The road to Goryeon was long and silent.
The soldiers marched ahead and behind, forming a shield of steel around the royal group. Their boots crushed the snow-dusted ground in rhythm, but to Seo Yul, every step felt like another piece of his past slipping away.
He sat inside a royal carriage, draped in Goryeon's dark blue silks, far too grand for someone whose kingdom had just burned. It wasn't comfort, it was confinement.
He hadn't spoken a word since leaving Baekseong. Not when the guards offered him food. Not even when they called him by name. "Seo Yul. You need to eat."
He turned his head away from the tray. The food smelled warm, but his stomach turned.
Outside, through the half-open curtain, he could see the king.
Hwan Seong did not ride in a carriage. He rode a black horse at the head of the line, armor stripped now, dressed in layered robes of deep gray. His back was straight, posture calm, as if none of this disturbed him. As if he hadn't destroyed a kingdom.
Seo Yul hated how he looked composed, noble, untouched by grief.
He hated that he didn't understand him.
He hated that he wasn't scared of him.
What kind of king spares a boy from the family he killed?
And yet… there had been something in Hwan Seong's eyes. Not pity. Not pride. Something quieter. Something unreadable.