Silence returned to the inner courtyard's portico, broken only by the heavy breathing of the three youths and the low rustle of the wind scraping dry tree branches against the stone walls.
Zhilian remained kneeling on the gravel, her dress dusted in dark grime, her eyes wide with a mix of disbelief, disorientation, and subtle anguish. Her hands were still frozen midair, reaching toward Hayjin, as she processed every single word the boy had just unloaded on her.
"Travel... back in time?" the princess murmured. Her voice was little more than a whisper, fragile and cracked. She shook her head slowly, as if trying to dispel an annoying buzzing from her ears. "Hayjin... what are you talking about? Do you realize how... absurd that sounds? Please, tell me this is a sick joke. Tell me the shock from what happened with Wilder is making you delirious."
"I'm not delirious, Zhilian," Hayjin replied. His voice was flat, without a tremor, but his red, swollen eyes betrayed the inhuman exhaustion gnawing at his soul. He wiped his face with the back of his sleeve, letting out a heavy sigh that sounded like a growl of resignation. "I wish with all my heart it was bullshit. I wish I could tell you I've lost my mind. But the truth is, I've already died in this castle. I was stabbed in my sleep at night, as blood choked my throat and my vision faded out. And a second later... I woke up back here. At the very beginning of it all."
Isabelle, standing a step back in the pillar's shadow, brought a hand to her mouth to stifle a small gasp of dismay.
Zhilian continued to stare at him, her brow furrowed in a painful crease. Her mind, honed as a tactician and a mage, scrambled desperately for logic a rational explanation to compartmentalize the horrifying concept.
"Wait... wait a second," Zhilian said, pushing herself to her feet with effort, cutting through her chaotic thoughts out of sheer desperation. "If what you're saying is true... if you really lived a life before this one... who did this to you? Are you sure... are you one hundred percent sure it's one of Wilder, Riko, or Arkon?"
"Honestly, I don't know... I didn't see the face of the person who drove the blade into me in the first loop, Zhilian!" Hayjin snapped, dragging a hand through his messy hair and gripping the strands in frustration. "It was dark, I was utterly confused, and it happened in a fraction of a second! But I know for a fact who was around me before everything fell apart. I know who looked at me with cold detachment, I know who disappeared into dark corners, and I know who had reasons to want me gone!"
Zhilian remained silent for a long minute, pacing back and forth across a few paces of gravel, her arms crossed and fingers digging into the fabric of her sleeves. Her face shifted from initial shock to a mask of growing, palpable irritation. Her dark eyes filled with a cold glare as she turned her gaze back on Hayjin.
"And you..." the princess began, her voice rising, sharp as an icy blade, "...you kept a secret like this to yourself all this time? You came back in time, you knew there was an assassin among us, you knew we were all in mortal danger... and you didn't tell me anything?! You carried this crushing weight all on your own, playing the aloof idiot while the rest of us fumbled in the dark?!"
"Yes, I did! And do you want to know why?!" Hayjin snapped back, taking a sharp step toward her, his face flushed with anger and fatigue. "I did it for you, Zhilian! I did it for you, for Wren, for Isabelle, and for everyone else! Do you think this was fun?! Do you think I enjoy waking up in the middle of the night terrified of feeling a blade in my spine?!"
"You had no right to decide for all of us!" she interrupted, jabbing a finger against his chest. "We're a team, Hayjin! I am the princess of this realm and you are my knight! How can you think to protect us if you don't trust me enough to tell me something like this?! What exactly were you protecting us from, let's hear it?!"
"From my-fucking-self!" Hayjin yelled, flinging his arms out violently. "From a power I don't understand! I don't know how this damned regression works! I don't know if there's a limit to how many times I can die before I disappear forever! I don't know if revealing the truth alters the timeline or triggers a worse trap! I didn't want to risk causing irreparable harm! I didn't want to endanger your lives just to dump my paranoia on you!"
The two glared at each other at point-blank range, their chests heaving with short, furious breaths. The air between them had turned electric, saturated with months of unvented tension, unspoken fears, and an affection so deep it almost hurt.
Zhilian broke eye contact first, clenching her jaw and letting out a huff of disdain through her nose. "You are a twisted idiot, Hayjin. A damned, irredeemable mule."
"And you're naive enough to want to see the good in everyone even when they're holding a knife to our throats!" he retorted through gritted teeth.
"I am not naive!" Zhilian snapped back, wheeling around. "I am trying to be fair! You are hurling grave accusations! You're saying Riko, Wilder, and Arkon are accomplices or murderers! Are you one hundred percent sure of your suspicions? Do you have a single piece of hard evidence, or are you just stitching together coincidences born of your own terror?! We can't accuse people of high treason or plan attacks without a shred of certainty!"
"I have my instincts, and so far my gut has never been wrong when it comes to people who want me dead!" Hayjin said harshly.
"Instincts are not proof, Hayjin!" Zhilian raised her voice. "You don't condemn a person based on a hunch!"
"Actually... Hayjin is right."
Isabelle's broken voice resonated behind them small, trembling, yet clear enough to instantly freeze the argument between them.
Hayjin and Zhilian turned toward her simultaneously.
The young maid had remained where she was, her hands wringing her white apron, her shoulders quivering slightly. Fresh tears traced tracks down her cheeks, glistening under the dim torchlight.
"Isabelle?" Zhilian murmured, her tone softening immediately. "What do you mean?"
Isabelle took a step forward, lowering her head as her sobs grew louder. "I... I heard you arguing... and I can't take it anymore. I can't keep it inside any longer. If I don't tell you now... I'll feel guilty forever if something happens to Hayjin."
Hayjin knitted his brow, stepping toward the girl. "Isabelle, what are you talking about?"
Isabelle wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her apron, lifting a terrified gaze to Hayjin. "A few hours ago... while you were busy looking for clues... Riko pulled me aside. She stopped me in the east corridor, where no one else was around."
Hayjin's heart skipped a beat. "Riko?"
"Yes..." Isabelle said, her voice trembling noticeably. "She looked at me with an expression I'd never seen on her face before. It was cold... soulless. She told me... she told me that if she had the chance, and if you made even the slightest wrong move toward Wren or the princess... she would kill you herself. Without hesitation. She said you are a dangerous variable and that she wouldn't hesitate to eliminate you."
A dead silence fell over the courtyard.
Hayjin froze in place. The cold dread that had haunted him all evening crystallized into sharp, almost metallic certainty.
"Why..." Hayjin murmured, his voice suddenly stripped of anger, replaced by profound shock, "...why didn't you tell me sooner, Isabelle?"
At that question, the young maid broke down completely. She covered her face with her hands, weeping bitterly and despairingly. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Hayjin! I was too scared! She told me it was for Princess Wren's good... I was terrified... I didn't know what to do, I was scared for you and for myself!"
Without a second thought, Isabelle took three swift steps and threw herself against Hayjin's chest, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her tear-stained face in his tunic. "I'm sorry... please forgive me! I didn't want to hide it from you!"
Hayjin stood motionless for a fraction of a second, feeling the girl's tiny frame trembling like a leaf in his embrace. The anger toward Zhilian that had been consuming him moments ago evaporated instantly, replaced by a deep, visceral clarity.
He brought his arms down and wrapped Isabelle in a gentle embrace, holding her close. He rested a hand on the back of her head, stroking her hair in a soothing motion.
"Hey... hey, it's okay," Hayjin said, his voice soft and reassuring. "You have nothing to apologize for. You did the right thing by telling me now. Don't worry, really. Nothing is going to happen to you. I won't let anyone lay a finger on you."
As he spoke those words and comforted the girl, Hayjin's facial expression shifted entirely. His jaw set hard as stone; his eyes narrowed into dark slits, devoid of any doubt. His face became a picture of absolute, grim seriousness, yet within his mind, a faint spark of morbid satisfaction and relief flickered to life.
Finally, Hayjin thought, his mind racing at frightening speed. Finally, I have real confirmation. No doubts, no paranoia, no assumptions. Riko wants to take me out. She is an explicit enemy.
The boy gently broke the embrace, holding Isabelle by her shoulders and wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "It's all right, Isabelle. Everything's going to be fine."
Then he turned toward Zhilian. The princess had stood frozen, her mouth slightly agape, her eyes fixed on Isabelle. The revelation of Riko's direct threat had swept away every remaining shred of her skepticism, replacing it with grim gravity.
"Things change now," Hayjin said, looking Zhilian dead in the eye. "Now we know for a fact that Riko is an active threat. But there's more. If Riko is making moves like this, it means she isn't acting alone. We need to figure out what the hell Arkon and Wilder are hiding. I'm one hundred percent certain they're mixed up in this whole thing too. Wilder was a mess in the courtyard earlier, and he was summoned directly by Arkon... there's a thread connecting all three of them, and we have to cut it before it tightens around our necks."
Zhilian took a deep breath, pulling herself together with the dignity of her station. Her irritation toward Hayjin had vanished, replaced by the sharp readiness of a warrior.
"All right," the princess said, crossing her arms. "Let's assume you're right about everything. What's our move now? What's the plan?"
Hayjin rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "A few hours ago... around two o'clock... before all this chaos with Wilder broke out, Riko sought me out. Remember when you saw us, Zhilian? Well... she told me she wanted to see me in private. She explicitly asked me to come to her room later tonight. She said she wanted to 'ease the pain.'"
Zhilian knitted her brows. "That's blatantly a trap. It's too obvious. She wants to isolate you so she can eliminate you without witnesses."
"Exactly," Hayjin said with a cold, humorless smile. "And that is precisely why I'm going to accept her invitation."
"Have you lost your mind?!" Isabelle exclaimed, sniffling. "She's ambushing you!"
"No, Isabelle. I'd be walking into an ambush if I went there alone and unprepared," Hayjin explained in a calm, analytical tone. "But if I already know she wants to kill me, the upper hand shifts to us. We'll use her own trap against her. We'll turn the tables."
Hayjin looked at Zhilian. "Zhilian, I'd gladly go look for Wilder and Arkon to see what they're plotting... I already suspect they've holed up in the Council Chamber in the east wing. But I can't be in two places at once. And above all, I need your strength and magic to neutralize Riko quietly and cleanly. If we stir up chaos in the castle, Arkon will figure out we know and trigger whatever backup plan he's preparing."
Zhilian nodded slowly, taking in the logic of his reasoning. "So you want Isabelle and me to come with you to the attendants' quarters?"
"Exactly," Hayjin said. "I'll step into Riko's room alone, making her believe I fell into her trap. The two of you will position yourselves outside, hidden in the corridor shadows or using Isabelle's spatial magic to stay ready to spring the trap. The moment Riko makes her move on me... you burst in, and we knock her out before she even realizes what hit her."
Zhilian glanced at Isabelle, who, despite still being visibly shaken, nodded resolutely, clenching her small fists.
"All right," the princess said firmly. "It's a risky plan, but it's the fastest way to get answers and neutralize an immediate threat. Let's move before the night slips away entirely."
The wing reserved for the royal attendants' quarters was steeped in an unnatural silence. The long corridors of dark stone were lit only by sparse oil lanterns hanging on the walls, casting long, swaying shadows across the vaulted ceiling.
Inside her room, Riko stood before her small, solid wood writing desk.
The room was meticulously organized, devoid of trimmings or superfluous decorations, reflecting the woman's strict, military demeanor. Yet at that moment, Riko's composure was completely shattered.
Arrayed across the table's surface were several items: two daggers with thin, dull blades treated to avoid catching the light, a small vial of dark glass sealed with red wax, and a detailed map of Castle Opes's subterranean passages.
Riko twisted a linen cloth between her hands, wiping the blades with swift, neurotic, almost compulsive movements. A thin sheen of cold sweat coated her face, making her temples and forehead glisten. Her eyes, usually stern and calculating, darted nervously toward the door at the faintest creak of wood.
She was visibly agitated. Something was consuming her from within an invisible pressure driving her heart to beat at an unsustainable pace. She brought a hand to her neck, loosening the leather collar of her armor in an effort to breathe easier.
Suddenly, three soft, rhythmic, far too calm knocks echoed against the solid wood of the entrance door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Riko froze instantly. The linen cloth slipped from her fingers, dropping to the floor. A violent shudder ran down her spine, jerking the muscles in her shoulders. Her breath hitched in her throat.
She hadn't truly expected Hayjin to show up. She had hoped, in some twisted corner of her mind, that the boy had forgotten the invitation or chosen to ignore her. His presence there, at this late hour, hit her chest with a surge of sudden, acute dread.
With swift, silent movements, Riko shoved the vial of poison and the map beneath a stack of parchment, letting one of the daggers slide inside the right sleeve of her leather jerkin. She wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, took three deep breaths to regain control over her expression, and approached the door.
"Who is it?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady and authoritative, though failing to conceal a faint thread of tension.
"It's me, Riko," Hayjin's voice answered from outside, clear, almost relaxed. "You asked me to stop by to discuss security. I hope I'm not intruding."
Riko clenched her jaw, swallowing bitter saliva. She placed her hand on the iron handle, pressed down the lever, and slowly opened the door.
Hayjin stood there in the corridor. He wore his usual dark knight's tunic, hands in his pockets, his posture seemingly subdued and weary. There was no sign of visible weapons on him, nor any overt mark of hostility.
"Hayjin..." Riko said, striving to paint a soft, accommodating smile on her face that clashed drastically with the rigid terror in her eyes. She took a step aside, opening the doorway wider. "Truthfully, I didn't think you'd come, given how late it is. But I'm glad you're here. Come in, please."