A few days had passed since the grand prince's recovery, but the palace still simmered with tension.
The king's uncle had been scheming relentlessly, weaving his web of evil, waiting for the perfect day.
That day had finally arrived—the Queen Dowager's birthday.
The grand hall sparkled with lanterns, golden silk, and flowers. Courtiers, ministers, and nobles had assembled to celebrate her. The queen's heart swelled with joy, completely unaware of the storm about to descend.
The king and Suho stepped forward, faces hidden behind elegant masks. To the rhythm of the drums, they began the ceremonial dance. Each movement was precise, graceful, and filled with subtle strength.
The Queen Dowager's eyes glistened with tears as she watched. Her joy was pure, untainted, completely believing this day to be one of happiness.
When the performance ended, the two removed their masks. Tears filled her eyes anew. A moment of perfection.
Then—
The palace gates burst open.
Strange figures entered, moving quickly, silently, with an authority that stole the breath of everyone present. The king froze, Suho's hand tensed instinctively on his sword. The elders whispered anxiously. The Queen Dowager's heart skipped a beat.
It was him—the man who knew the truth.
The king's voice cut through the stunned silence.
"What do you want?"
The man's eyes gleamed as he held up an ancient, leather-bound book.
"My king… in my hands lies the Book of Truth."
The king's uncle stood to one side, a wicked smile curling on his lips. His plan had worked perfectly—he had added false lies to the book, carefully designed to enrage the king, to provoke him into killing the Queen Dowager.
Beside the strange man stood a woman—the late queen mother, alive in the flesh, her mind sharp yet haunted by the trauma of her daughter's death. Her eyes burned with a mixture of grief and fury.
The king took the book and began to read.
Minsoo's heart raced. She had lived through this life before; she knew exactly what was coming. She reached out to him, but he was already consumed by anger, by betrayal, by the sins of the past.
He lifted a sword, his steps deliberate as he approached the Queen Dowager. Tears streaked his face, but his grip on the blade was firm.
Minsoo ran to intercept him.
"Your Majesty… this is not what her mother wanted! He is your son, too! Don't let her death turn you into a killer!"
The queen mother's voice rang out, quivering yet resolute.
"My daughter… she wanted her son to be a generous king. One with no blood on his hands. I died to take away the sins from him. She would never want to see this happen!"
The king froze mid-step. The words struck through the anger, the pain, and the rage that had consumed him.
Time seemed to halt in the grand hall.
The king's uncle's smile faltered. Shock and disbelief twisted his features. He had expected madness, chaos, or silence—not reason, not compassion.
The elders stepped forward, pleading, voices trembling.
"Your Majesty! Have mercy!"
"Please, Your Majesty! Think of your son!"
The Queen Dowager sat trembling, tears streaming down her face, silently begging him to stop.
Minsoo, still standing before him, gently but firmly took the sword from his hand. Her own tears fell freely.
The king finally lowered the blade, his chest heaving. Suho quickly guided him away, back to his chambers, while whispers of relief echoed through the hall.
The plan had failed—again.
And anger, dark and unrelenting, grew within the king's uncle.
This time, his schemes would be deadlier.
The palace remained tense. Even in the aftermath of near tragedy, one truth was clear: the war of shadows had only just begun.