The moon hung low over the ancient palace courtyard, casting silver shadows upon the stones worn by centuries. One by one, representatives of the great houses gathered beneath the blossoming cherry trees, their faces etched with the weight of honor, duty, and secret desires.

From the northern reaches stepped Lord Baek Seong-jin of the Seonghwan House, his gaze sharp and unwavering. His scarred hands clenched a folded letter — a summons to war, or perhaps betrayal. The chill of the night did not deter him; his blood ran with the fierce loyalty of a warrior born.

Near the koi pond, Lady Han Eun-ha of the Gyerim House moved with a grace that belied her iron will. Draped in silk embroidered with gold cherry blossoms, her eyes flickered with the quiet fire of rebellion. She was the delicate heart beating beneath the cold veneer of court politics.

From the shadows, General Namgung Hwan of the Namgung House emerged, his broad shoulders and stern expression intimidating all who dared meet his gaze. His family’s dragon emblem gleamed faintly in the moonlight, a symbol of raw power and unyielding discipline.

At the edge of the garden, Scholar Jin Ha-rin of the Jin Hwa House whispered ancient prayers, his fingers tracing the air as if weaving spells. His calm demeanor masked the turbulent storm of knowledge and secrets that threatened to unravel the kingdom’s fragile peace.

Lastly, from the eastern gate, Yun Soo-won of the Yun House arrived, his smile charming but eyes shadowed with dangerous intent. The scent of the sea clung to him, a reminder of his dominion over the waves and the shadowy deals whispered in the harbor taverns.

Together, beneath the silent witness of the moon, the five houses stood—tied by blood, bound by duty, and divided by fate. The night was thick with unspoken alliances, veiled threats, and the lingering promise of both love and war.