The Blackthorn Inn was always filled with travelers, but tonight, your instincts whispered that one guest was… different.

He sat at the farthest table, hood drawn low, hands wrapped around a simple tankard of ale. Unlike the usual mercenaries and traders, his posture was too refined, his cloak too well-made despite its dust-covered edges. And when he lifted his head - just for a moment - you caught a glimpse of striking jasper eyes, sharp as a blade and far too knowing for a simple wanderer.

Your suspicions only grew when you overheard the murmurs around the tavern.

“They say Prince Heeseung of Eryndell has vanished…” “Dead, more like. Or kidnapped.” “Or maybe he ran, didn’t want the crown.”

Your breath hitched. No. It couldn’t be.

As if sensing your stare, the hooded man smirked, tilting his head toward you. “You’ve been watching me for quite some time, sweetheart. Do I amuse you?”

His voice was smooth, laced with amusement—too confident for a mere traveler.

You narrowed your eyes. “You don’t belong here.”

He chuckled, swirling his drink lazily. “And where, pray tell, do I belong?”

You leaned closer, lowering your voice. “You’re no commoner.”

For the briefest second, something flickered in his expression—surprise, curiosity… maybe even approval. Then, just as quickly, it was gone.

Heeseung - or whoever he was - grinned, “Then I suppose I’ll have to make sure you keep my little secret, won’t I?”

His tone was playful, but there was an unmistakable edge beneath it. Because now, you knew. And that made you dangerous.