Chapter Text
I-An stood perfectly still across the room.
His thoughts spiraled endlessly—everything that had happened, everything happening now, and everything that could still happen after tonight.
The Prime Minister’s Office has requested that you cease your official duties.
Aide Do’s words replayed in his head like a curse.
Really, Min Jeongwoo? He felt betrayed.
His expression remained calm, but it was the dangerous kind of calm—the kind stretched so thin it could snap at any second.
So lost in thought, he didn’t hear her approach.
“Your Royal Highness.”
The sound of her voice pulled him back to reality.
Forcing a smile onto his face, he turned toward her.
And there she was.
Eyes red. Tired. Hurt.
Beautiful.
Has she been crying?
She couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a second before looking away. That alone made unease crawl beneath his skin.
Everything clawing at his mind seemed to quiet the moment he saw her. Like her presence alone was enough to steady him. Enough to make him believe things could still be fixed.
“How’s your father doing?”
She didn’t answer.
Instead, she ran to him and wrapped her arms around him as though he might disappear if she let go.
He immediately pulled her close.
Her warmth settled into him like relief after drowning. Like something he hadn’t realized he needed until now. His lifeline.
He let out a quiet breath. “What’s this? A gift?”
For one fleeting moment, he allowed himself to enjoy it—the way she fit against him so naturally, like they had been made for each other from the very beginning.
Then he felt it.
The slight tension in her body.
A hesitation.
She exhaled shakily.
“Your Royal Highness.”
“Yes?”
She lightly pushed him away.
And then she said the words he never wanted to hear.
“Let’s get divorced.”
For a second, he forgot how to breathe.
The way she said it almost sounded rehearsed. Like she had forced herself to practice those words over and over until they no longer hurt to say aloud.
I-An searched her face desperately, looking for anything—a crack in her resolve, hesitation, some sign that she didn’t mean it.
But he knew that expression.
It was the face Seong Huiju made once she had already decided something.
The smile on his lips slowly faded.
His chest tightened so violently it hurt to even just breathe.
“What are you talking about?” he forced out.
He could feel her trembling, but her voice never wavered.
That scared him more than if she had cried. Seong Huiju only sounded this composed when she had already decided there was no turning back.
“I think it's time…” she pauses.
No. Don’t say it. “...we go our separate ways.”
Something inside him broke.
When she turned away from him, he found himself absurdly grateful for it. He didn’t know how much longer he could survive hearing those words while looking at her face.
“Father has fallen ill from stress. The stocks are tanking, and public sentiment is in the mud.”
No, Huiju. Please don’t do this.
Summoning whatever strength he had left, he stepped closer to her.
But the moment she turned around, his legs nearly gave out beneath him.
“I heard there’s a tax audit coming soon. No wonder he’s fallen ill.”
Every word landed with terrifying precision.
Stop.
“I got married to become the successor. But at this rate I wouldn’t even have a place to return to.”
The ache in his chest deepened until it became unbearable.
“I hear what you’re saying, but…”
A lump formed in his throat.
“It’s not your fault. We were both in the wrong.” She cut him off.
“But now, I want to cut my losses.”
Something sharp rose inside him then.
Desperation. Fear. Anger
Anything to stop himself from completely falling apart.
“That’s why you want a divorce? To cut your losses?” his voice now dripping with sarcasm.
“The quickest fix for stuff like this is someone stepping up to take the fall.”
There was certainty in her voice.
Or at least she was trying very hard to sound certain.
“Holding out isn’t always the answer.”
Her eyes still refused to meet his properly.
She’s lying.
Something happened.
“Did something happen while I was gone? Did the Queen Mother—”
She explodes, “Whatever the Queen Mother says to me is none of your concern.”
There it was.
That tone.
Sharp enough to push him away, but not nearly sharp enough to hide how shaken she really was.
“Seong Huiju.”
“I already told you. I’m not afraid of that because I had no honor to begin with.”
Every sentence she spoke felt deliberate, as though she was forcing herself to wound him deeply enough that he would finally let her go.
“Royal dignity, propriety or whatever. I couldn’t care less of any of that crap. Does it even exist?”
He felt sick.
“Seong Huiju!”
He raised his voice. As if it would suddenly make her realize just how absurd this whole conversation is.
“Everything I have actually has substance. They’re things I fought for and claimed by my own hands.”
She matched his tone. He saw her desperation.
Don’t.
“You said the duty of a royal is to be loved. You said that was power.”
His throat tightened.
Because she remembered.
Because she was using his own words against him.
She really knew where it would hurt the most.
Don’t be like that.
“But you lost it all.”
The air finally left his lungs.
“What could you possibly do for me now?”
“Don’t do this.”
His voice cracked quietly beneath the weight of everything he could no longer hide.
Please stop.
Please.
“Not you too…”
“You said you wouldn’t hold me back. You told me to just keep taking.”
He could see it now.
The tears she was desperately trying to keep from falling.
“But I’m just losing everything right now.”
For a brief, terrible moment, he wondered if she had spent the entire time he was away preparing herself to leave him.
“...and yet, you wish to keep me bound to you?”
And with that, the last fragile piece holding him together shattered.
Standing before his brother’s residence, I-An could already feel the pressure building behind his eyes.
“I wish to be alone.”
He dragged himself towards the hall.
As soon as he opened the doors, memories came rushing back all at once—his brother, his father, the years he had spent enduring loss after loss while convincing himself he could survive it.
But this—
This was different.
Because grief for the dead was cruel, but grief for someone still standing right in front of you was unbearable.
The moment the first tear fell, the rest followed mercilessly.
His body shook violently as he broke down.
He hadn’t cried like this in years.
Not even when his brother died.
No one could’ve prepared him for this.
For loving someone so completely that the thought of losing her felt like his entire world collapsing inward.
His breathing turned uneven.
Fragments of the conversation kept replaying in his head no matter how desperately he tried to stop them.
“Let’s get divorced.”
“But now, I want to cut my losses.”
“What could you possibly do for me now?”
Every word sounded sharper now that he was alone.
Because deep down, he knew her well enough to recognize what she had been doing.
He knew she was trying to make him hate her.
And that hurt him even more.
A broken sound escaped his throat as he pressed a trembling hand against his eyes.
All this time, he thought if he fought hard enough—against the palace, against public opinion, against the system itself—then eventually he could protect the life they wanted together.
But tonight, for the first time, he realized there was one thing he could never fight against.
Her decision.
Because Seong Huiju was the first thing he had ever truly wanted for himself.
Not power.
Not duty.
Not the throne.
He knew all of those things were fleeting. Temporary titles inherited by blood and upheld by public favor. These things that could be taken from him at any moment.
But her—
She was the only thing that had ever felt real.
The only person who ever made him wish for a future beyond survival.
And for the first time since meeting her, he realized something terrifying.
No matter how hard he fought -
He still might lose her.