Joy makes her fearful - for how her heart is bursting when finally his arms are around her, and the earthy spice of his being fills her senses. Ha Jin holds him to herself as tight as her arms would allow, fingers digging into his flesh - afraid that she might wake up from this happy dream - or that they would drag him away once more. Instead So strokes her face with a thumb, muttering against her hair.

She hardy catches his words - only the tenor of his voice that she allows to wash over her in waves, buried against his heartbeat, for one long moment. Prosecutor Hwang Shik Ryeom gives them no second glance as he walks out - struggling to come in terms with his defeat. Yo lingers only a moment longer eyes crinkling as he watches them - he leaves after his uncle, giving no indication of his true loyalties. Mun Seong follows him - a heavy pile of case briefs trailing after her.

For a fragment of a second she allows herself to feel secure, convinces herself that it is over.

And then fate blows off her card castle.

Wook escapes - using his own mother as his hostage. In a chaos of men - vehicles - lights and voices, he takes her away - a barrel pressed to her forehead. He is aided by the weapon he had raised - the man they wanted to think was an innocent victim. Ha Jin is uncertain whether Jun wanted to help Wook or save his mother or save himself from complying with the order to have him treated at an institution - but he follows Wook when the man takes the flight.

“He is going to kill her -” So’s voice makes her grip on him harder.

“No! No - don’t!” she murmurs, implores, pressing closer to him - hardly wasting a moment to reconsider exactly what she is asking him not to do.

“Ha Jin - ah,” his tone is tight - his hand slips from hers.

“You don’t have to go - please - So - yah…”

He closes his eyes and sighs and she sees it in his face. She knows it before he speaks the words. No matter how many times over she hurts him - he is still the boy who trailed after her crumbs of affection.

“I can’t let her die…”

He doesn’t allow her another word and she hopes someday Yoo Myung Sung would realize his heart - offer him the closure that he deserves. For he has always loved her so selflessly, thousand years back then and now, even when she continued to torture him mentally and physically So would always remain her son. His arm drape around her shoulder and his lips press on her temple.

“I’m sorry Ha Jin - ah,” he whispers an apology in her ear.

“Don’t -” she murmurs back. “I know you won’t forgive yourself if something happens to her. Don’t apologize for who you are.”

He leaves her with a faint smile and her heart sinks watching him go. It is as if she knows - trouble is to follow.

So that when he returns, bloodied, broken with trembling fingers and teary eyes, she feels like a victor of war. With her arms wrapped around him, his head buried against her shoulder - she allows herself to breathe in ease.

“He is gone,” his voice is broken. With her fingers tangled in his hair, Ha Jin’s mind reflects thousand years back to a time when So had believed Yo died at his hands. It is another similar sunset, lit up in hues of blood and gold - the yellowish amber of evening spilling over them.

She feels monstrous about how little she feels about Wook. The same mother his endeavour was to please all his life, had taken his life in the end. She remembers the tone the woman had employed to talk about him - the only son who had pleased her, but then in the end only survival had mattered to her. With her eyes closed she remembers the pitiful way Jeongjong had passed away - how he had demanded his mother to tell him what he meant for her. It was one of the things that remained unchanged - Ha Jin thinks with a sigh - Queen Yoo has never learned to be a good mother.

They don’t wait to see Jun being carried to the asylum, injured as he is and unconscious, there is little to know from him. Instead she has eyes only for him, her grip never faltering.

“Let’s take you home,” she whispers, his trembling fingers pressed between both her hands. “Let me take care of you.”

Silence falls heavy on them, when they arrive - it feels rather anticlimactic, like a war ended without a conclusion - a hollow victory. Weariness settles on their bones and his eyes are haunted by darkness. Shadows creep up on them, crowding the empty spaces - even her exhale seems to echo.

“Have a bath,” she ruffles his hair. “I’ll get the first-aid.”

“Don’t go -” His arms encircle her waist and pulls her back, folding her into himself. “Stay.”

She allows him to burrow into her shoulder, feeling his pulse race against her skin and delays turning around for a moment longer. But there is a thirst inside her to look into his eyes, drown and never surface. She turns in his arms and stroke his face, he nudges against her palm, carving for her touch. It makes her smile a little.

His hand is a bloodied mess and she doesn’t ask how he sustained the injury. They have all the time in the world to trace each scar, tonight - she decides - they will talk nothing of hurt.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promises against his lips and his smile crinkles his eyes. “Go!”

He complies unwillingly after a few minutes - she watches him drag himself away with a soft smile playing across her lips. There is something heavy on her chest, blocking her airway - she lists it off as the excess of adrenaline from earlier that day and pulls out her mobile. It had been on silent mode the entire day. It is then that she notices the few missed calls from Yo and Mun Seong. Even Eun has tried her number.

“Hello?” She calls back, choosing to dial Yo first.

“Ha Jin Ssi? Is everything alright?” His crisp voice cuts across her greeting.

“Yes. Why? What happened?”

She hears Yo’s sigh - followed by a pause.

“Jun has escaped.” He tells her slowly. “He never reached the institution.”

Her breath hitches.

“Wha - how?”

“Just be safe okay -” he tries to sooth her, but she could sense his own agitation that is hardly covered under the calm tone. “Call me if anything feels wrong. There is a chance that he will come after you - and he knows that place.”

Words dry up in her throat.

“Ha Jin Ssi? I’m not trying to scare you - please don’t be afraid.”

“No - I’m not - I’m okay.”

“Who is it?” So reappears at the doorway to his room, wet hair plastered to his forehead. Ha Jin ends the call, turning to him with a smile.

“No one,” she says, wanting desperately to keep trouble away for one night. “It’s nothing important.”

There is a crease between his brows until she draws closer enough to throw her arms around his neck. When he leans in droplets of water trail down her face. His lips ghost over their tracks and she sighs against his ear, a palm pressed over his heart, where it lies pounding against heated skin.

“Aren’t you cold?” She wonders, trailing a hand up his bare torso. He shakes his head, lips skimming over her throat, distracting and stealing her thought.

“Are you?” He asks, his words vibrate against her pulse making her shiver.

“Not anymore,” she breathes a reply, pressing closer and stumbling inside the room. Pleased with her reply he nibbles against her pulse and her eyes flicker open to catch her own gaze in the mirror a moment before his lips find and capture hers.

Ha Jin stiffens as her palm rests against the smooth skin of his shoulder.

In the mirror she sees that the bullet wound is gone.

Her fingers dig into his flesh as their kiss deepens and trail down over his back seeking out the scars she had traced countless times in the darkness, rough edges on his skin that she could map with her eyes closed.

Nothing. Her fingers come back up - disoriented and she pulls apart abruptly.

He seeks her eyes, stroking her face, his gaze darkened with passion.

“What’s the matter?”

She swallows willing herself to betray nothing of the wave of fear rising inside her.

“You need rest,” she says as apologetically as possible. He makes a disappointed sound in the back of his throat and pulls her closer.

“I need you,” his lips press against her throat. She cups his face pulling him away with gentle fingers, pressing her lips to his forehead instead.

“You need to get that hand tended,” she tells him, before pulling away. “Come with me.”