Jun-ho gave Haneul precise instructions for the garments he wanted crafted for the Bujang and his soldier, while only a few steps away, he carefully studied the maps Kang-dae had entrusted to him.
The room remained wrapped in silence.
Broken only by the soft pull of thread through fabric.
At last, Haneul voiced the question that had been circling endlessly in her mind.
She paused her sewing and lifted her eyes toward him.
"Where will the Sandaenori be held?"
Jun-ho stopped reading immediately.
He knew the moment had come.
And he knew the answer could no longer be hidden behind half-truths.
Slowly, he looked at her.
"It's a distraction," he said quietly. "So we can remove the King from his chambers."
Haneul instantly dropped the fabric from her hands.
Her eyes widened in horror.
"Have you lost your mind?" she exclaimed. "How can you even say something like that right now?"
"Haneul, calm down. Let me explain."
But she was already shaking her head.
"No—I won't be part of this!" she cried. "I already have enough problems because of my father. What you're planning is suicide!"
"Then listen to me first!"
Jun-ho's voice cut through the room sharply enough to stop her.
Haneul crossed her arms tightly, anger still burning across her face, but she remained silent long enough to hear him.
And Jun-ho began to explain everything.
The corruption is poisoning the court.
The growing control of Lord Min.
The danger surrounding the King.
The inevitable collapse was waiting for Joseon if no one intervened.
Everything…
Except for the truth that Kang-dae was alive.
That secret remained buried behind his teeth.
As she listened, Haneul's anger slowly transformed into cold understanding.
Because deep inside, she realized he was right.
Dangerous or not—
This was the only real chance to save her father alive.
"The Sandaenori is the only thing capable of distracting the court and the palace guards while the King remains bedridden," Jun-ho continued, lowering his voice. "It will be held in the outer palace courtyards under the excuse of cleansing the air and driving away the spirit of illness."
He unfolded one of the maps.
"No one can publicly oppose a healing ritual."
His finger traced the palace paths carefully.
"While the court watches the performance, two people we trust completely will wear these costumes—not only to blend among the dancers…"
His gaze darkened.
"But to enter the King's chambers and extract him."
Haneul stared at him, her heartbeat quickening.
"And who exactly will enter and remove the King?"
"You'll know later," Jun-ho answered firmly. "For now, focus on the costumes."
Then he looked back at the maps.
"This will happen in three days."
Her breath caught.
"Three days?"
"Yes."
His voice turned quieter.
"The clock has already started running."
The final gathering took place the night before the Sandaenori.
Everyone involved in the conspiracy met once more to ensure every detail was prepared and to deliver the masks and garments Kang-dae would wear during the ritual.
Yet even then, the Bujang refused to reveal precisely how he intended to remove the King from the palace.
He trusted no one completely.
Not yet.
And though many in the room still doubted Kang-dae's loyalty in return—
Counselor Yi and Jun-ho never did.
That same night, the old counselor made another decision.
He would not reveal where the King would be hidden after the rescue.
Not fully.
Not even to his own allies.
Because deep within himself, he too wished to know who among them was truly loyal… and who merely wore loyalty like another mask.
At the very end of the meeting, someone finally asked the question lingering in everyone's mind.
"Where will His Majesty be taken?"
Counselor Yi rose slowly from his seat.
He walked several measured steps across the room before speaking.
His voice was calm.
Almost weary.
"I want you all to remember this," he said quietly. "The northern wind is cold… but the wooden bells heard at dusk always bring peace to the spirit."
Confused murmurs spread across the room.
Some exchanged puzzled glances.
Others assumed it was merely the poetic rambling of an aging official seeking comfort in philosophy as the kingdom crumbled around him.
But Jun-ho froze.
Only for an instant.
His eyes met his father's.
And immediately—
He understood.
As Chief of the Censors, his mind connected the meaning at once.
The "northern wind" referred to the harsh peaks of Mount Bukhansan.
And the "wooden bells"—
The moktak—
Were the unmistakable sound of Buddhist prayer rituals.
His father had not recited poetry.
He had given him a map.
A hidden message revealing where the King would be taken:
A secluded Buddhist temple hidden deep within the northern mountains.
And now—
With the key finally in Jun-ho's hands…
As Haneul and her servant traveled toward the meeting place to care for the final preparations…
And with the Sandaenori only one night away—
Fate began tightening its grip around every soul involved.
Because somewhere beyond the palace walls—
Someone else had already started putting the pieces together.
Cliffhanger:
The Shadow Beneath the Lanterns
Rain began falling before midnight.
Soft at first.
Then heavier.
The mountain roads darkened beneath the storm as Haneul's carriage advanced through the forest path toward the hidden meeting place.
Inside, she tightened her grip around the folded ceremonial robes resting on her lap.
Something felt wrong.
Too quiet.
Even the guards escorting them had stopped speaking.
Then—
The carriage halted violently.
Her servant gasped.
Outside, horses screamed.
Steel clashed.
And suddenly—
A body slammed against the side of the carriage hard enough to shake it.
Haneul froze.
Voices erupted beyond the rain.
Men shouting.
Fighting.
Dying.
Then came a voice from the darkness outside.
Calm.
Cold.
Terrifyingly familiar.
"Search every carriage."
Silence swallowed the forest.
And in that instant—
Haneul realized only one thing.
Lord Min had moved first