Ji-hwan departed under moonlight.
He left no guards, no carriage. Only a map written with half-legends and an ancient name: Gojin.
He believed he was cautious.
He wasn't cautious enough.
Seong-min discovered him by the river, just before the forest consumed the road.
No crown. No robes. Only a dark cloak and quiet.
Ji-hwan did not turn. "You shouldn't be here."
Seong-min's tone was gentle. "And yet here I am."
The wind rustled the grass between them. The same wind that had carried smoke and deception.
"I wasn't abandoning you," Ji-hwan said, finally turning to face him. "I was protecting you."
Seong-min's face was impassive. "By pursuing the man who could be evidence you're fated to kill me?"
Ji-hwan winced. "I needed to know. I couldn't—"
"Look me in the eye?"
Silence.
Then: "No. I couldn't lie to you again."
Seong-min took a step closer. Slowly. Carefully. As if Ji-hwan might disappear.
"I'm not afraid of the prophecy," the king said. "I'm afraid you'll believe it before I do."
Ji-hwan turned his head away. "Wouldn't you? If it were me on the throne?"
"No," Seong-min said. "Because I already died once without you. I'm not doing it again."
Ji-hwan's voice shook. "Then come with me."
A heartbeat passed.
Then: "Always.
They remained there as the moon was coming up, two figures bound together by destiny and terror.
Not enemies.
Not lovers.
Simply two men trying to run away from fate—hand in hand