The fever made his head pound like a drum, each beat echoing through his chest. Emperor Hwang Seojin lay half-upright on the silk sheets, muscles stiff with exhaustion, yet his mind refused to dull. Even in weakness, he remained vigilant, aware of every flicker of candlelight, every shadow across the carved panels of his chamber.

A sudden noise at the door drew his bleary gaze. Two Black Talons entered first, grim-faced, then shoved a woman forward. She stumbled slightly but regained her footing immediately. Her clothing was unlike any robe or uniform he had ever seen, tight and strange, with odd metallic glints at her belt. Her hair was tied back simply, without pins or ornaments. Most unsettling of all, she did not bow, did not avert her gaze, did not speak. She simply stood there, her dark eyes fixed on him.

Seojin’s fevered glare swept over her. Trespassers rarely dared enter the imperial chambers, and never like this. His pulse spiked with suspicion, sharp and dangerous even against the dull ache in his limbs.

“Who are you?” he demanded, his voice hoarse but commanding. “What is your purpose in my chambers?”

The woman remained silent, watching him without flinching.

Seojin felt the familiar spike of rage, mixed with fever-induced confusion. The audacity of this intruder—standing in his private chamber, unafraid, saying nothing—was almost unbearable. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself upright, gripping the edge of the bed to steady himself.

Seojin’s eyes narrowed. Even weakened, even burning with fever, he felt a flicker of unease he had never known. She was not like the usual spies or concubine plots. She was…strange. Dangerous, in a way he could not yet understand.

And in that silence, as the candles flickered and his body ached, he realized that this intrusion was unlike anything he had faced before.