Far within the northern mountains, a heavy veil of mist drifted down the rugged slopes, swallowing the landscape in silence.
Haneul sat alone beside the frozen stillness of a mountain lake, searching for a fleeting moment of peace beneath the unbearable weight pressing against her soul.
Winter had already reached the mountains.
Merciless.
Unforgiving.
A bitter wind skimmed across the dark water, carrying a cold so piercing it seemed to seep through silk, flesh, and bone alike.
Across the lake, barely visible through the drifting fog, she caught sight of a solitary figure.
A broad-shouldered man.
He wielded a heavy sword, its blade carving through the frozen air with measured precision as he practiced military forms alone along the opposite shore.
Haneul lacked both the strength and the desire to discover who he was.
She lowered her gaze.
Little by little, it felt as though the world around her had begun to lose its color.
Sensing both her mistress's fragile condition and the cruelty of the mountain air, her momjong approached quietly and draped a thick woolen durumagi over Haneul's shoulders.
"My Lady..."
Her voice trembled with concern.
"What are you doing out here? The cold is especially treacherous today."
Haneul released a slow breath.
A cloud of white mist escaped her lips before vanishing into the frozen morning.
"I wonder how Father is..."
Her voice broke beneath the weight of longing.
"So many moons have passed, and I have heard nothing."
She stared across the water.
"Do you think the Daesagan is still looking after his affairs in the capital?"
The maid clasped her hands before her.
Sorrow filled her eyes.
"I miss Master Han as well, My Lady."
Haneul's gaze drifted back to the dark, glasslike water.
Its surface reflected nothing.
Only silence.
"The Cheomseongdae was the only world I ever knew," she whispered.
"I believed nothing existed beyond its walls... beyond the stars themselves."
A bitter smile touched her lips.
"And now..."
"I find myself stranded in a foreign land, not even knowing whether my father still draws breath."
She slowly turned toward the opposite shore.
The distant warrior continued his relentless training beneath the gray winter sky.
"I should have been born a man."
A single tear slipped down her frozen cheek.
"My father would never have suffered because of me."
She swallowed hard.
"Or perhaps..."
"If I had never existed..."
"...none of this would have happened."
Her eyes had become hollow.
"Look at me."
"I am nothing more than a fugitive."
"An accomplice in the abduction of a king."
"And despised by the very man who once swore to protect my secret."
She looked at her faithful maid.
Pain had extinguished every trace of light within her.
"This world belongs to those who hunt from the shadows..."
"...while it survives only because of unseen hands that can never reveal themselves."
Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
"This is not the life I chose."
Without warning, Haneul slipped the durumagi from her shoulders.
Then she began walking toward the lake.
"My Lady!"
The momjong's scream shattered the stillness.
"No!"
Haneul never stopped.
The freezing water soaked the hem of her chima, climbing steadily higher with every step.
Her ankles.
Her knees.
Her waist.
The lake welcomed her without mercy.
Across the water, the swordsman froze.
The desperate cries echoed across the valley.
He looked up.
And saw a young woman deliberately surrendering herself to the icy depths.
"Get away from the water!"
His voice thundered across the lake.
"Come back!"
Already he was running.
His boots pounded over the frozen ground as he raced around the shoreline with every ounce of strength he possessed.
But Haneul never turned.
The cold robbed her body of its strength within moments.
Her legs gave way.
Her fingers grew numb.
She closed her eyes.
Then surrendered herself to the current as the dark northern waters closed silently above her.
The icy shock stole Kang-dae's breath the instant he plunged into the lake.
The cold was merciless.
It pierced his body like a thousand needles driven into his flesh.
Yet the terror of watching Haneul disappear eclipsed every trace of physical pain.
He drove himself forward with desperate strokes, cutting through the black water until he caught sight of her pale silhouette drifting beneath the surface.
Without hesitation, he dove.
His arms found her.
One hand wrapped firmly around her waist as he fought against the weight of her waterlogged garments.
With every ounce of strength he possessed, he forced them upward.
At last they broke through the surface.
He gasped for air only once before dragging her toward the rocky shore.
By the time he reached land, the momjong had already fallen to her knees beside them, sobbing uncontrollably as she helped pull Haneul completely out of the freezing water.
"My Lady!"
Her cries dissolved into tears.
"Please... wake up..."
Haneul lay motionless upon the frost-hardened grass.
Her face had turned ghostly pale.
A bluish tint had begun to stain her lips.
Kang-dae knelt beside her, his trembling fingers searching beneath her nose for the faintest trace of breath.
There was nothing.
"Haneul!"
His voice cracked as he gently shook her shoulders.
"Open your eyes."
No answer.
Beside them, the momjong collapsed to her knees, overcome by sobs.
"My Lady..."
She could barely force the words through her tears.
"Please... wake up..."
Kang-dae carefully rolled Haneul onto her side and brushed the soaked strands of hair away from her face.
Then, remembering fragments of what he had once seen military physicians do for soldiers pulled from swollen rivers, he leaned her forward and struck firmly between her shoulder blades.
Nothing.
He tried again.
Harder this time.
Still nothing.
"Breathe!"
The command tore from his throat.
"Haneul... breathe!"
A small stream of water spilled from the corner of her lips.
But her body remained limp.
Lifeless.
In that instant, the wall of cold indifference Kang-dae had built around himself over the past several days shattered completely.
The resentment.
The discipline.
The words left unspoken.
None of it mattered anymore.
There was only one thing left.
The unbearable terror of losing her.
He gently laid her on her back once more.
One hand rested just below her ribs as he pressed carefully, as though he could somehow remind her lungs how to draw breath again.
"No..."
His voice was barely more than a whisper.
"You are not dying here."
He lowered his ear to her lips.
Silence.
Nothing.
Not even the faintest breath.
Panic tightened around his chest.
He had no certainty that what he was about to do would save her.
Only instinct.
Only desperation.
Cradling her face between both hands, he gently parted her lips and breathed into them.
Then he waited.
Nothing.
"Haneul..."
He tried again.
This time forcing more air into her lungs.
"Come back."
His voice was firm.
Almost commanding.
Yet beneath that command lay a plea so desperate it threatened to break him.
"Don't you dare leave me."
Time itself seemed to stop.
The mountain wind fell silent.
The lake became still.
Even the world appeared to hold its breath beside them.
Then—
Haneul's body convulsed violently.
Her back arched.
A rush of icy water burst from her mouth.
Kang-dae immediately turned her onto her side as she erupted into a fit of ragged, agonizing coughs, desperately struggling to pull air into lungs that had forgotten how to breathe.
A trembling breath escaped him.
Relief.
Pure, overwhelming relief.
"That's it..."
His voice was almost a whisper as he supported her head.
"Breathe."
Another cough.
"Just breathe."
Her eyelids fluttered open.
Only slightly.
Her vision remained clouded.
Lost.
Yet through the haze, her eyes found his.
The man kneeling before her bore no trace of the cold soldier who had kept her at arm's length these past several days.
There was no discipline.
No anger.
No distance.
Only fear.
Raw.
Unprotected.
Devastating.
Without wasting another heartbeat, Kang-dae slipped one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back.
He lifted her into his arms.
She weighed almost nothing.
Yet her body trembled uncontrollably against his chest, cold enough to make him feel as though he were holding winter itself.
He wrapped both arms around her as tightly as he dared, shielding her from the mountain wind with his own body while breaking into a run toward the temple.
"Prepare the ondol!"
His voice echoed through the courtyard like thunder.
"Bring dry blankets!"
"Light every brazier!"
"Now!"
The monks hurried in every direction.
No one questioned his orders.
They carried Haneul into the heated chambers and laid her gently upon the warm wooden floor.
While the momjong hurried to replace her soaked garments with dry robes and thick blankets, Kang-dae remained kneeling beside her.
He never let go of her hand.
Her fingers were frozen.
Almost colorless.
He enclosed them between his own and rubbed them desperately, willing warmth back into her lifeless skin.
Slowly...
Very slowly...
He felt the faintest trace of heat begin to return.
Haneul shivered violently beneath the blankets.
Fever had already begun clouding her thoughts.
Her breathing remained uneven.
Her gaze wandered until it settled upon him.
"...Why...?"
Her voice was barely audible.
Little more than a broken whisper swallowed by the silence of the room.
"...Why didn't you let me go...?"
For a long moment...
Kang-dae could not answer.
Every lie he had rehearsed...
Every excuse he had hidden behind...
Every wall he had built...
Collapsed before the sight of her lying there.
He tightened his grip around her trembling hand.
His own eyes glistened with emotions he had spent years burying beneath duty and steel.
When he finally spoke...
His voice broke.
"Because..."
He lowered his forehead until it almost touched her hand.
"...I've already lost too many people, Haneul."