The door clicked shut behind Seo Yul.
King Hwan Seong stood still, eyes fixed on the space where the boy had stood moments ago. His fingers flexed at his side, tense and restless.
"You fool…"
He muttered it under his breath, unsure whether it was aimed at Seo Yul or himself.
He turned away and sat at his desk, but his eyes wouldn't stay on the scroll in front of him. The words blurred. His chest was tight.
He could still feel it the tremble in Seo Yul's arm when he pinned him, the shallow breaths, the wide, terrified eyes. That same boy whose kingdom he had destroyed. Whose father he had killed. Whose future he had shattered.
And yet… all he could think about was how fragile he had felt.
Not just physically but in spirit.
Seo Yul hadn't lashed out or argued. He had folded in fear, like a paper bird crumpled by rain.
"Why didn't he scream?" Hwan whispered to himself. "Why didn't he hate me?"
He leaned back, rubbing his face with one hand, trying to shake off the ghost of that moment.
The silence of his study pressed in on him, heavy and cold.
He had expected Seo Yul to be defiant. Or broken. Or numb.
But instead, he was… human. Soft. Scared. Still clinging to something maybe pride, or maybe just the last pieces of his dignity.
And that look in his eyes
It wasn't just fear.
It was sorrow. Deep, aching sorrow.
"He still remembers his father…" the king thought. "He still hears his mother's voice."
He let out a long breath and leaned forward, elbows on the desk.
This boy, whom he had spared only to keep under his watch… was slowly becoming something else.
A reminder of things Hwan didn't want to remember.
Of himself.
Of a time when he, too, had been young and powerless. When people looked down on him. When grief had been the only thing he had left.
"I should've left him to die…" he thought.
But he hadn't.
He had dragged him to Goryeon.
Claimed it was punishment. A lesson.
But even now, he couldn't fully explain why.
Maybe it was guilt.
Maybe it was something else.
Outside his window, the sun dipped low, casting long shadows on the stone floors.
And within the king's chest, something long silent stirred.
Not pity.
Not affection.
But a quiet, dangerous curiosity.
Who is this boy... really?
And why does his silence speak louder than anything?