The melody slowed.
Her fingers, soaked with tears, moved over the piano keys as if they remembered pain more than music. Her voice trembled — but she sang anyway.
Softly.
THE SONG
(Unreleased. Unspoken. Unforgotten.)
Here are my tears,
Knowing that it is for yours.
Under moonlight,
Singing what I felt, not what I said.
If silence could reach you,
Would it hurt the same?
If I had met you first,
Would I still be afraid…
to fall again?
Here are my tears,
Not asking to be seen.
Only hoping,
You'll hear them between… the quiet.
Each word landed like a prayer on moonlight.
Somewhere in the shadows, Chen's hand twitched — clenched tighter at his side. But he made no sound. He watched, frozen in a moment that felt too real, too dangerous.
The wind carried her voice through the gardens.
And for a breathless second…
It was like time stopped again.
The Sword Falls, The Heart Listens
In the royal training courtyard, lit only by torchlight and moonshine, Prince Chen was alone.
Sweat rolled down his temple as his sword whistled through the air — movement after movement, ruthless and precise.
His blade glowed faintly with dark magical energy, as always.
But then…
A sound.
Soft. Faint. A voice.
"Here are my tears,
Knowing that it is for yours…"
His sword froze mid-strike.
That voice — it wasn't a court singer. It wasn't rehearsed.
It was real.
Untrained.
Raw.
Painfully honest.
Chen's fingers loosened.
With a soft clang, the sword slipped from his grasp and struck the earth.
He looked up — to the sky.
The moon was full, white and solemn.
The voice continued.
"Under moonlight,
Singing what I felt…"
His chest tightened — a strange sensation, foreign and unwelcome.
And then something else.
The swirling black energy around him… stilled.
For the first time in years, his inner power — usually wild and violent — began to quiet. It pulsed gently, aligned with the song.
He closed his eyes, and for the briefest second, he felt it:
Peace.
His breath evened out.
His heartbeat slowed.
For a man trained to kill without mercy, this feeling was dangerous.
But also… addicting.
The Sword Falls, The Heart Listens
In the royal training courtyard, lit only by torchlight and moonshine, Prince Chen was alone.
Sweat rolled down his temple as his sword whistled through the air — movement after movement, ruthless and precise.
His blade glowed faintly with dark magical energy, as always.
But then…
A sound.
Soft. Faint. A voice.
"Here are my tears,
Knowing that it is for yours…"
His sword froze mid-strike.
That voice — it wasn't a court singer. It wasn't rehearsed.
It was real.
Untrained.
Raw.
Painfully honest.
Chen's fingers loosened.
With a soft clang, the sword slipped from his grasp and struck the earth.
He looked up — to the sky.
The moon was full, white and solemn.
The voice continued.
"Under moonlight,
Singing what I felt…"
His chest tightened — a strange sensation, foreign and unwelcome.
And then something else.
The swirling black energy around him… stilled.
For the first time in years, his inner power — usually wild and violent — began to quiet. It pulsed gently, aligned with the song.
He closed his eyes, and for the briefest second, he felt it:
Peace.
His breath evened out.
His heartbeat slowed.
For a man trained to kill without mercy, this feeling was dangerous.
But also… addicting.
The Seal Cracks, The Song Awakens
As Chen stood beneath the moonlight, the final note of Yunxi's voice fading into the night…
A sudden pulse of energy radiated from his chest.
He staggered back, breath caught in his throat.
His seal — the one carved by the royal mages to bind his unstable powers — glowed faintly beneath his skin.
Then… it cracked.
Not with pain.
But with release.
A soft shatter like ice breaking under flame.
The wind shifted around him, circling in tight spirals. His cloak fluttered violently. His eyes glowed for a heartbeat — silver and gold laced with ancient fire.
Magic, old and buried, surged from within.
His assassin instincts screamed for control.
His heart — the part he swore was dead — trembled.
"Why now?"
"Why her?"
And in the deepest layer of his soul, where no swords could reach…
He heard her voice again.
"Here are my tears,
Knowing that it is for yours…"
Somewhere in the palace, Chen froze mid-swing with his sword.
The melody echoed through the night air.
His body trembled. His power surged. The seal around his energy pulsed, cracking just a little more.
He looked up at the moon.
He couldn't explain it —
But he felt her.
The palace was quiet, with the faint rustle of leaves brushing against the stone walls. Yunxi sat in her room, staring out the window at the blooming garden below. The events of the past few days had left her with more questions than answers. Chen's coldness, his distance from everyone—even Princess Roa—weighed heavily on her mind. But above all, there was something else—the feeling that she was being drawn into something much larger than herself.
She had to understand.
No one had been able to give her a straight answer about Chen. His icy demeanour, the way he distanced himself from everyone, was unnerving. Yunxi couldn't shake the feeling that he was hiding something, and more than that, she knew there was more to his story. If there was anyone who could give her a glimpse of the truth, it was Cheonsa.
Cheonsa. The quiet, enigmatic woman who always seemed to appear at the right moment with cryptic words. Yunxi had noticed her lingering presence, watching from the shadows, always with that calm smile and unreadable eyes. There was more to her than met the eye. And today, Yunxi was determined to find out what.
She made her way through the palace corridors, her footsteps echoing in the stillness. The halls were deserted at this hour, giving her the sense that she was intruding on something sacred. When she reached the garden, she spotted Cheonsa standing alone, her back to Yunxi, gazing at the distant mountains.
"Cheonsa," Yunxi called out, her voice soft but firm.
The woman turned slowly, a faint smile curling on her lips. "Ah, Yunxi. I wondered when you'd come." Her voice was melodic, calm—never hurried or nervous. She didn't seem surprised in the least.
"I need to know about Chen," Yunxi said without preamble, stepping closer. "What's his story? Why does he act the way he does? Why does he push everyone away, especially Princess Roa?"
Cheonsa's smile faded slightly, her gaze turning thoughtful. She studied Yunxi for a moment, as if weighing her words carefully.
"Sometimes, the things we hide are the things we fear the most," Cheonsa said, her tone almost too soft, like a whisper carried by the wind. "The prince is not the man you think he is, Yunxi. His heart is bound by chains, ones you cannot see."
Yunxi frowned. "What do you mean? He's... he's cold, but there has to be more. I saw him with Princess Roa—he wasn't like that. He actually cares about her."
Cheonsa's gaze shifted toward the garden, her eyes distant. "Caring for someone doesn't mean you know how to love them. Chen doesn't know how to love, not the way people think of it. He carries too much weight, too many secrets. And he's been hiding from them for far too long."
Yunxi felt a chill at Cheonsa's words. "What secrets?" she whispered. But before Cheonsa could respond, a sudden gust of wind stirred the air around them. The atmosphere shifted, heavy with an unseen presence.
"Do not try to understand what is beyond your reach," Cheonsa warned softly, her voice becoming more serious. "Chen is a prince, yes. But there is much more to him, Yunxi, things even I do not fully understand."
Yunxi's breath caught in her throat. "What do you mean? What is he?"
Cheonsa didn't answer directly. She only smiled faintly, almost sadly, and shook her head. "Some things," she said, her voice soft and almost sorrowful, "are meant to be hidden.
Some hearts cannot be reached until the right time comes."
The words left Yunxi feeling more lost than ever, but she couldn't walk away. The mystery deepened, and despite the coldness that surrounded Chen, there was a pull in her heart—a need to understand him, to understand the truth behind his actions.
"But why is he like this? Why does he push everyone away? Why can't he just—" Yunxi's voice faltered as she looked into Cheonsa's eyes, but the woman's expression remained unchanged.
"Some things," Cheonsa said softly, "are meant to be hidden. Some hearts cannot be reached until the right time comes."
The words hung in the air like an enigma. Before Yunxi could respond, Cheonsa turned to walk away, leaving her standing alone in the garden.
"Wait!" Yunxi called, but Cheonsa didn't turn back.
Yunxi could feel the weight of the conversation pressing down on her, yet more questions swirled in her mind. Chen, the distant prince, wasn't just a man—he was a mystery. Something more, something hidden deep inside him. And Yunxi... she would find the key.
As Yunxi walked back to her chambers, the silence of the palace was broken only by the faint echo of her own footsteps. She had learned little from Cheonsa, but something about the woman's words stuck with her. Chen's heart, locked away in darkness. The secret he carried, buried deep within. And Yunxi... she would find the key.
Princess Roa's Advice
The sun was setting, casting a golden hue across the royal palace as Princess Roa paced back and forth in the private garden, her hands clasped behind her back. Her usual calm demeanour was replaced by something else—a quiet intensity, a determination to make her brother see something he had been blind to for far too long.
Chen stood before her, his arms crossed, his gaze distant. As usual, he looked like a man who could not be bothered, his heart encased in the fortress he had built around it. But Roa knew better. She knew the burden he carried. She also knew that his actions were often misunderstood by others, especially Yunxi.
"Chen," Roa said, her voice soft but firm, "You cannot keep pushing Yunxi away. She's not like the others. You don't have to be cold, you know. You don't have to be the assassin you've convinced yourself you are."
He had always been the stoic one, the protector, the one who carried out the king's commands without question. His heart had been hardened by years of pain, and he couldn't afford to soften it, not for anyone.
But Roa was not easily deterred. "You think your silence and your distance will protect everyone, but it only isolates you. And Yunxi... she's starting to notice. You can see it in her eyes. She's not blind, Chen. She knows you're hiding something. And you can't keep pretending that it's not tearing you apart."
Chen stiffened, but said nothing. He had no answer for her. He didn't know how to explain himself, how to say the things that had been buried deep inside him for years. And there was a part of him that feared letting someone—Yunxi, of all people—see the truth.
"She's not afraid of you, you know," Roa continued, her tone softening. "In fact, she wants to understand you. She wants to see the real you, not the cold prince. But you're making it impossible for her to do that. Why? What are you afraid of?"
Chen turned his face away, looking toward the horizon. The weight of her words hung heavy in the air between them. He knew she was right. He had been pushing Yunxi away, just as he had pushed everyone away for years. And the reason was simple: he didn't know how to let someone in. He didn't know how to love without risking losing everything.
"Roa..." he muttered, his voice low. "I can't—"
"You can," she interrupted gently. "You've always been able to. You just need to let go of the fear. And maybe, just maybe, you'll find that you're not alone. Not anymore."
There was a long silence. Chen looked at his sister, and for the first time, she saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. He didn't speak, but his clenched fists slowly relaxed.
"You don't have to be perfect, Chen," Roa added softly. "You're allowed to make mistakes. You're allowed to trust."
"Trust..." he repeated, his voice almost a whisper. "Can I even do that?"
Roa smiled, her eyes filled with quiet understanding. "You can, if you try. Yunxi is a good person. She's not like the others you've known. She's not here to hurt you. Let her in."
Chen was silent for a moment longer before he nodded, his expression unreadable once more. "I'll try."
Roa gave him a small, approving smile before turning to leave, but not before she added, "Just remember, the more you push her away, the more she'll retreat. Don't lose her because of your own fears."
As Roa walked away, Chen remained in the garden, alone with his thoughts. Her words lingered in his mind, and for the first time in a long while, he found himself questioning everything. Could he really open up? Could he really trust someone again?
And as much as he tried to deny it, the answer kept coming back to the same person: Yunxi.