Once the ministers were out of the palace gates, Lord Shikryeom had barely taken a few steps when he sensed a presence looming above him.
He continued walking, his pace steady, though the shadow followed closely behind. Then, suddenly, the sensation vanished.
He stopped and turned, his gaze sweeping through the empty space behind him.
Nothing.
As he faced forward again, a figure appeared before him, cloaked in disguise, a sword held firmly in hand. The atmosphere tightened as Lord Shikryeom narrowed his eyes.
The man dropped to one knee.
"My lord."
"Any news about the king's secrecy?" Lord Shikryeom asked coolly.
"Yes, my lord. The king has been ill for a long time now. The royal physician was ordered to keep his illness a secret," the man replied as he rose to his feet.
Lord Shikryeom slowly stroked his chin. "Could the king be thinking of abdicating the throne soon?" he murmured, more to himself than to his guard.
"The queen?" he asked, giving a slight nod.
"Nothing of the queen yet. She has kept a low profile. Nothing worthy to report."
Lord Shikryeom raised a skeptical brow. A lion never truly slept. She would surely be plotting something.
"And her?" His expression hardened.
The guard kept his gaze fixed on the ground. "My apologies, my lord. I could not find anything about her yet."
Lord Shikryeom's brow furrowed. Years had passed, and still there was no trace. He could not afford to assume she was dead—not when she alone held the truth of those past events. Worse still, the queen had never stopped searching.
"Find her before the queen does," he ordered coldly. "Dead or alive."
"Yes, my lord."
In the blink of an eye, the man vanished into the shadows, leaving Lord Shikryeom standing alone, his thoughts swirling.
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