Haneul was announced outside Daesagan's chambers.
Inside, Jun-ho was already waiting.
Yet when the eunuch called her name for the first time, no answer came.
Nor the second.
Jun-ho was standing before the polished bronze mirror, staring silently at the silk robes draped over his shoulders. His gaze lingered over every fold, every embroidered detail, adjusting them with unusual care until he was finally satisfied.
Only then did he answer.
"Let her enter."
Haneul barely noticed the elegance of his attire when she stepped inside.
She remained quietly beside her momjong, her hands folded before her, while Jun-ho watched her in silence.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Jun-ho calmly ordered the servants to leave and instructed them to return only when dinner was ready.
The doors slid shut behind them.
Silence settled between the two.
Warm.
Unsteady.
Dangerous.
Jun-ho slowly approached her.
His eyes lingered on the loose strands of hair brushing against her cheek. Without a word, he reached out and gently tucked them back into place.
Then his fingers paused against the jade binyeo adorning her hair.
"It suits you beautifully," he murmured.
Haneul lowered her gaze shyly.
"My father gave it to me," she said softly. "The last time we went to the market together."
Something shifted in Jun-ho's expression.
Carefully, he lifted her chin between his fingers.
"Then I'd like to buy you another one."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"No… this one is enough."
"I insist."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"We'll go to the market together and choose the most beautiful one for you."
For a moment, she simply stared at him.
Then, almost timidly, she nodded.
"…Alright."
At that exact moment, dinner was announced.
Servants entered carrying tray after tray of food until the low tables overflowed with dishes.
Haneul blinked in surprise.
"Are we expecting more guests?"
Jun-ho sat across from her.
"No."
Her eyes moved across the endless selection of food.
"All of this… is for us?"
"Yes."
Then, noticing her hesitation, he tilted his head slightly.
"Is there something you dislike? I can have it replaced immediately."
Haneul waved her hands quickly.
"No, no—it's perfect like this."
But as dinner began, silence slowly reclaimed the room.
Jun-ho could negotiate politics.
Command men.
Manipulate court ministers.
Yet somehow…
He could not find the courage to tell her the truth.
Not about the plan.
Not about Kang-dae being alive.
And certainly not while every passing day made his feelings for her grow more dangerous.
Suddenly, desperate to break the tension, he asked the most unexpected question imaginable.
"Do you know how to sew?"
Haneul nearly dropped her chopsticks.
They struck the table with a sharp clack.
She stared at him as though he had completely lost his mind.
"…Yes. Why are you asking me that now?"
"I need your help making costumes," he replied calmly. "And masks."
Her brows furrowed immediately.
"Masks?" she repeated in disbelief. "How can you be thinking about festivals when the world is falling apart?"
Jun-ho crossed his arms.
"And how much longer do you plan to sit there mourning?"
Her eyes widened.
"Who said I was mourning?"
A slow smile appeared on his lips.
As if he had trapped her with her own words.
"Then will you help me or not?"
For a second, Haneul could only stare at him.
Then laughter escaped her despite herself.
Pure irony.
One moment, he was comforting her like the gentlest man alive…
Next, he was assigning her sewing duties.
"You're unbelievable," she muttered, shaking her head. "Fine. I'll help you."
"Good."
Satisfaction flickered across Jun-ho's face.
"Tomorrow, we'll go to the market at dawn and choose the finest fabrics."
Then his tone shifted slightly.
Because beneath the casual words…
Lay the truth.
"What we create won't be for a simple dance."
His gaze darkened.
"It will decide the most important move of our lives."
The following morning, Haneul waited in the front courtyard beneath the first light of dawn.
Distracted by the birds circling above, she didn't notice Jun-ho approaching behind her.
He stopped several steps away.
Watching her quietly.
But before he could speak—
"You're late, Daesagan."
Jun-ho blinked in surprise.
She hadn't even turned around.
"How did you know I was there?"
He stepped beside her with a faint smirk.
"Are you always this punctual for dates?"
Haneul turned so quickly that her braid nearly whipped across her shoulder.
"…Dates?"
Jun-ho feigned complete innocence.
"Did I say that?"
But the amusement in his eyes betrayed him instantly.
Heat rushed into Haneul's cheeks.
"Repeat what you just said."
Instead of answering, Jun-ho simply turned and began walking toward the estate gates.
"We should leave before it gets late."
And just like that, he left her standing there speechless—forcing her to hurry after him.
Every step had been calculated.
Jun-ho's true goal had never been merely to buy materials for the Sandaenori.
He wanted this.
A real day with her.
When they stepped down from the ssanggyo, Jun-ho immediately took her hand.
Firmly.
Haneul tried to pull away, startled by the sudden contact, but his grip tightened just enough to keep her close.
"Act natural," he whispered, barely hiding the satisfaction in his voice. "Today, we are an ordinary couple shopping for fabric."
His eyes swept across the crowded market.
"We don't know who may be watching."
Under the excuse of caution and espionage, the Daesagan allowed himself the selfish pleasure of pretending she belonged beside him.
Deep down, Jun-ho knew this fragile peace would not last.
Once the plan moved forward…
Once Haneul learned Kang-dae was alive…
Everything would change.
So he clung to that day as though it were the most precious thing his strategy had given him.
The market slowly became its own little world.
They wandered through crowded stalls and narrow paths like a real couple, laughing beneath the noise of merchants and music.
People turned to look at them constantly.
Not because of their clothing—they had dressed simply to avoid attention.
But because of the energy between them.
Haneul glowed differently that day.
Her laughter.
Her teasing.
The way she darted through the crowded streets with endless curiosity.
Jun-ho found himself wondering how one woman could possess so many impossible qualities at once.
He could not stop watching her.
Not even for a moment.
Whenever someone passed too close, his arm instinctively moved between them to shield her. He watched the ground beneath her feet, careful of every uneven stone.
Protecting her had become instinct.
The difference between them became most obvious when food was involved.
For Jun-ho, nearly everything sold in the streets was unfamiliar. His life within the palace had confined him to formal banquets and carefully prepared meals.
Haneul found this endlessly amusing.
Laughing, she dragged him from stall to stall, forcing him to taste local snacks.
Jun-ho resisted at first like an irritated child.
But eventually—
He always gave in.
And little by little, beneath playful arguments, stolen glances, and shared laughter…
Something dangerous bloomed between them.
Haneul was happier than she had been in months.
And Jun-ho—
Though he tried desperately to maintain his composure—
Could no longer hide the truth.
Seeing her smile…
Had become the thing he treasured most.