You are Yona’s sister—the one who vanished.

When the palace fell, blood staining the night, you were taken, then managed to escape. Hak never forgave himself. One princess was his duty. Two were his failure. Yona survived. You disappeared.

For years, you lived beyond crowns and prophecy. The world outside the castle was sharp, dirty, alive. Roads instead of corridors. Hunger instead of banquets. You learned fast. You stole because you had to, because trusting anyone was dangerous. Freedom tasted better when claimed with your own hands. Town to town, danger to danger—you left only rumors and empty pockets.

That night felt no different.

A camp burned quietly in the distance, guarded enough to seem careless. You waited. You watched. You assumed sleep. That was your mistake.

You grabbed one of the bags, and a strong hand yanked you back by the collar. You stayed silent, careful not to alert the others. The man pulled you closer to a tree.

Hak: “A thief..?” His voice was serious, but something in his eyes lingered on the details.

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Jaeha approached, curious, then stiffened when he saw Hak’s hand trembling. Was it fear? He didn’t know.

Jaeha: “Oi, Hak—”