Jihyo felt dazed upon hearing Gaya’s demand. The entire meeting had already been a whirlwind for her. The revelation that the decision to go to war was a mistake had already set her off in anger. Jongkook had died for nothing. Men had died for nothing. They entered and died in a war that shouldn’t have happened in the beginning. It was taking every ounce of her patience to remain silent in that room, to not lash out at her brother for the idiocy of deciding to go to war, to not mind the smiles that Insung threw her way. She wanted to run away, wanted to find safety in the summer palace, but she knew that the summer palace would never be the same.

To top it all off, the one thing that she and Jongkook feared has finally come. But this was worse, because it was not like she could fend off this proposal for political marriage. In the past, she had the freedom to delay these things, enlisting the help of her brother, when she obviously didn’t like the man that the ministers were suggesting. But, this time, she had no choice.

This was a demand for reparations, and the political marriage must happen for the countries to be reconciled. She won’t have a hand in who she marries; the Gaya court, for all they could care, could set her up with an extremely old and senile leader from a polity to the west, and she couldn’t do anything about it.

She wanted to cry. She wasn’t even done grieving Jongkook’s death, and now, as if the universe wanted her to suffer even further, she had to take another man’s hand in marriage. Everything felt too cruel, and to hold herself together, she clung onto Jongkook’s totem, hidden deep in her pocket. I want you to be happy, he told her. But her mind didn’t know how to fulfill Jongkook’s wish, when her marriage to a stranger was impending, when soon enough, the dream life with Jongkook that she built in her head was finally going to become a memory and never a reality.

The meeting ended as Jihyo was lost in her thoughts, and the ministers flanked out after the King. The men of Gaya also moved out, and just before leaving, Insung gave her a smile and said, “It was great seeing you, your highness. I’ll probably see you around while we are here?”

Jihyo forced herself to wear a smile on her face, but her voice was still shaking when she replied, “Ah yes, Insung-ssi. I’ll see you around.”

She exited the room afterwards, and stormed her way into the King’s chambers. It was a familiar sight; she demanded the eunuch to announce her presence, but she didn’t even wait for the servants before barging into the King’s chambers. Like before, Kwangsoo knew this was coming, and he was once again sitting behind his desk. But he was the farthest from being calm.

“Noona…” Kwangsoo said, his eyes shaking as Jihyo entered the room.

Unfortunately for him, Jihyo wasn’t feeling particularly remorseful for him. She was at wits’ end in all her frustration, and the resentment against Kwangsoo she successfully bottled up had finally broken loose. “No, you don’t get to wallow in sadness this time, Kwangsoo. The last time I was here, you told me this war was worth it… you told me it was necessary… and I believed you.”

She started pacing now, “I never told you because I didn’t want you to feel bad about the decision, but did you know how painful it was to say goodbye to Jongkook? It physically hurt, Kwangsoo. I felt like a lunatic wondering if he was coming back alive, and I felt horrible because I wanted to hold him back from his duty.”

Kwangsoo looked at his sister, the tears were now steadily flowing down her face. He had never seen her like this. Save for the time after the war had been declared, Jihyo had always been his strength, and she had always been calm despite any adversity. He had seen her lifeless when Jongkook left and when they found out about his death, but he had never seen her break down, not like this. But he felt trapped, because he made an irreparable mistake, and the only repair for it also meant dealing another cruel card to her.

Jihyo wanted to lash out even further, but after she said the words, she saw how her brother’s face looked twice as downtrodden. Her eyes softened, and while she was still angry, she felt the resentment seep away. She caught herself, and, as her emotions settled down, she was grounded by the realization that everything was just a cruel twist of events. Surely, all of them could have done something different along the way that would have led them away from this outcome. Kwangsoo could have looked further into Minister Kang’s suspicion. Jihyo could have questioned the king’s decision further. Jongkook could have escaped or won the battle at Seongsan Gaya. But, there was no use dwelling on that. She could cry, she could get mad at Kwangsoo, but nothing would change. Things have already turned out the way they have.

Jihyo forcefully wiped her tears away with her sleeves. She took a deep breath, “I am not here to ask you anything, Kwangsoo. The mistake has already been made, and I know where my duty lies. I know what I’m supposed to do, so just do what you have to do.”

“But, noona…” Kwangsoo tried to reason out, but he also lost his words. He didn’t have anything to say past that. He had been scouring his mind for the last half hour thinking of a way out, but there wasn’t any. He made his bed, and he had to lay in it.

“What else can we do Kwangsoo? We are not in a position to negotiate with Gaya because we already acknowledged our wrongdoing. If they want a political marriage, you know who’s supposed to take that on. It’s never going to be Somin; that was never the plan,” Jihyo said, her words seeking to bring him back to reality. But a part of herself felt heavier as she heard herself.

Kwangsoo kept her silence, as Jihyo fell to the ground, unable to carry her weight while standing up. There was a bit of silence, as the conversation’s conclusion was becoming clearer for both of them. Unable to take his guilt, a tear escaped Kwangsoo’s eyes, and he said in a low whisper, “I’m really sorry Noona. If I could change things, I really would.”

Jihyo smiled sadly at her brother, knowing that her brother would do anything for her if only he could. But this decision was not just about her anymore, and they don’t have any other recourse. “It’s okay Kwangsoo-yah,” she tried to placate him. “We’re going to be okay.”

As she said the words, she silently prayed that they would come true.

Taehyun paced around his room, not knowing what to do with the news the emissary just shared. He hated going to the confederate court, and was initially elated that the recent attack was a perfect excuse to miss meeting with the rest of the Gaya leaders. But, suddenly, the recent news made him wish he went to there himself. 

“Yet another political marriage… as if that’s going to help the rest of us,” Taehyun said to no one, as he read the report he just received. In his view, just getting back their territories and exacting resources from Silla would be enough to already repair the trust lost. A political marriage didn’t seem necessary, but he had his suspicions who was taking this opportunity.

The real question was whether to tell Jongkook. Taehyun didn’t know the full state of affairs in Silla, and he was not sure if Princess Jihyo was likely to be the tribute in a political marriage. Jongkook was doing better. But, in Taehyun’s eyes, he was still on the road to recovery, with no real plans for what to do as of yet. But this news was a game changer.

As he pondered what to do, he remembered the look of betrayal on Jongkook’s face when Taehyun said he single-handedly decided to save his life, even at the cost of his honor. It was a  decision Taehyun would never regret, but it did remind him that this decision was not his to make. He trudged towards the guest chambers. 

Jongkook was walking around his room, looking at the items in the shelves, and he had a book in his hand. He looked up at Taehyun, who was still at the door. “I have something to tell you, Jongkook-ah,” Taehyun said, walking towards the stool beside the desk, and prompting Jongkook to sit down as well.

Taehyun passed on the report he received from the emissary to Jongkook, watching as his friend read the contents of the parchment. When Jongkook was done reading, he put down the parchment on the desk, and wiped the entirety of his face with his hand. His hand kept rubbing his chin, as he pondered on what to do.

“It’s just a political marriage, Jongkook,” Taehyun said. “You’re not sure who will be…”

“It’s going to be Jihyo,” Jongkook interrupted before Taehyun could even finish what he was saying. Taehyun was surprised that his friend had called the princess by name, knowing that their kingdom was particular about correct greetings. This meant that their relations have been much closer than he initially thought. Jongkook would never break royal protocol on his own, and, if the princess had allowed him to call her by her name, then this was not an unrequited love. Taehyun realized Jongkook did have a reason to go back.

But Jongkook was still rambling on, saying things like how Princess Somin would not enter a political marriage and how he and Jihyo had talked abou