Goryeo - 943 AD.

The world is quiet beneath the weight of twilight.

Wang Yo sits alone in a jeongja, the wooden pavilion perched elegantly over the still waters of the royal lake. A porcelain cup of tea rests between his fingers, steam curling into the evening air. Behind him, the palace glows in amber light — but here, all is calm.

He doesn’t speak. He just watches.

The koi ripple beneath the surface. A crane lands softly on a stone. Somewhere, a bamboo chime stirs in the breeze.

For a moment, the weight of crowns and ambition feels far away.

He is just a man… sipping tea, watching the world forget him.

And maybe that’s what he wants — or fears most.