Krosmetics Headquarters
Misaki paced outside Kro's office like a person awaiting judgment.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Her fingernails were suffering for it.
She kept biting at them, stopping only to clasp her hands together, then starting again a second later. Her plan had backfired far sooner than she had expected. What she had meant as a warning to her father had somehow turned into fresh danger for Kro, and now the weight of that sat on her chest like a stone.
Talking to Kro seemed necessary.
It also terrified her.
"What if she's in a bad mood?" Misaki whispered to herself. "But I have to tell her. If I don't, things will get messy. What should I do? Think, Misaki, think."
Behind her, the office door opened a crack.
The secretary peeked out. For nearly ten minutes she had been watching Misaki's shadow pass back and forth under the door like a trapped spirit.
"Hi there!" the secretary called.
Misaki turned so quickly she startled herself. She forced her expression into something calmer.
"Hi. I'm Misaki. Is the president in?"
"Yes, she is. Do you want to speak with her?"
"Well… yes. If she's in a good mood."
The secretary smiled.
"Don't worry. Let me tell her you're here."
"Thank you."
A minute later the door opened again.
"She'll see you now."
Misaki drew in a long breath, cracked her knuckles, and walked in as if stepping toward a firing squad.
Kro was alone in the office.
Ukraine was outside handling another task, so the room was unusually quiet. Kro had already noticed the worry in Misaki's face before she even reached the chair. It was obvious this had nothing to do with work.
"Morning, Misaki," Kro said gently. "Please, sit."
"Thank you, boss."
Misaki sat, her hands folded tightly in her lap as she searched for the least disastrous way to begin.
"How may I help you?" Kro asked.
The question opened the gate.
"I'm really sorry, Miss Kro. I know I should be here talking about work, but… I'm here because of my father."
Kro's brows lifted slightly. "Oh?"
"I know you and he are not on good terms after what happened here. What he did was awful. And it made me worried."
"About what?"
Misaki straightened, "Miss Kro, my father has an anger problem. When he's furious, he stops thinking clearly. He'll do anything to get revenge."
Her voice dropped.
"I don't want anything bad to happen to you."
Kro's expression barely changed.
"I know this is hard for you, but you don't need to worry abou—"
"I'm friends with one of his bodyguards," Misaki cut in quickly. "Yesterday, after I left his office, I found out what happened. I know what he thinks now."
Kro leaned back.
"Misaki, I don't think I know what you mean."
Misaki swallowed.
"I thought I was doing the right thing by scaring him. I went to his office and made him think I was going to embarrass him publicly in the lobby. But I left before doing anything. Now he thinks you put me up to it."
Kro chuckled.
It was serious news. Misaki knew that. But Kro's reaction made it seem absurdly small. Compared to the storms she had survived over centuries, Minister Akeshi was hardly more than weather.
Still, she could see why Misaki was afraid.
"Misaki," Kro said, almost fondly, "go back to work, alright? I'll deal with your father very soon. You probably won't even notice when it happens."
Misaki stared at her.
"You need to be careful. Don't stay alone. Have someone with you."
Kro's mouth curved dryly.
"If your father wants to kill me, he could do it with a hundred people standing around me. He would just aim for my neck and boom—I'd be gone."
Misaki winced.
"So stop filling your head with this. Think about other things."
"But, boss—"
"Hey." Kro's tone softened. "I won't die. That's my assurance. Neither I nor the minister will die."
Misaki looked at her helplessly.
She had heard that kind of certainty before—from people who ended up buried. But Kro, in her mind, was still just another person, another life that could be broken if no one moved fast enough.
And this time, Misaki was desperate to keep that from happening.
...
The Marketing Director's Office
Sue had been haunted all morning.
Not by her mother-in-law this time, not even by the call about Zoe.
By the bar.
By fragments.
A table.
Beer bottles.
Kro's face across from her.
And beneath all of it, one horrifying memory that would not settle into clarity:
herself talking about her husband's death.
It was the darkest secret she had ever carried. The one thing she never wanted spoken aloud. The one thing her mother-in-law used to chain her down and keep her obedient.
Now, the possibility that she had spilled it while drunk made her feel exposed all over.
"Did I tell her?" Sue whispered to herself. "Did I really tell her?"
A knock came at the door.
Sue jerked, snapped open the files on her desk, and forced her face into professional order.
"Come in."
Kro stepped inside and shut the door behind her.
"I thought you'd leave me standing out there for ages," she said lightly.
Sue's heart kicked hard against her ribs.
Kro crossed to the desk and sat.
The look on Sue's face must have been almost criminal—like someone caught with blood still drying on their hands.
Kro noticed it immediately.
"Okay," she said. "What's going on?"
Sue tried to steady herself.
"Miss Kro…"
"I've been waiting for those files to reach my office," Kro said. "They never did. Are you still reviewing them?"
"Oh. Yes. I'm sorry. My mind's been a mess."
"Because of Zoe and the boarding school?"
Sue blinked, "Uh… yes. How did—"
"You told me over drinks," Kro said. "You were drunk. It makes sense you don't remember."
Sue's mouth went dry.
She had to know.
She leaned forward slightly, biting her lower lip before forcing the question out.
"Miss Kro… tell me honestly. Did I say anything else? I mean, something besides Zoe?"
Kro tilted her head. "Is there something you wanted to tell me?"
"No. It's just… I feel like I said something crazy. Something serious."
Kro went quiet.
She studied Sue's face and understood everything at once.
She's frightened. She can't even say it directly. So it was true.
The silence made Sue more frantic.
"Boss, please—did I—"
"Oh, I remember," Kro said suddenly.
Sue's whole body tensed.
"You called your mother-in-law a stupid devil. That sounded serious."
Sue stared.
"That's it?"
"That's it."
Kro stood and pushed the chair neatly back into place.
"Now sign those files and bring them to me. We don't have time to waste."
Relief hit Sue so hard she almost laughed.
For one glorious moment she believed her secret was still buried.
It made the day feel survivable again.
"Okay, boss," Sue said, smiling for real now. "I'll bring them myself."
"Good."
Kro turned and left.
And Sue, for the first time all week, felt like she could breathe.
Ukraine threw his coat onto the bed the moment he got home.
He had spent the entire day simmering, and now the heat had nowhere else to go. He had given his father time. More time than he deserved. Now he wanted answers.
He found Song's number, hit call, switched to speaker, and tossed the phone onto the table.
When Song answered, Ukraine didn't bother easing into it.
"Dad. Evening."
"Evening," Song said. "Let me guess. This is about my visit to your office."
"Correct. I want to know why. Why do that? Why go against the plan?"
"The plan is still the same, son. What I did was part of my plan."
Ukraine's jaw tightened.
"Care to explain it?"
"And then what?"
"Then I'll know what to do when you pull that kind of shit again."
A sharp pause.
"Shit?" Song repeated. "That's what you think it was? Is this how you're going to speak to me now?"
Ukraine laughed bitterly.
"Dad, what do you want with her? Why were you looking at her like that? I know that look. It's the same one you used to give girls at the gym. Do you want to mess with her?"
"That is none of your business."
Ukraine froze.
Then, incredulous:
"Do you like Kro?"
"I don't owe you an explanation. Do your mission and let me do mine."
"Damn it, man—she's basically a ghost! You want to mess with a ghost too? What is wrong with—"
"TREAT HER WITH RESPECT!" Song snapped. "DON'T INSULT HER!"
Ukraine stared at the phone like it had caught fire.
"And you're crazy. Are all the living women gone? Oh, sorry—my mistake. Dead girls are your type now."
"HEY!"
"She's going to find out about this mission very soon if you keep showing up in front of her like yesterday! She'll know who you are, who I am, who Grandpa and Grandma are. I don't even know what she'll do to us!"
"If you're scared, then back off," Song said coldly. "Nobody forced you into this."
Ukraine took a breath through his nose.
Then, very carefully:
"When did this start?"
Song didn't answer.
"When? When you saw the photographs? Two years ago?"
There was a beat.
Then Song said, quietly and without shame:
"Thirty years ago."
Ukraine straightened so fast the chair creaked.
"What?"
"She came to one of my presentations," Song said. "I fell in love with her that day. Ever since then, I've wanted her. And now, after waiting all these years, I finally have a chance."
Ukraine covered his face with one hand.
"I don't mean this cruelly," he said, voice strangled, "but then what? She doesn't even remember you."
Song exploded.
"SHE WAS GOING TO BE YOUR MOTHER!"
Ukraine nearly choked.
"Dad, stop this. Please. This is insane. It's a bad idea from every possible direction."
"I think this conversation is over," Song said icily. "Good night."
"Dad—Dad, wai—"
The call ended.
Ukraine stared at the silent phone in disbelief.
Then he groaned and dragged both hands down his face.
That conversation had done nothing except worsen everything.
"I need a long shower," he muttered.
And maybe, he thought darkly, an exorcism for his entire bloodline.
...
Azaradan
The Palace — Night
Kro stood outside the crown prince's chamber with her sword in hand.
It was bitterly cold.
The night air pierced right through her leather armor and settled in her bones. She trembled faintly, though she would have denied it if anyone asked. Soldiers did not complain about the cold. They endured it.
Tonight was her first night guarding Buk.
She was waiting for him to finish bathing and dress warmly so they could begin the evening walk he loved so much.
The chamber door slid open. A maid hurried out, saw Kro's back, and immediately assumed she was a man.
"Sir, the crown prince is requesting your presence—"
"Sir?" Kro repeated, turning around in surprise.
The maid's eyes widened.
She bowed at once.
"I'm sorry! I didn't realize it was you, Captain Kro."
"It's alright. Lead the way."
But the maid did not move.
She stayed right where she was, still blocking the path.
Kro narrowed her eyes.
"What is it? You said the crown prince requested me."
The maid looked mortified.
"I thought you were a man. The prince… needs someone there while he takes his bath."
Kro stared.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"The crown prince dismissed the maids responsible for his bath. He asked specifically for you to handle it."
"Oh my."
The maid turned and hurried inside. Kro had no choice but to follow.
She was shown the prince's robe, oils, brushes, combs, hair ties—an absurd collection of intimate items she had never imagined being asked to manage.
She nodded mechanically while the maid explained.
Inside, she felt like a child dragged into a ritual she did not understand.
"That is all, Captain," the maid said finally. "I'll take my leave."
"Aren't you supposed to stay?"
"No. It's the crown prince's order."
Then Buk's voice called from inside the bath chamber.
"KRO! COME INSIDE WITH MY ROBE!"
The maids fled.
Kro stood there for one helpless second, robe hanging from her hands.
Then she forced herself forward.
She had spent her whole life around soldiers, warriors, wounded men. Nudity had never shocked her. She had seen men dressing, bathing, bleeding, dying.
But this was different.
This was strange.
The prince reclined in a large wooden bath, warm water rising around him, entirely too pleased with himself. Kro kept her head lowered.
She did not want to see more skin than necessary.
"How's this?" Buk asked. "Warm enough?"
His thoughtful nature had seen through Kro's hidden endurance. Standing outside, clearly she was freezing. Ordering her to come inside was his way of taking care of her.
Kro nodded.
"Yes, my prince."
"I knew it. It's freezing outside, though. Maybe I should stay in tonight. Or perhaps we should walk anyway. What do you think?"
"Both options sound fine."
"But which would you choose?"
"My opinion doesn't matter."
"It matters to me."
Kro hesitated.
Then answered honestly.
"A walk. The night is cold, but it's calm. Beautiful, too. It would be relaxing."
Buk smiled.
"Then we'll walk."
Kro nodded again, her gaze still carefully lowered.
"You know," he said, "I find you fascinating. Every woman I've met preferred beauty or cooking or gardens. I don't understand why you chose to become a soldier."
"I was born this way, my prince."
"Then becoming captain proves you are extraordinary."
She said nothing.
Buk watched her, delighted by every second she remained in that room.
"I want you to teach me how to fight."
That made Kro finally glance up.
"I will hurt you."
Buk laughed.
"And why is that?"
"My training is the hardest thing a man could go through. You won't walk properly for days."
"And you think I can't survive that?"
Kro's mouth tilted.
"I think I'm not ready to watch you cry in front of a woman."
Buk burst into laughter.
Real, loud, delighted laughter.
It went on longer than the joke deserved, but he didn't care. Every time he looked at her, he wanted to laugh again—not because she was funny, but because he was so absurdly happy she was there.
To him, Kro was the closest thing to perfection he had ever seen.
And now she was within reach.
***