That night, the wind creeping into Areum's room seemed to carry with it the growing weight on her shoulders. The lost heirloom necklace. The threatening note that bore only one chilling sentence: "The truth will kill you before you ever uncover it."
She told no one. Not Yu Jin, not Ji Seong, not even Wang Joon. The more who knew, the greater the risk. And Areum couldn't bear to endanger anyone else.
She clutched her blanket tightly. "I need to find the answers myself," she whispered to herself. "Even if I have to do it alone."
The next morning, Wang Joon stood at Areum's door. He watched her combing her hair in front of the mirror, but something was missing from her reflection. Her smile.
"There's something weighing on your mind," he said gently.
Areum turned, trying to hide her unease behind a faint smile. "Just tired."
But Wang Joon's eyes never lied. He could feel the distance she had built, like an invisible wall keeping intimacy at bay in the past few days.
"If there's anything—"
"I'll tell you," Areum cut him off quickly before standing up. "But for now, let me walk alone for a bit. I just need some air."
Wang Joon let her go. But his heart throbbed with worry.
Areum made her way to the most secluded corner of the old palace, an area rarely visited. She opened a nearly-rotted wooden door behind the old kitchen—following a clue found in Seol Hwa's belongings.
A narrow stone staircase led down into a damp, silent basement. The smell of decaying wood and wet earth greeted her. With a small torch in hand, Areum traced the walls, covered in ancient symbols. Some of them resembled the patterns on her lost necklace.
At the end of the room, a steel chest was embedded into the stone wall. Areum exhaled quietly, and with utmost care, she unlocked it.
Inside lay an old manuscript. The black ink had faded but remained legible. Seol Hwa's handwriting—poetic, coded.
"The bearer of true blood shall be the key.
But the traitor in shadow never dies.
The Flower of Three Seasons will bloom again,
And the palace will burn once more."
Areum sighed. "The Flower of Three Seasons?"
It sounded like a codename… or a secret organization.
She locked the chest again and prepared to leave, but before she could ascend the stairs, the sound of footsteps echoed against the stone floor.
"Who's there?" Areum called out firmly, masking her panic.
No reply. Only the shadow of a man standing at the foot of the stairs.
"Areum," the voice was deep and low. "You're getting too close to the truth."
Areum gripped her torch, ready to defend herself.
"Perhaps," the voice continued, "it's time you stopped… before history repeats its tragedy."
And before Areum could clearly see his face, he vanished into the darkness—leaving her heart pounding not only with fear, but with a growing thirst to uncover who she truly was… and why all this was happening because of her.
END OF CHAPTER 38