CHAPTER 78
Eyes full of fear. Confusion. Judgment.
Sihyun swallowed hard, backing away just slightly, as if trying to distance himself from the chaos he caused.
He hadn't meant to—
He wasn't supposed to—
Why did it feel so real…?
A thick silence hung in the air as the echoes of shattered porcelain and tipped wine faded into the corners of the grand hall. All eyes remained locked on Sihyun, whose chest heaved beneath his robe, the remnants of magic still tingling faintly around his trembling fingertips.
He glanced toward the king
His lips parted.
"I—I'm sorry,"
he stammered, his voice barely rising above the stunned hush in the hall.
"Your Majesty, I didn't mean to—"
He turned toward the nobles, to the guests watching him like he was some kind of dangerous spectacle.
"Everyone, I—I meant no harm,"
he said, bowing his head slightly. His voice cracked.
"It wasn't—"
But the stares. The tension. The fear. They wrapped around him like chains.
Sihyun's fingers clenched tightly into his robe as guilt and dread churned in his stomach.
What have I done?
Unable to bear it, he turned on his heel and fled—his steps uneven, frantic—as he ran from the hall.
The sound of his footsteps echoed sharply behind him before fading completely.
For a moment, no one moved. Even the music had stopped.
Yuhyun, still standing near the toppled table, whispered his brother's name under his breath.
"Sihyun…"
He took a step forward, intending to follow—but a firm hand caught his arm.
It was Muwon.
"I'll go,"
the prince said gently, but firmly. His expression was unreadable, but his voice held a quiet urgency.
"Let me be the one to find him."
Yuhyun stared at him for a moment, conflicted—then slowly nodded.
Muwon turned to face the crowd, his princely calm settling over the room like a warm cloak.
"Please,"
he said clearly, addressing the confused murmurs and shifting guests,
"let's not allow one moment to ruin the entire night. The feast was meant to honor someone very important to me. Let us continue it in his name."
Some nobles looked uncertain, but others began to slowly sit back down. The servants hesitantly moved to clean up the wreckage. The musicians, unsure, quietly picked their instruments back up, trying to fill the heavy silence with the soft return of melody.
The king hadn't moved or said anything.
Muwon cast one last glance at the mess Sihyun had left behind, then turned and strode toward the exit, his heart pulling him in one direction only—toward Sihyun.
The garden was quiet—eerily so.
Bathed in moonlight and speckled with soft golden lanterns, the place seemed untouched by the chaos of the feast. Flowers rustled in the breeze, whispering secrets into the night. But Sihyun sat on the cold stone bench, unmoving, lost in thought.
His hands were still trembling slightly, hidden in the folds of his robe. His mind replayed the moment again and again—the flash of magic, the crash, the silence, the stares.
Why did I react like that? It wasn't real. I should have known…
His eyes stung, but he blinked away the heat.
Then he felt it.
A presence.
He jerked up from the bench, his eyes snapping toward the shadowed path between the hedges. Out of the dim glow, a figure slowly approached.
There she was.
The same woman who had once broken through palace barriers to free Vanyul from sorcerer's chains. The shapeshifter he remembered by face, by presence. Back then, her eyes had glowed with wild defiance, fueled by unwavering loyalty to Vanyul. Now, they were tired. Dimmed. And something about her expression struck him — not aggression, but... sorrow?
Sihyun instinctively scanned the area. No guards. No eyes watching. Still, his voice dropped low, cautious.
"How did you get in?"
he asked, stepping back a little.
"What are you doing here?"
The woman didn't move closer. Her hands stayed visible, open, a gesture of peace.
"I'm sorry for sneaking up on you,"
she said, voice gentle — so different from how he remembered it.
"I've been watching from afar... ever since you took him down."
Sihyun's brows pulled together. Took him down — those words echoed strangely.
Sihyun's expression tightened.
"Then you must want revenge."
"I just…"
She paused, searching his face.
"I wanted to thank you. One last time."
Sihyun's heart thudded.
"Thank me? You—you were his most trusted. He treated you like family. You helped him escape.
Why—"
"I know,"
she cut in softly.
"I was there through it all. I believed in him... right until I saw who he truly became. What he was willing to do. I stayed quiet longer than I should have. I'm not proud of that."
Sihyun stared at her, stunned. His guard didn't lower, but the anger behind it wavered.
"Why now?"
"Because this is goodbye. I needed you to know... that not everyone who followed him still believes in what he stood for. And that you did the right thing."
She smiled faintly, bittersweet.
"He needed to be stopped. And you were the only one who could."
The garden was quiet again. The words hung between them like falling petals. And for the first time since the feast began, Sihyun didn't feel haunted — just... heavy. Tired. Seen.
Sihyun heard his name echo softly through the garden — Muwon's voice, laced with concern. He turned his head instinctively.
By the time he looked back to where the woman had stood, the spot was empty.
Gone. Like a shadow in mist.
He let out a shaky sigh, not sure what to make of the encounter. But he didn't have time to dwell on it — footsteps approached, and Muwon emerged from the hedges, a little breathless but visibly relieved to find him.
"There you are,"
Muwon said, slowing as he neared.
"Are you okay?"
Sihyun dropped his gaze, unsure what to say. His throat tightened with shame, but instead of speaking, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Muwon in a quiet, embarrassed hug.