heat, and the room filled with the
golden-red glow of a boy's rage.
For years, his flames had been tamed by Aera's frost — but this time, heartbreak and
betrayal unleashed the inferno that lived inside him. His screams were soundless, lost in the roar of his own fire.
Pain twisted through his veins, the very thing that made him powerful now tearing him apart
from within.
And then… she appeared.
Aera stood at the door, her small frame barely outlined by the blaze.
Her face remained calm — emotionless — but her eyes, faintly glowing blue, softened for a
heartbeat.
Without a word, she stepped into the fire.
The heat bent around her like a living thing, afraid to touch its opposite.
She placed her small hands over his chest, and the flames dimmed, the air cooling into mist. The frost spread through his veins, soothing, calming, but leaving behind a sharp emptiness.
When it was done, Aera drew back.
She stared at him for a long moment — at the trembling boy whose tears evaporated before
they could fall — then turned and left.
The door closed behind her.
Silence returned.
Taehyung sat on the floor, the remains of his fire still glowing faintly under his skin.
His heart ached, but there was no tears left in his eyes. Then he wondered to himself,
"Maybe I really shouldn't have been born, I wonder why mother tried so hard to make sure I come to this world when she won't be there to protect me?, why did she had to leave me in a world without her, her protection?"
He looked toward the window, where the moonlight broke through the smoke and whispered to himself,
"I won't cry again."
His voice was steady, cold — too cold for a child.
"Not for him. Not for anyone who doesn't deserve it."
And that night, the boy who once sought love learned to seal his heart in ice and ashes…
The royal court gathered beneath the golden banners of dawn, their faces gleaming in the
morning light — yet the air was anything but bright.
Rumors had spread like wildfire for days, but no one expected the council to speak so boldly
today.
Minister Song, the eldest among them, bowed deeply before the king and queen.
"Your Majesty," he began, his voice steady but commanding, "the heavens have shown
mercy upon the royal house. Lady Aera's presence in the palace is no mere coincidence.
Her divine ice restrains Prince Taehyung's flames — proof enough that he is favored by
fate."
A low murmur rippled through the hall.
Song continued, unshaken.
"With respect, Your Majesty, this cannot be ignored. For the stability of the kingdom, the
prince must be named Crown Prince."
The queen's fan froze mid-air.
Her gaze snapped toward the ministers — and to her shock, not one of them met her eyes in
hesitation.
Even her own kin, — the ministers of her noble house, — nodded in agreement.
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. "You… agree?" she demanded, her voice trembling
between disbelief and fury.
"After all I have done for this court, for this family — you would side with him? With a cursed child???"
Minister Hwan, her uncle, could not look at her directly.
"Your Majesty," he said softly, "we act only for the kingdom's sake. The boy's power is no
longer a curse if the deity remains by his side. The heavens have spoken."
The queen took a step back, her eyes wide. Betrayal cut deeper than any blade.
Her own family — the family that raised her to the throne — had turned against her.
The king finally spoke, his voice heavy with restrainted anger.
Enough," he said, rising from his throne. "I will not have my son bound to destiny like a
puppet of prophecy. He is but a child. His heart is already burdened with more than he
should bear."
But the ministers did not yield.
Minister Song bowed once more.
"Your Majesty, we do not question your wisdom. Yet the divine will cannot be defied. Unless Prince Taehyung himself renounces the throne when he comes of age, he shall be crown prince."
A heavy silence filled the room.
The sound of the queen's fan dropping to the marble floor echoed like a final verdict.
Her voice cracked as she whispered, "Even my blood has betrayed me…"
Her eyes turned toward her husband, but even the king's defense could not undo what had
been declared.
The decree was sealed.
The ministers knelt as one, their unified voices shaking the hall:
"Long live the future Crown Prince, Taehyung of the Crimson Flame."
And as the sound rolled through the court like thunder, the queen stood frozen — unable to
decide which hurt more: that the ministers turned against her, or that destiny had chosen that child over her own.
Far from the court's chaos, in a quiet corner of the palace, Prince Yul listened as servants
whispered the news.
A small smile played upon his lips, his tone calm, almost relieved.
"Then it's decided," he murmured. "He can have the palace. I'll take my freedom."
But somewhere in the palace depths, the flames flickered — restless, violent, and bound to a fate only Taehyung himself could change.