Chapter 38: Flames and Facades

“No, you mustn’t!” a clear voice rang out.

Turning, I saw Gaeyeohwa approaching, panting heavily as if she’d been running. She stopped, catching her breath.

I frowned slightly. “Lady Gaeyeohwa.”

“Your Highness, I… I…” she gasped.

Her breathing was so labored it seemed almost theatrical. She needed time to compose herself.

“Catch your breath,” I said.

“No, it’s… it’s…” she stammered.

She was breathless, barely able to speak, her face pale as if she might collapse. Yet, she hadn’t fainted.

I spoke slowly, calming her. “You should exercise at dawn. It’d do you good.”

“Exercise… I…” she panted.

“Walking daily is good. Follow the castle walls—it’ll help. Keep that in mind,” I said.

“Don’t take it as meddling. It’s sincere advice,” I added.

Gaeyeohwa stood there, struggling to regain herself, then finally spoke clearly.

“You mustn’t,” she repeated.

She’d said it while running. I hadn’t done anything yet—what was she saying I shouldn’t do?

Had she already seen through my plans? If so, she was fit to be a master strategist. I couldn’t let someone like her fall into Duke Mungong’s hands. That’d be like handing heaven’s greatest tactician to my enemy.

“Are you a master of schemes, Lady? If so, it wouldn’t be hard to recommend you highly. You’d outshine others,” I said.

It was a casual remark, testing her.

Her brilliance as a strategist owed much to her foresight.

Had she come running because she’d seen the future?

My guess was right.

“Please, I beg you, stop,” she said.

Her expression was more desperate than I’d expected.

I’d thought she’d be more calculated.

She was trying so hard to hide her hand, it was only natural.

But to reveal her cards like this, with so little to play?

“What do you think I’m planning that you want me to stop?” I asked.

“What are you planning? Please, stop it,” she said.

“So, tell me what to stop, and I’ll decide whether to continue or not,” I said.

She furrowed her brow.

“Whatever you’re thinking, please abandon it,” she said.

I chuckled. “I’m not thinking anything, so there’s nothing to abandon.”

“Your Highness,” she said, her voice urgent.

I didn’t know why she was so desperate.

I wasn’t threatening her, yet it felt like I was. Strange.

I stared at her, then turned away. My gaze caught a black speck in the sky, lingering there.

“Be quiet,” I said softly.

“What?” she asked, not understanding.

“Your Highness?” she said again.

“It’s already too late,” I said.

“Too late for what?” she asked.

“It’s already in motion,” I said.

The speck was clearly Gonjo, carrying dry branches in his beak as he flew. In daylight, it wasn’t obvious, but I wasn’t aiming for a big fire. A small spark would suffice, as starting a blaze wasn’t easy.

Gaeyeohwa followed my gaze but didn’t spot Gonjo.

“You should’ve spoken up sooner if you were going to reveal it,” I said.

“What?” she asked.

“It’s as good as confessed now. No point pretending otherwise,” I said.

At that, she closed her eyes tightly, as if caught.

“I didn’t mean to deceive Your Highness,” she said.

“Whatever your intent, the result was deception,” I said.

She fell silent, like a mute who’d swallowed her words.

Then I saw Gonjo’s wings flutter as he dove, vanishing from sight only to reappear in the sky.

“Your Highness,” she said.

“If you have something to say, say it. No need to just call my name,” I said.

In my mind, I counted seconds. I wasn’t great with numbers, but I could estimate how long a fire would take to catch. It wouldn’t take long, so there was little point in panicking.

“Did you know from the start?” she asked.

“The start? You mean the fire?” I said.

“When you first came to Namakseong,” she clarified.

“What’s so important about that?” I asked.

Her face looked as if she’d been struck by lightning.

“It doesn’t seem that important,” she said.

“What’s important to you, then?” I asked.

“Did you know before coming to this city?” she pressed.

She let out a hollow laugh, as if exhausted.

“Does it matter if I knew or not?” she said.

I nodded. “No, it doesn’t.”

Smoke began to rise, curling thickly. Her expression hardened.

“It’s not a big deal, so don’t worry,” I said.

“How is this not a big deal? I wasn’t born here, but I’ve lived nearly my whole life in this city,” she said.

“I planned this fire, so there’s no need to worry,” I said, exhaling.

“You knew I’d start a fire?” I asked.

She turned away.

“A coincidence,” she said.

“Quite a coincidence,” I said.

There was no need to watch her avoid my gaze. I kept my eyes on the fire. No flames were visible yet.

“Will you keep pretending it’s not you?” I asked.

“I don’t know what answer you want,” she said.

The smoke grew thicker, and flames began to flicker. The fire would soon engulf the storage.

From nearby, Gaeyeohwa flinched.

Shouts of “Fire!” rang out as people noticed. It was slower than I’d thought, but no matter.

“You had a plan, didn’t you?” I asked suddenly.

“There’s nothing more to add,” she said.

She hesitated, then answered, “There is.”

“Is it true or not?” I asked.

“It’s hard to answer,” she said.

“You’re hiding something valuable, aren’t you?” I said.

I watched the blazing storage, then looked up. Gonjo was approaching.

“With the ability to see the future, isn’t it a waste to rot here?” I said.

“You won’t stay in Namakseong forever, but your fate isn’t to live long. So it’s all the same,” I added.

“Or maybe not,” I said.

She didn’t answer.

It didn’t matter.

“No words, huh? I thought you’d be as desperate as me, but there’s no point revealing my hand here,” I said.

I asked something else.

“Who’s your father meeting, sneaking around behind my back?” I said.

It was a safe question now.

Knowing I’d grasped her foresight, she wouldn’t speak recklessly elsewhere.

Whether she’d given up or decided to join me, she answered readily.

I listened, asking a few more questions. She answered honestly, giving evasive responses where needed.

I could hear answers beyond my predictions.

Then she said, “I have something to ask, Your Highness. May I?”

“Go ahead,” I said.

It cost nothing to answer.

“How did you know?” she asked.

“My ability?” I said.

“It’s shocking, isn’t it?” I teased.

I paused, then answered, “Someone told me.”

“What?” she said, visibly shaken, her eyes lowering.

Now she’d distrust those around her.

But what could I do? I had no other choice. What could I say? That I died, met a ghost, and it sent me back in time as a prince?

I’d be called mad.

“Well done,” I thought.

Gonjo, nearing us, saw me with Gaeyeohwa and veered off.

“Go rest,” I said.

“So, what’s your plan now, Lady?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” she said.

“Will you stay in Namakseong?” I asked.

No answer. Not defiance, but hesitation.

“You don’t trust me,” I said.

She lowered her head, then raised it.

“Is your offer still valid?” she asked.

“You want to leave Namakseong?” I said.

She answered firmly, “To be honest, yes.”

“Leaving isn’t hard,” I said.

“I’m not someone to toy with,” she said.

Of course. She’d become Mungong’s strategist. She was likely doing similar now. If I were Namakseong’s lord, I’d never let her go.

If I were him, even if Mungong was the other party, I’d hide her existence.

I’d keep her to myself. I’m the kind who values personal gain over honor, so I had no choice but to be underhanded.

“You might trust and follow me, but that’s risky,” I said.

“I don’t trust,” she said.

Here, my words faltered.

Too honest.

“If I could escape this city, I wouldn’t worry later,” she said.

Our eyes met, unwavering.

“Not bad,” I thought.

“You can see the future, so you’d find your way no matter who you serve,” I said.

“That’s not the ending I want,” she said.

She said betrayal was once enough.

But I thought differently. Taken in by Namakseong’s lord as a child, she hadn’t chosen her lord. It wasn’t betrayal.

“So you’re choosing based on faith?” I asked.

“I don’t trust Your Highness,” she said.

Her expression turned sour.

She glanced at the burning storage.

Her face twisted.

No, it wasn’t a mistake.

“It’s just that you’re my only chance,” she said.

“That’s a shame,” I said.