A week ago…

                  Joonmyun promised me he would lend me Genbu’s full-power if I helped him stole the throne. That was our first deal, but after everything that happened, including that ty comeback from Grandfather, we another deal. Now, one might think that best friends did not do that , but we did. Joonmyun loved deals. He loved tricking me like he was the Devil, but he had never cheated me with any of my wishes. All was fair and square, so I trusted him. Our other deal included dealing with Grandfather and we realised it wouldn’t be as easy as dealing with Kim Minseok.

                  Grandfather was smart and slimy. That much was obvious. He was hard to predict, even for someone as smart as Joonmyun. About a week after the Elders’ beheading, we managed to track his whereabouts through my new assistant, Lee Sungyeol, born in Iraq near Byakko’s headquarter. He located and described the chronological of Grandfather’s schedule and hacked the Byakko’s system very quietly. For one and a half year, we had been tracking his movements, but his return to Seoul took us by surprise.

                  It coincided with Minseok’s arrival, and that would disrupt our plan. I was a bit pessimistic at first, but seeing that he lied low from spotlight, I calmed my anxious heart and proceeded with Joonmyun’s plan because it seemed to be the most important thing. It was until I met Kim Jongin, that day in the Blue House that I realised the seriousness of this plan – more so than ever before. It wasn’t about Jongin himself, but the fact that Grandfather planted him – his most favoured spy – to the President’s side. He was most definitely ready to attack, and all he needed was a bit more time to perfect his plan.

                  If his plan succeeded, the whole world, not just the other three clans, would put the blame on me. The murder of Mrs. President sounded like a good headline, and it would certainly be classified as a national crisis. Commoners might not know about Seiryuu, but the heads of military and directors of government’s departments would push me to act upon the crisis. They would deem me useless, and I could imagine a hoard of angry demonstrations to shake me off of my current position. By then, I could not seek any help from others and would be forced to resign.

                  It all sounded perfect. Even Joonmyun agreed that this was a cruel attack. Grandfather would not show up and use others for his own benefit. I insisted that this was the way he had always worked, so we reached a common ground to speed things up so Joonmyun could gain full control of Genbu. He seemed to have calculated everything even before I suggested the idea to him, so we worked in full secrecy with no one else knowing, not even Luhan, or Taeil and Kun.

                  Even before Minseok’s dethronement, Joonmyun had placed emphasis on the temporary hide-out’s security, where most Elders and Council members stayed. He rebuilt a secret headquarter near Malaysia and Singapore’s border to avoid suspicion, for he knew that Minseok would be looking for the easy way out. He didn’t want to deal with Minseok’s mess when he got crowned. The two-thousand elites Minseok brought to Seoul was unharmed, though my action on that day seemed to make it look as if they were dying. A total of ten thousand elites from their training centre was split apart into ten countries of Southeast Asia to guard the border alongside of the ASEAN governments.

                  For the mean time, a combination of his elites and mine would be equal to Suzakku’s army, which meant that we had at least five thousand more people than Byakko. But we didn’t know what Byun Baekhyun was up to lately. He seemed to be pretty busy in his headquarter, working on something new – according to Sungyeol’s latest observation. He wasn’t even mad that five of his precious Shadow fighters were killed in the Seiryuu’s attack. It seemed like a decoy to something bigger, but since we had no idea what it would be, I could only wait and defend. It was not wise to attack first when Genbu was still recovering from their loss. We should wait for a few months and kill Grandfather first.

                  These thoughts were constantly bothering me, even when I went back to my boring day job with Kim Jongin by the sides of the President. I moved out of the headquarter for a short getaway to clear my head up of Oh Sehun, only to be distracted by Jongin. Sometimes, he really seemed awfully happy, and it was never a good thing for me, just like today. When he thought that the President was out of hearing range, he would smirk at me outside of the meeting room, like he knew something I didn’t.

                  “Wipe that lecherous grin off of your face, Kim Jongin. It’s disgusting,” I scowled and e blind eye as I stared forward, counting the hours before I got to go back home to my peaceful little apartment. Living alone was definitely not easy, but it was more peaceful without my usual chatty Elites. I loved them, but at times, I needed seclusion to think clearly. Unfortunately, that privilege only lasted from dusk to dawn, because Kim Jongin was a form of disturbance I could not ignore.

                  “Ouch. That certainly hurts. Can’t find a better word to describe my smile, Princess?”

                  In my entire life, I only allowed Jongin to call me by Princess, discounting Luhan’s Chinese nickname ‘gongju’, which he had stopped using since two years ago. I didn’t know why I couldn’t refute him for calling me with something so endearing, but I convinced myself that I probably didn’t care enough to. Jongin’s self-loving was at times hilarious, and even when I wanted to disagree with it, he seemed entitled to it – as most girls would agree. Not many men were born with that kind of brag-able good look.

                  “Unfortunately, I can’t seem to think of anything more hurtful, Kim Jongin,” I glowered at him with a huff. Initially, I tried to ignore him for the sake of our work, but he never failed to amuse me with his ways of annoying me at every chance he got. He seemed to have perfected the art of annoying someone, and he should be the most suitable candidate to write a book titled ‘How I Annoyed Yoon Sena to Death and Beyond’. I foresee an award for that ty book because of how truly relatable it was.

                  “Don’t be so cold-hearted, Sena. We were good before, weren’t we?” He raised his perfectly-trimmed eyebrows with a flirtatious grin, and I admitted that as much as I hated it, my heart skipped a beat when he did. It was so inevitable. If he knew the effect he still had on me – and maybe he did – I would forever be doomed. I would bury myself in shame and threw myself to the oceans of sharks and never be found again. “You seem to hate me so. Why? Because of that failed new year celebration?”      

                  He would try to reason with me and come up with a thousand excuses to justify his wrongdoings. Oh God, I wished to stab him. I wanted to open up his ribcage and ensured myself if he really owned a heart. A pity for such a beautiful-looking man. But then again, most good-looking single guys were bastards, and this, I spoke from experience. I should ignore him. Ignored the way he tried to bring up that sensitive subject and glossed over it easily. Ignored him until I ceased to remember. But he wouldn’t leave me in peace.

                  “Not sure if the word ‘failed’ could describe what you did to me, Kim Jongin. Perhaps something is wrong with your memory. Do I need to remind you what happened? Hm?” I sarcastically rolled my eyes and folded my hands. “Oh right – You pointed a gun at my fiancée, schemed with my enemy, brought them to the ship and shot me on the chest! Would you like to see the scars, Kim Jongin? You sure as hell would be proud of it. I mean… You always wanted to kill me. Perhaps the fact that I’m alive has sorely disappointed you.”

                  He turned away for a moment, seemingly a bit pale and guilty.

                  “What if I tell you I can make up for it?”

                  He smiled bewitchingly. I wanted to slap him so badly, until Mrs. President came out of the meeting room with her usual steely expression. Both of us shut up and straightened our crinkled blazer to follow her along. She seemed quite unhappy today, and we wouldn’t want to be scolded and treated as a punching bag to her anger.

                  This president was a little bit quirky. She disliked things too organised and too messy – everything had to be a balance between. She liked her drink cold, especially black coffee, which she preferred to enjoy an hour before the sun went down, said that it would help her sleep better at night. Mrs. President also happened to like traditional Korean instrumentals, playing it loudly whenever she is working in her grand office. She was an extreme feminist, who secretly thinks that woman in-power would turn the world for the better. She absolutely disliked having her speech interrupted, and she hated office-romance, in whatever form there was, so she made sure to watch Jongin and I with hawk eyes.

                  She thought something was going on between the two of us – like a secret rendezvous. She always accused us with her sharp, almond-shaped eyes, thinking that we would sneak off kissing whenever we had the chance to. I always called myself paranoid, but this president was even more so. She was highly suspicious of everyone, except for Lieutenant General Han, who seemed to be a frequent visitor of her office. Speaking of him, I hadn’t seen him in a long while. Rumours had it that he was facing some sort of mid-life crisis, though he certainly had passed the age of that.

                  “You, Kim Sara, hand me my next schedule,” Mrs. President commanded loudly and glanced at Jongin, reprimanding him with a whiny, high-pitched voice that almost sounded motherly had it not been her chilly expression, “You, stop flirting with her. I know you are young and passionate, but be professional. This is your workplace, such behaviour is intolerable and inappropriate.”

                  When I took up this job, I didn’t expect to cover a double role as a bodyguard and a part-time assistant. They certainly didn’t increase my salary for that – though money wasn’t really a concern for me. The government was really stingy. They couldn’t even spare a cent more for this lowly job. I felt bad. I handed over the A5 notepad to her waiting hand, and she clicked her tongue, still dissatisfied at my slow reaction and Jongin’s absence of emotion. After being scolded openly, he didn’t show any remorse, simply staring blankly at her until she looked away uncomfortably.

                  “We weren’t… flirting, Mrs. President,” I whispered and she immediately glared at me.

                  “I wasn’t asking you. I was asking him. You don’t have to cover up for this boy,” She pushed up her reading glasses snobbishly and refused to acknowledge the two of us any further. We had probably served our purposes today as her punching bag. I secretly gave Jongin my middle finger, which amused him greatly because we were still walking behind the President when I showed him such indecency. I regret nothing. The President was probably even more suspicious now.

                  “The deal,” I mouthed at him.

                  Jongin’s lips formed a grin, almost too beautiful for a shady man like him. He fished out something from his fine-tailored pocket – a name card and an address to go to. It wasn’t that hard to guess what he wanted. “Tonight. You must come. I will tell you everything you want to know.”

                  “Professionalism must not be a criteria when they were looking for the two of you,” The President whipped around with a heavy frown as she corrected us. I blamed Jongin for speaking so loudly, but whilst the President was talking, I quickly slipped the card and the details into my pants’ pocket. It didn’t sound good, but I was far too curious to let it pass up now. It was a chance to know what Grandfather was planning for, even if it meant going to the enemy’s dent for tonight.