Night crept over the academy like spilled ink, soaking the tiled rooftops in deep shades of blue. Lanterns flickered to life one by one, their warm glow spreading across the courtyard. Students gathered for dinner, laughter echoing across the stone paths.
Hana walked beside Woojin, every sense alert.
"Which direction?" she asked quietly.
Woojin kept his eyes ahead as if discussing nothing more than the weather. "East gate. Fourth column."
Her pulse tightened. That was exactly where the assassin couriers waited for signals. Exactly where Master Yoon would stand if he had come for her.
They entered the dining hall, the smell of steamed rice and braised beef filling the room. Scholars clamored around the long wooden tables, waving chopsticks and gossiping loudly. Nothing about this place belonged to the world Hana came from.
Woojin picked a corner table with a clear view of the windows. Of course he did.
They sat. Hana pretended to open her food container.
Woojin didn't even try to hide it. He was studying her.
"You're too calm," he said.
Hana lifted her gaze slowly. "Should I scream?"
"No." His expression didn't soften. "But your breathing hasn't changed. Not once."
She wanted to tell him that trained assassins don't breathe loudly when danger approaches. Their bodies don't tremble. Their hands don't shake.
Fear could be punished.
Emotion could be beaten out.
Calm was the only acceptable thing she had ever learned.
Instead, she shrugged. "I adapt fast."
Woojin didn't believe her, but before he could comment, a young scholar nearly slammed into their table.
"Senior Seon!" he gasped. "Instructor Nam wants to see you—urgent."
Woojin's jaw tightened. "Now?"
"Yes. He's waiting outside."
Woojin turned to Hana. "Don't leave this hall."
Hana raised a brow—his tone was sharper than usual. "I can protect myself."
Woojin leaned closer, voice a low warning. "Maybe. But whoever followed you this morning wasn't a common spy. He disappeared at the exact moment I tried to track him."
Hana's breath caught.
Only trained assassins could do that. Master Yoon was here.
Woojin straightened. "Stay where there are people."
He walked out before she could answer.
Hana stared at the rice bowl in front of her but didn't taste a single bite.
If Master Yoon was here, what did he want?
To threaten her?
To force her back?
To punish her for defecting—if the organization even suspected?
A hand suddenly waved in front of her face.
"Haneul? Hello?" Lady Soyeon raised a brow, lips pursed in irritation. "You didn't hear me? I asked if I could sit here."
Hana blinked. "You can sit. It's not my table."
Soyeon sat with a huff, smoothing her lavender sleeve. "Honestly. You men are all the same. A little attention from Senior Seon and your head is gone."
Hana blinked. "Attention?"
Soyeon scoffed. "He doesn't let anyone eat with him. And now you're following him around like some loyal puppy."
Hana stared. "I wasn't following—"
"Save it." Soyeon flicked her hair. "Just don't cause problems. Senior Seon is preparing for the Crown Prince's evaluation next week. He doesn't have time for—whatever you are."
Hana raised a brow, amused despite herself. Soyeon's jealousy was almost charming.
But then she felt it.
A shift.
Barely-there movement near the entrance of the dining hall.
Someone watching her.
Her heart dropped into her stomach.
She didn't look immediately—didn't want to alert them—but she could feel the gaze like a blade pressed to her back.
Master Yoon.
He wouldn't approach her here. Not in a crowded hall. Not unless he wanted witnesses.
She kept her face neutral and lifted a spoonful of rice as if nothing was wrong.
But her hand shook the tiniest bit.
Soyeon noticed. "What's wrong with you?"
Hana set the spoon down. "Too hot."
"…It's warm at best."
Hana didn't respond. She focused instead on controlling her breathing, lowering her heart rate, keeping her pulse steady.
Her training whispered through her mind like old ghosts.
Stay calm. Stay invisible. Blend. Observe.
After a slow count of ten, she rose.
Soyeon frowned. "Where are you going?"
"Air," Hana muttered. "Too crowded."
Soyeon waved her away. "Go. Just don't vomit on me."
Hana exited the dining hall, keeping her steps steady, casual. The warm lanterns cast soft circles of light on the ground.
The academy was too quiet.
Behind her, the dining hall noise dimmed.
To her left, the moonlight spilled across the courtyard like water.
And leaning against the fourth column of the east gate—
—stood a shadow.
Unmoving. Waiting.
Her blood turned to ice.
Master Yoon.
He didn't wear the courier disguise this time. Instead, he wore a plain scholar's robe, but the posture was unmistakable—relaxed yet prepared to strike.
Hana approached slowly until she was within ten paces.
"Master," she said softly.
The man lifted his head. His face was calm, almost kind, but Hana knew better—he had killed students younger than her without blinking.
"So," Master Yoon murmured. "You really are alive."
Hana's chest tightened. "I left the organization."
"You didn't leave." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "You ran."
Hana clenched her jaw. "I'm not going back."
Master Yoon stepped forward. "Your choices don't matter. Orders come from above. You are property. You will always return."
"No," Hana whispered.
"Yes."
Master Yoon lifted his hand, and Hana dropped instinctively into a guarded stance. She didn't draw a weapon—she couldn't, not here—but every muscle prepared to dodge.
A soft laugh broke the tension.
"Relax, child. I didn't come to retrieve you."
She froze.
Master Yoon's eyes sharpened with cruel amusement.
"I came to warn you."
Hana's pulse hammered. "Warn me?"
"The organization discovered something about this academy." His voice lowered. "Someone important here is involved in a conspiracy against the royal family."
Hana stiffened. "Who?"
"I don't know yet. But they suspect the Crown Prince himself plans to purge certain political clans." Master Yoon's eyes gleamed. "Your orders are simple. Stay close to Scholar Seon Woojin. Watch him."
Hana's breath caught.
"…Why him?"
Master Yoon stepped closer, his voice a whisper.
"Because Seon Woojin is not what he pretends to be."
Hana froze.
Master Yoon smiled. "There is a reason he observes everything. A reason he notices footsteps, breathing, movements no normal scholar senses."
Hana felt her heart thud painfully.
"What are you saying?"
Master Yoon's smile widened. "Scholar Seon Woojin is not merely talented."
"We believe he is connected to the secret intelligence bureau under the Crown Prince's command."
Hana's blood ran cold.
The Crown Prince's intelligence bureau—shadow investigators trained to root out traitors, spies, and assassins.
If Woojin was one of them…
He would discover her lies.
Her past.
Her identity.
Everything.
Master Yoon leaned in, voice cutting like a blade. "Now you understand why the organization wants eyes on him."
Hana's knees felt weak.
"He's dangerous," Master Yoon continued. "More dangerous than you. More dangerous than me."
Hana's breath shook. "If he is so dangerous, why order me to go near him?"
"Because you are our most adaptable weapon." Master Yoon narrowed his gaze. "And because he is already watching you."
Her heart dropped.
Master Yoon straightened his robe. "You will send a message in seven days. Use the old signal. If you fail—"
His eyes hardened, turning merciless.
"—I will return, and you will leave with me. Whether you walk or bleed."
Then he vanished into the shadows.
Hana stood frozen, body trembling despite her training.
Woojin.
The quiet, observant scholar…
The one who read her reactions like open pages…
The one who walked beside her as if he already knew she was dangerous…
He was an intelligence operative?
No wonder he noticed everything.
Her mind raced. Everything he'd said earlier… all the questions… the sword practice… his warning… They all made sense now.
A soft crunch of gravel behind her made her spin—
Woojin stepped out of the shadows.
Her heart nearly stopped.
"Who were you talking to?" he asked.
Hana's pulse roared in her ears.
Woojin's expression was unreadable, his posture calm—but his eyes… his eyes were sharp as steel.
"Haneul," he said quietly. "Don't lie."
Hana swallowed. "It was no one."
Woojin stared at her for a long, heavy moment.
"You're shaking."
Her breath hitched.
Woojin took another step closer, lowering his voice.
"Whoever he is… he's not gone."
Hana's throat tightened.
Woojin's eyes narrowed. "Tell me who's threatening you."
"I can handle it."
"No," Woojin said softly. "You can't."
She blinked. "What?"
Woojin stepped into the moonlight, his jaw tight.
"Because the man you talked to…" he said slowly, "…he's been watching the academy since dawn."
Hana's blood turned cold.
Woojin's voice dropped even lower.
"And I've been watching him."
Their eyes locked.
Her heart hammered with fear, confusion, and something else she didn't have words for.
Woojin stepped closer until the moonlight hit his eyes.
"Kim Haneul," he whispered. "If you don't tell me the truth now…"
He reached out slowly—his fingers stopping just short of her hand.
"…you won't survive what comes next."
Hana's breath shattered.
And for the first time since entering the academy, she didn't know how to move, how to breathe, or how to lie.
She only knew one thing:
The world around her was about to burn.