Overwhelmed with grief, Genie had nodded through the storm of tears.
"Yes, Father… I will."
Relief washed over his weary features, softening them, bringing a faint, peaceful smile to his lips. "Thank you… my daughter…"
She squeezed his hand, desperate not to let go.
But at that moment… she felt it.
His hand went limp.
The warmth of his life slipped through her fingers like water, leaving only stillness behind.
"Father…"
Choking on her grief, struggling to keep breathing herself, Genie had whispered one last prayer into the silent room.
"Dear God… I believe… that You will watch over my father in heaven…"
Now, as she walked that path of pure white snow, with the cold wind brushing against her cheeks, she carried his final words within her heart like a hidden flame.
At the break of a freezing winter dawn, the palace lay hushed beneath a pristine veil of snow. The training grounds, usually empty at such an hour, now bore witness to an unusual gathering. Queen Genie stood tall amid the frost, clad in a tailored military uniform that whispered both grace and resolve. Behind her, her maidservants and royal guards watched in reverent silence, their breath curling like smoke into the brittle morning air.
Queen Genie stood alone at the range, a bow cradled in her hands. Her breath was steady, her eyes locked on a distant tree where a narrow ring marked the bullseye. Among the onlookers, Chief Han observed her closely, a quiet awe softening the lines of his seasoned face.
'She must be exhausted, he thought, The late King was laid to rest only hours ago... Yet here she is. Her Majesty's spirit is unshakable.'
The Queen's gaze never wavered. In her eyes, the tiny ring on the tree seemed to grow, looming like a giant wheel, drawing her focus deeper. Without a word, she pulled back the string—taut, deliberate—and released.
Piiiiing! Whoosh!
The arrow sliced through the morning stillness, a blur of precision, and struck dead center.
A ripple of admiration ran through the gathering. Polite applause broke the silence as the guards and maidservants exchanged glances of amazement. Queen Genie turned and raised a gloved hand, her cheeks tinged with the faintest blush.
"Please," she said with a small, awkward smile, "don't clap. You'll embarrass me—I won't be able to concentrate."
Chief Han stepped forward, her voice rich with quiet reverence. "Your Majesty, this is amazing. I've seen the lights burning in the archery yard at night. It's clear how diligently you've trained."
Genie offered a modest smile, humility woven into every gesture. Wordlessly, she stooped to retrieve another arrow from the quiver resting in the snow. As she straightened, the first rays of sunlight crowned her in gold.
The Queen stood poised, the morning sun catching the curve of her bow, her silhouette radiant and commanding.
After the morning's archery practice beneath the pale winter sky, Queen Genie made her way back toward the King's chamber, her boots crunching softly against the snow-laden path. The cold air lingered around her like a veil, but her thoughts were elsewhere—heavy, urgent, and tinged with guilt.
Walking beside her, Chief Han kept a respectful pace, attentive to the silence that hung between them until the Queen finally spoke. "I realized something today," Genie said quietly, not breaking her stride. "I never gave a proper banquet—or even a moment of recognition—to those who fought in the battle against Ash Kingdom. I was so caught up in the chaos of Father's death... and the aftermath... I failed to do what I should've, as Queen."
Chief Han bowed her head slightly as he walked behind her, her voice calm and reassuring.
"No, Your Majesty. You've done everything within your power—balancing the demands of national crisis with mourning. No one could expect more."
But Genie's sigh was soft and lingering, as if it carried the weight of every sleepless night.
"I just hope those who risked their lives aren't disappointed in my silence. I fear they might think I've forgotten them."
From behind, Lady Park, walking with the court ladies in quiet procession, finally spoke. "No one harbors any resentment, Your Majesty. Everyone knows how much you've sacrificed for this kingdom. Still—since Your Majesty has brought it up—perhaps we could organize a proper luncheon for the soldiers?"
Genie paused, turning slightly to glance over her shoulder. A warm smile lifted the corners of her lips.
"Yes. Please see to it, Lady Park."
Then she turned to Chief Han, her tone both thoughtful and decisive.
"I'd like you to work on the dinner banquet together with Park. Make sure everyone who was on the battlefield is invited."
Chief Han nodded.
"As you command, Your Majesty."
Genie took a few more steps, then stopped, her eyes narrowing slightly as if recalling a detail left behind in the snow.
"Oh—one more thing," she added, glancing back. "Make sure to include those who didn't fight on the front lines, but still contributed—those who crafted weapons, prepared arrows, carried supplies... they fought in their own way."
Lady Park beamed.
"Of course, Your Majesty. You are always so thoughtful."
Genie smiled modestly, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear as they approached the palace steps.
"It's only right. Every effort counts when it comes to protecting the Hana Kingdom. No contribution is too small when peace is bought with so much."
She looked between them both—Park and Han—and gave a grateful nod.
"Thank you. Truly."
And with that, Queen Genie crossed the threshold of the palace, leaving behind footprints in the snow—quiet testimony to a sovereign who carried her crown not only with dignity, but with heart.
The late afternoon sun was low, casting long shadows across the vast training field. The winter wind, sharp and biting, whispered through the trees, but the warriors on the field were focused, their swords flashing in the fading light as they followed Jade's commands.
"All right! Now, stretch out your blades and—"
He paused, his voice cutting through the cold air, but his words halted abruptly as a figure approached from the direction of the Queen's pavilion. Jade's eyes narrowed instinctively.
A court lady, wrapped in the soft folds of royal silks, was making her way across the field. She was clearly on an urgent errand, and Jade immediately recognized the significance of her presence.
The warriors, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, also quieted. Jade's pulse quickened in anticipation, a flutter of curiosity stirring in his chest.
The court lady was here on royal business. His heart skipped as he wondered—was this a summons from the Queen? His thoughts flitted quickly to his own unspoken hopes and the slight nervousness that crept into his mind.
The court lady arrived before him, bowing gracefully, her voice steady but respectful.
"Minister, my apologies for interrupting the training," she said, her tone polite but firm. "Her Majesty sent me to deliver a message."
Jade's eyes widened slightly.
'Her Majesty…'
He couldn't help but wonder what it was that required his immediate attention. His heart thrummed a little faster as he leaned forward, eager to hear her words.
"It's no trouble at all," Jade replied, his voice steady but laced with the faintest edge of anticipation. "Please, go ahead."
The court lady straightened, lifting a delicate scroll from the folds of her sleeve.
"I've come to extend an invitation for tomorrow's dinner at the palace guest hall, where Her Majesty will host a thank-you banquet for all the soldiers who participated in the battle against Ash Kingdom," she announced.
Jade blinked, momentarily taken aback.
'A dinner? Her Majesty is hosting such an event?'
"Tomorrow's dinner?" he repeated, his surprise evident. He hadn't expected such a gesture, especially given the recent grief the Queen had endured.
"Yes," the court lady affirmed with a gentle nod. "Her Majesty wishes to honor not only the soldiers who fought in battle, but also those who provided weapons and military equipment. She has taken great care to ensure that everyone who contributed is acknowledged."
Jade's mind raced, a strange mix of admiration and empathy filling his chest. He had assumed that the Queen's thoughts would be consumed by the mourning of her father, and yet here she was, planning a feast for the kingdom's soldiers—those who had fought to protect the realm.
His heart warmed slightly, touched by the Queen's thoughtfulness. Even in her grief, she was determined to show gratitude to those who had fought alongside her late father. It was a rare and humbling gesture.
"I see," Jade said softly, nodding in acknowledgment. "Thank you for delivering the message."
The court lady gave a respectful bow, her movements graceful.
"Then I shall take my leave. May the rest of your training go smoothly, Minister."
As she turned and walked back toward the pavilion, Jade stood still for a moment, watching her retreating form. The weight of the invitation lingered in his thoughts.
'Her Majesty must still be grieving her father's passing, he mused, and yet she takes the time to honor the soldiers…'
His heart twisted for a brief moment, the depth of her responsibility settling heavy on his chest. He could feel the faintest echo of her pain, the hollow ache of loss that must still cloud her days. And yet, she didn't allow it to overshadow her duty—not to her people, not to the kingdom. The Queen's resilience moved him more than he could express.