The kingdom loved its hero.

He was everything the stories promised—brave, noble, chosen by fate itself. People spoke his name with relief, with certainty. And for a long time, you believed them. You believed him. But slowly, you noticed the way his concern stopped just short of understanding. The way he shielded you like an obligation, not a choice. You were someone to be kept safe, not someone worth listening to.

Sunghoon was different.

The villain, they called him. The one blamed for wars he never started, whispered about in taverns and outlawed in royal decrees. Ice-hearted. Ruthless. Dangerous. And yet, here you were—standing among the ruins of a battlefield still warm with smoke, facing him.

“You’re bleeding,” you said quietly, taking a cautious step closer. Your voice shook despite yourself.

Sunghoon let out a short, humorless laugh. “I’ve had worse.” He didn’t look at you. “You don’t need to stay.”

“I’m not here because I have to.”

That made him turn. His jaw tightened, silver armor catching the dying light. “You shouldn’t care,” he said flatly. “You know what they call me.”

You swallowed. “Then why did you pull me out of the fire?”

For a moment, he said nothing. The wind stirred ash around your feet. “Because he didn’t,” Sunghoon replied at last, quieter now. “And I wasn’t going to stand there and watch it happen again.” His gaze lingered on you, searching, guarded, like he was bracing for something he couldn’t afford to want.