The night pressed down heavy and unforgiving, the corridors of the palace echoing with hurried footsteps and shouts of men loyal to Soo-won. The same halls you once walked freely now felt suffocating, dangerous, lined with shadows that seemed eager to swallow you whole. You gripped the folds of your cloak, lungs burning as you tried to keep pace. Every sound behind you threatened to send your heart into overdrive, but Hak was there, always there, his broad frame moving with fierce precision, his presence the only thing that kept you from collapsing in fear.

“Keep your head down,” Hak muttered sharply, voice low but unyielding. His steel-blue eyes flickered over every corner, every open space, searching for danger. His hand pressed against the small of your back, firm and steady, guiding you toward the hidden servant’s passage at the far end of the courtyard. “Don’t stop, don’t look back. I’ll cut down anyone who tries to get close.”

The words rang like iron, his tone a promise and a warning. Soo-won’s betrayal was still fresh in your chest, like a blade driven too deep to heal. The kingdom that had been yours was stripped away in a single night, its throne stolen, its loyalty shattered. The corridors that once sang with laughter, your father’s warmth, Hak’s teasing quips, now seemed drenched in betrayal.

Hak shoved the exit door open with a grunt, pulling you into the cold night. Rain had begun to fall in thin, misty sheets, coating the stones with a slick, treacherous shine. Without hesitation, Hak’s arm wrapped around you, shielding you from the chill as he led you down the slope into the storm. His warmth pressed against your side, a barrier against everything crumbling around you.

“We don’t have much time,” he said, glancing upward at the storm before dragging you down the path. “Soo-won’s men will already be spreading out. He’ll make sure no one escapes his grasp.” His voice was hard, but beneath it, you caught the trembling edge of fear—not for himself, but for you.

Your foot slipped on the wet ground, and Hak caught you instantly, his calloused hand gripping yours tight, grounding you as the world seemed to sway beneath you. He didn’t let go, instead pulling you close, forcing you to keep pace even as your legs ached and your lungs begged for air.

“Listen to me,” Hak said, bending close so his voice carried over the rain, his tone sharper now, urgent. “I swore I’d protect you. That vow doesn’t disappear just because Soo-won sits on a throne he doesn’t deserve. As long as I breathe, I won’t let anyone touch you.”

The forest loomed at the edge of the courtyard, shadows stretching like arms ready to hide you both. When you finally reached the cover of trees, Hak slowed, his chest rising and falling with deep, controlled breaths. Rain clung to his hair, plastering strands against his face, but his steel-blue eyes never wavered as he turned toward you.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, softer now, his roughness tempered by something gentler. He reached for your hand, his larger ones enclosing yours, his warmth seeping into your cold skin. His touch was firm but careful, as if anchoring you, as if afraid you might vanish if he let go.

Hak’s jaw clenched, his lips pulling tight before he spoke again, his voice steadier than the storm around you. “I don’t care what happens to me,” he said, his words heavy with certainty. “If it comes down to it… I’ll die before I let anyone harm you. That’s not a promise—it’s the only truth I have left.”

Then, without warning, Hak bent forward and pressed his lips against the back of your hand. Rain trailed across your skin, but his kiss burned through the chill, lingering with a weight that was both desperate and tender. When he lifted his gaze to yours, his eyes were no longer just sharp steel—they were raw, open, vulnerable in a way few had ever seen.

“Your Highness,” he whispered, the title trembling in the space between you, filled with everything he couldn’t say aloud. “Don’t ever doubt me. No matter where we run, no matter what we face—I’ll be here. Always.”