They hold their breaths as they see the person casually walking into the dining room, her pink hair a point of attraction as it bobs up and down with her every move. Their eyes trail her again as she plops onto the seat, bowing slightly to the rulers before she pushes back the sleeves of her oversized cotton shirt, reaching out for the ladle to get some soup for herself.

"I thought that you planned to go back after lunch," Wooyoung speaks up first, breaking the silence as he eyes Sara. "But you're joining us for dinner, looking more than comfortable."

"I was," Sara shrugs, "but I figured why not stay a little longer." A mischievous twinkle in her eyes appears as she continues, "I get to eat more delicious food, enjoy some company and annoy you more." She clicks her tongue as she lifts up her eyebrows.

"Ugh," Wooyoung grumbles. "How amazing," but as his eyes flick to Seonghwa, who's looking mighty and healthy, he relents. "But at least you did keep your promise to cure my brother."

"It's my pleasure."

Sara wiggles her eyebrows as she slurps on the soup, humming in satisfaction as it's rare for her to taste someone else's cooking. All the time, it has always been her own cooking and even then, she wouldn't call herself a master chef. At least what she cooks is edible for herself and so far, she has never gotten any food poisoning. So that's an achievement.

"Treat yourself at home," Akira says, smiling as she sees Seonghwa taking some potatoes from her plate before he cuts them up for her, sliding them back to her plate. He squeezes her thigh, tilting his head towards the cut-up potatoes. She lightly chuckles.

Yeosang, Hongjoong and Mingi look at each other as they lift up their eyebrows, secret smiles on their faces as they see how happy Akira and Seonghwa look together. Now that he's finally released from the curse, it seems like she's trying to make up all the time they lost together without minding the public display of affection her husband is showing.

"Trust me," Sara laughs, "I will. I was thinking of visiting the winter festival in town. It seemed fun."

"Ooh, can we come along?" Wooyoung utters. "We didn't get to see what it was about that day."

"Not you," Sara says, to which the others laugh.

Yunho looks across the long table, heart at ease looking at their smiling faces, knowing that even though three more days their palace is about to be under attack, it's nice to see them act normally. If before this they're only serious in making sure that everyone is orderly, acting like this helps him to take his mind off anything worrying, even more so as he looks at the ones from Nyla caught up in their banter with Sara.

"Now that Akira's pregnant," Seonghwa speaks up, leaning his head on her shoulder as he grins, "I'm going to have to take care of her more."

There's a long pause as the five young masters, including Jongho, look at the couple with jaws dropped and eyes bulged, before they look at each other. Wooyoung reacts the most as his utensils clang on the plate when he drops them.

"Akira!" Wooyoung screeches. "You're pregnant?!"

"You didn't tell us you're pregnant," Mingi says through a pout. "We could've prepared ourselves earlier to become uncles."

Yeosang, Jongho and Hongjoong remain speechless, even though their expressions show that they're beyond happy to hear about the news.

Akira chuckles awkwardly, glaring at Seonghwa, who realizes that he has made a mistake.

"Well," Akira utters, realizing that there's no turning back. "It's been a few weeks, almost a month, I guess." She glances at Wooyoung, "I guess that's why my body wasn't that great when we went to Ileara. I fell sick on the way back, remember?"

Sara looks at Akira from the corner of her eyes, guilt intensifying as she realizes that it was when she had turned them away. She feels a sharp pain in her chest, but she ignores it as she knows that the moment she lets her guard down is when the curse would conquer most of her.

Yeosang gasps. "Are you saying that you went through all of that while you were pregnant?"

The queen cringes. "I didn't know."

Hongjoong does a hissing sound. "You're amazing."

"My wife is," Seonghwa utters as he squeezes her shoulder lightly.

They continue eating, the usual banter between Wooyoung, Sara and then Yeosang continuing, with Yeosang and Sara going against Wooyoung as he grumbles, saying how a friend like him would betray him and side with her instead. As they finish dinner, Seonghwa is the first to stand up before tugging Akira's sleeve, eyes sending messages that only both of them understand, leaving the rest as they utter their goodnights.

The rest leave one by one, until it's only Yunho and Sara in the huge dining hall, their plates already cleaned up in front of them. Both of them seem out of it as they stare at the table in front of them, both of their minds occupied by different things.

Yunho is thinking about his encounter with Jihyun, the things he had said to her and those mixed up with their plan during the palace attack. It's like his mind is tilting between the blueprint of their strategy and Jihyun's face when she cried after he rejected her. Meanwhile, Sara is sighing heavily as she thinks about San's request; so far none of the others had suspected her for wanting to stay a few more days there, thinking that it's only because she wants to enjoy the environment in Lucida more before going back.

Without acknowledging each other and both too occupied, out of their minds, they stand up at the same time, not even realizing that they're going in the same direction. It's only when they arrive at the top of the winding stairs that will lead them to the underground cell, do they realize that they were going to the same place.

"Ah," Yunho utters, slightly embarrassed that he didn't even notice she was walking alongside him. "You're going to the underground cell too?"

"Hmm," she hums in agreement. "I have some things to talk to San."

"I see," Yunho says. "Well," he takes a deep breath, "I have to check up on Jihyun. It was an order from Her Majesty." He adds, "It's not like I wanted to check up on her."

Sara sideeyes him, nodding slowly. "Sure, whatever you say, general. I don't judge. You do your thing, I'll do mine. Out of each other's way."

They step into the underground cell, half expecting the only two prisoners to be sleeping already, but their eyes are wide as they welcome the two guests. Yunho makes his way over to Jihyun's cell, while Sara turns to the right where San is.

When Jihyun sees that Yunho is approaching, her body visibly perks up, a smile on her lips but they quickly vanish as she pretends as if she wasn't waiting for him to come.

"My initial intention of coming here," he pauses, "before I got distracted by the cockroach was to ask you whether you'd like to learn a thing or two on how to protect yourself." He shrugs, "In case someone aims for you and you have no one to protect you." He resists the urge to say more, but fails anyway as he adds, "Like I was there to protect you when you were terrorized by the cockroach."

"Jerk," she mumbles as she crosses her arms, showing her back towards him.

"Their Majesties have allowed you to come out of your cell if you'd like to learn," he adds as he glances at her, "with me."

She scoffs as she looks over her shoulder. "With you? No thank you. I don't want to learn from a servant."

He pretends to heave a deep sigh. "Very well then, this servant will take his leave, good night. Thank you by the way, for not wasting my energy."

"Wait!" she shrieks, scrambling to the bars. "I take that back. I want to go out," she blinks as she tries to gain sympathy, "I'm kind of bored sitting here, looking at the same thing." She puts out her hands, which are no longer cuffed. "You can cuff me if you think I'd run away. I just want some fresh air."

He shrugs before he straightens up, swinging the door open as he tilts his head. "Since you can't even run to save yourself, I won't cuff you." He snickers, "You probably can't even run out of the palace compound before straining yourself and giving up."

She rolls her eyes, irritated that even as he makes fun of her, she still finds him attractive. "Will you ever stop making fun of the fact that I don't have a lot of stamina?"

"Once you stop working at the palace," he lifts up his eyebrows. He does a sweeping motion, "After you, Your Highness. But," he smiles rather threateningly, "if you decide to run away I won't hesitate to chase after you."

She rolls her eyes again, but only stands beside Yunho, looking rather small now that their height difference is obvious. "Why, you don't want to walk next to me? Would you rather die than walk next to me?"

"I'm merely a servant, Your Highness," he says in a breathy tone, dramatically putting the back of his hand on his forehead. "Please, I don't deserve to walk beside a royal."

She can't help but chuckle, though she quickly puts on a straight face as she hates how he made her laugh. "Whatever."

She walks forward, refusing to look at him although she can feel his eyes from behind, intent on making sure she doesn't run out of sight. It's not that she has the intention to run away, but she can feel her back burning from his eyes alone. Plus, as they walk upstairs and further away from the underground cell, she realizes that she doesn't know where they're actually going so she falls back, walking beside him.

"Oh no," Yunho gasps. "You're walking beside a servant."

She grits her teeth. "Can you stop playing around?"

He stares at her from the side, puzzled. "You said I was scary, but when I'm playful you ask me to stop. What do you actually want?"

"Don't do anything." She looks away as she walks forward, a slight tinge of blush coming to her cheeks. She stops walking again, however, as she realizes that Yunho hasn't budged from his position, watching as she walks. She turns around, this time her hands on her hips. "What are you doing?"

"You told me not to do anything," he says jokingly, but his warm eyes rest upon hers as a playful smile comes to him. "But it seems that I am doing something by standing here."

"You're annoying," she mumbles.

He chuckles before walking beside her, glancing at her from the side as he utters, "Are you always this complicated?"

"Well are you always this dense? I can't believe you just walked out of the cell without saying anything to me, then appeared in front of my cell as if I had not just confessed to you and cried my eyes out because of you," she shoots back in one breath.

He lets out a sharp breath. "Why would you even cry because of me, a servant?" he asks in a singsong voice. "I'm not worth your tears."

"You could've been nicer in rejecting me."

"Ah, so that proves it then. You've never been rejected have you? Looking at you," he hums, "you're the type who reject others first before they can. Why?" he smirks, "I shredded your pride?"

"Shut up."

"I will, Your Highness. But I need to talk to you to even teach you how to defend yourself."

There's a twinkle in his eyes before he puts his hands behind his back as they continue walking in silence. Despite saying that she's annoyed by him, she follows him anyway out into the practicing range, where he just cocks his head towards the storage, asking her to pick anything that she wants to learn about.

Grumbling, she begrudgingly swings the door open, sifting through the weapons that she's unfamiliar with. Her eyes look at each one of them, unable to come up with their specific names as she looks at them, finding them slightly too big for someone like her. Looking back, she sees Yunho crossing his arms as he leans against the doorframe, waiting for her to come up with something. She randomly picks up a sword, but she can hear him saying that her choice might not be that good. Still wanting to prove that she's not as weak as they always put her as, she wraps the hand around the handle, pulling it out from its sheath.

Obviously underestimating its weight, the moment the whole weight of the sword is transferred to her hand, she almost stumbles forward. In that moment she feels an arm pulling her back before a hand wraps around hers that's holding the sword. Flushed, her back is pressed against Yunho's chest as his hand carefully slips the sword out of her grip. He lets her go, bringing the sword with him.

"I told you that the sword would be too heavy for you," he utters, sliding it back into the sheath. "It takes a lot of practice to be able to hold it steadily. Sometimes it's hard for us soldiers as we find them heavy too."

She stays quiet, moving out of the way and head slightly hanging down. She mumbles, "It's alright then; I know I'm not built for this." She walks out of the storage area before sitting down in the middle of the practicing range, hugging her knees to her chest.

He blinks, unaware that he had offended her; all he wanted to tell her was that it wasn't her fault that she couldn't hold the sword. Even soldiers like him find them heavy; so he actually wanted her to try for a lighter weapon first. Something small but can still hurt someone. He pushes his lower lip outwards before swiping the throwing knives off the hooks, jogging over to her.

"I didn't mean to-" he starts, "-I just didn't want you to hurt yourself even before you start to learn."

"Forget about it," she mutters under her breath as she lies down on the ground, not even minding that it's dirty as she spreads her legs and arms wide open, staring at the sky. "I don't have enough energy for this kind of stuff."

Sighing, he puts the throwing knives down on the ground as he sits next to her. He sits cross-legged beside her, citing, "Did you think that I could wield the sword as soon as I knew how to walk? I took years to practice."

She lifts up her head to look at him, her chin hitting her chest. "You do seem like that kind of person. You know, that kind of person who's practically good at everything."

"I'm not," he replies.

"Oh really? Then what are you not good at?" When he's only quiet, she points it out. "See? You can't even name what you're not good at right off the bat. You can't just be annoyingly perfect."

"Aren't you the type who's good at everything too?" he asks. "Just like your father, so all your life you're only hearing praises."

She blinks, thinking about his words before she glances at him, slightly shrugging. "I'm not."

He snorts. "I think you are, though. That's why you have that attitude when you came into the palace."

She sighs before she rolls on to her side, her back collecting fallen leaves and grass. As she breathes out, a cloud of smoke comes out and she relents, "I was brought up hearing only praises, and I was treated like a literal princess by my parents."

"In short, you're a stuck up who always gets her way."

She glares at him, but sighs again not long after. "You could say that."

"Huh, so you feel challenged by Akira weren't you? To see her sitting on the throne with black blood, yet everyone except your father's pact, liked her very much."

"I did." Her eyes travel to the sky. "I grew up always being fed praises, my mindset moulded so that I believe I'm better than everyone else. But that was all," she pauses, "a facade. Even with people around me praising me I realized how lonely I was. No one was actually sincere in giving me that treatment; they were only praising me because they thought I was a noblewoman. Well, coupled with my attitude that's the reason I don't have any friends."

"Ah," he brings it up again, "that explains a lot of things. I'm glad that Akira changed your way of thinking."

She looks at him from the corner of her eyes. "She's nice."

He chuckles. "You wouldn't hear that when she was the general. Hah," he leans back, propping himself up with his arms, "back then she'll kill people with her sword. Now, she's killing people with her kindness. How lovely."

"Honestly, if I didn't know she was a general back then, I wouldn't have any idea."

"She's too nice for her own good," he rebutts.

"I could learn a thing or two from her I guess," she chuckles, "but she's on a different level than mine; she's on a higher level."

"Everyone can change," he utters, glancing at her even though she's only looking at the sky. "From good to bad, or from bad to good." He lets out a sharp breath, "I was just wondering... whether you were really pursuing after her husband because you liked him."

With this, she laughs as she shakes her head. "I told you I was pursuing after everything Her Majesty has, and her husband happened to be one of them. It didn't matter who he was."

He releases a heavy breath. "You're relentless."

"I was." She spreads her arms and legs open, moving them as if she's going to make snow angels. The leaves rustle under her. "But I realized even if I did get the throne, I wouldn't want it. I was only pursuing what my father wanted for me; he does love me but he doesn't realize that he's pushing what he wants. He never stopped to ask me what I would want in my life."

"Then what do you want in life?"

She pauses, mulling over her sentence. "I don't know. I know I don't seem like the kind, but I'm actually pretty good at pottery. So maybe if I can make cute vases and pots for my living, I'd be more than content. Ah!" She puts a finger to her chin as she grins, "I'm good at crafting basically." She shrinks back, the shine in her eyes gone. "But then my father said pottery doesn't pay much, and he keeps on pushing me to take the throne." Her eyes go downcast, "I've always followed the path he set for me, but for once I want to do what I want to."

"Then do it," he says, his eyes gazing upon her. "Do what your heart wants, as long as it doesn't hurt other people," he smiles, "as long as you're happy."

She slowly sits up, ignoring the fact that her back is now dirty. "That's what I want to do. Once I'm out of my father's grip, I want to pursue what I'm interested in."

He chuckles, amused seeing her so eager. "I'm guessing you're not interested in learning self defence then," he decides, subtly tilting his head towards the throwing knives near his feet.

"I have a reason," she mumbles, "on why it seems that every time I get out of breath really easily, so I usually stay out of physical activities."

He lifts up his eyebrows; he didn't see it coming.

"I had some defects to my lungs when I was born," she relays, "so they're not really... perfect? That's why I tend to get out of breath easily." She chuckles, even though he can see how there are tears pooling in her eyes as she rests her chin on her knees. "I was supposed to be dead when I was born, because my lungs didn't develop properly, but I survived. That was why my parents treated me like a literal princess; they said they're grateful that I still made it out alive."

He remains speechless, feeling bad how he had always made fun of her about it as he scratches his head. "I'm- sorry," he manages, "I didn't know."

She smiles, shaking her head. "It's alright though, I know that I'm in an environment where everyone needs to move. That's why I'd prefer to just sit down and do pottery, you know. Takes less energy and I'm happy."

He clamps his lips, realizing how much he must have had offended her when she had a reason so.

"I told you," she mumbles, "I was fluttered when you picked me up. Just reminded me of the days when my father used to pick me up when I was small, because I became out of breath easily."

"Ah, see," he refutes, "you'd become fluttered all the same if someone else does that to you too. It's not because of me, it's because of what I did to you."

She scoffs. "You're so intent on making me remember the fact that you rejected me. I get it, I get it. You don't have to remind me."

He smirks before picking one of the throwing knives up, holding out his left hand so that he can help her stand up. She hesitates to grab his hand, and he silently sighs as he drops his hand.

"Is it because you don't want to touch a servant's hand?" he asks in a fake disappointed voice.

"It's not!" she quickly refutes. "It's because-" Her eyes flit to his hand, "You need to stop doing stuff like that, you're just giving me mixed signals. You said you rejected me."

"I was just being courteous."

"Well that courtesy made me fluttered and I'm easily swayed." She scrambles to get up, avoiding his stare. "So don't do anything like that."

"Huh," he utters. Without saying anything more, he turns towards the practicing dummy at a distance from him, before he pulls back his hand, shooting it out as he releases the throwing knife. It stabs right through the middle of the practicing dummy's head.

Jihyun flinches as the knife goes past her, but it doesn't graze her one bit. She glares at him, her mouth twisting. "You're doing that on purpose aren't you?" You know how I get flustered easily."

"I'm not," he hums as he picks one throwing knife after the other, throwing them into different directions of different dummies, and with every throw she would flinch, even though she's silently impressed.

His face doesn't even falter as the throwing knives go out of his hand, looking like he's gracefully doing a performance with them. As he's finished with the knives, he turns to Jihyun, who slowly claps her hands but quickly changes her face from an impressed one to an expressionless one.

"That wasn't bad," she says.

"You want to try?" he asks as he plucks one of the knives out, handing it over to her.

She puts up both of her palms forward, slowly pushing the knife away from her. "No. I might end up hurting myself, and you."

He lets out a breathy chuckle. "So I'm guessing that you're not looking to learn any form of self defence?"

"I'll just blindly kick someone," she offers, "throw some lame punches and then I'll run for my life- well at least as far as I can manage." She gives him two thumbs up. "I can protect myself like that."

This time he laughs as he puts a hand over his mouth. "You're really one of a kind."

She blinks, knowing that his words should have been something normal, but she looks down as again; all she can think is of how good he looks as he brushes back his hair, the remnants of his laugh dancing on his lips.

"Well, I respect your choice anyway," he winks, "not everyone needs to know how to protect themselves."

He takes back the throwing knives from the dummies, walking to the storage to place them away. As he closes the door, he looks over his shoulder to see her looking at the sky, her head tilted backwards. Unknowingly, he smiles as he's reminded of someone. Just like Jihyun, someone with white blood; Jihyun is a lot similar to the person he's thinking of.

A person that he, once had feelings for too, but had to bury them away because of their circumstances.

Not to mention that it was heavily one sided.

Maybe that's why he was hesitant; hearing a white blood liking someone like him who's a yellow blood? It's too good to be true.

"General," Jihyun speaks up, and Yunho turns around, seeing that her eyes are blinking rapidly. "Something got in my eye."

He almost snorts, but holds it back as it seems that she's panicking as she keeps rubbing her eyes. "Aren't you just making up excuses just so I'll touch your face?"

"I mean," she rubs her eyes, "it's really itchy. I can't open my eyes, it's not like I'm asking you to take it out for me. But I can't walk back to the cell if I can't open my eyes."

He goes over to her, towering above her as he juts out his chin, trying to look at her eyes as she holds them open.

"Do you see anything?" she asks. "I think it was some debris in the air."

"I only see a pair of eyes," he says nonchalantly, without even touching her.

"Well general, thank you for pointing that out and I'm glad to know I still have them, but is there anything?" she emphasizes.

"You said to not give you mixed signals so I am not touching you," he utters.

She blinks rapidly then clamp her eyes shut as she feels the foreign object still in them. She sighs before uttering, "Just help me this one time. I won't think of anything."

"If I may," he says politely as he holds her face gently, looking into her eyes. He sees the foreign object stuck inside, just below her eyeball, so he blows on it, but it won't move. Subconsciously he brings his finger to her eye, but she shouts in pain as he pokes it.

"You poked my eye!"

"I'm- I'm sorry," he replies, but he still holds her face firmly. "I couldn't get it out."

"Do it one more time," she says, "but don't poke my eye again."

Taking a deep breath and holding it, he carefully pokes his finger at the part where it was stuck before prying it away and releases his breath as he flicks it away. "I took it out," he announces.

She blinks before a satisfied smile comes to her face. "Now I can see properly." She stops smiling as she realizes he's only staring at her, void of words. She looks at him as she says suspiciously, "Why are you looking at me so weirdly? Decided that I look pretty up close and regretted that you rejected me?"

He looks away as he says, "You just reminded me of someone."

She lifts up her eyebrows. "Really?" She narrows her eyes, "You're going to say that you're reminded of an evil and ugly person when you see me, don't you?" She sticks up her nose. "I know your game."

"No," he replies, already turning back to walk towards the palace building. He sees her quickly catching up to him, walking beside him. "You just reminded me of someone I loved."

She gasps. "You're saying I look like your lover? Ah... it's no wonder you rejected me." She cringes, "You guys broke up didn't you?"

He looks down. "She died."

She turns quiet as she mentally slaps herself, scolding herself for saying something stupid. As always. "I'm sorry," she sheepishly says.

"It's alright," he chuckles lightly. "She wasn't my lover; you could say it was a one sided love, plus she liked someone else anyway."

"Was that why..." she trails off, but she doesn't continue.

"Why what?" he asks as he stops walking.

She looks around, realizing that they're in a secluded area where there's no one, and under the low light she sees how in his eyes, she could sense apparent pain even though he's slightly smiling, as if prompting her to continue. She looks up at him, resisting the urge to comfort him, so she only runs her eyes to the wall.

"Nothing, it's none of my business," she decides.

"You shared a lot with me about yourself tonight, so I think it'd be fair if you'd like to know more about me," he shrugs. "I'm fine with it."

She sucks in her lips as she relents, "Was that why you stopped having feelings for her?"

His eyes travel from left to right, thinking about it. "Not really." He chuckles, "I actually only found out that she liked someone else after she passed away. We were friends, the best of friends, really. But it's too bad because we were separated according to our blood colours. After that she just... changed. She became someone different, someone I couldn't recognize. We grew apart because of that." He shrugs, "It's all in the past anyway."

"I'm sorry about your loss," she says as she doesn't know whom he's actually talking about.

"It's alright." He smiles as he starts walking again, with her following by his side but makes sure there's a distance between them.

She feels slightly awkward, now that he has just straight up exposed his past to her. Still, she feels kind of touched that he at least trusts her to be talking about it. When they do arrive at the cell finally, both of them see that Sara is not there anymore, while San has seemingly drifted off to sleep.

Jihyun dutifully enters her cell on her own, sheepishly saying that she'd need to change her clothes. Before Yunho closes the door, she stops him as she apologizes again, both for making him have to talk about memories that pain him and for not making the time useful to be learning about self defence.

"I just-" she says, "-well if I get hurt during the attack, I'll manage on my own. You know, all of you soldiers have much more important things to attend to. I'm not that important, so you don't have to worry about me getting hurt." She grimaces, "Although I'll probably scream through the whole palace if I get hurt so you'll know."

He grips the bars as he pauses, letting out a deep breath. He locks the door but he doesn't move away, still standing in front as he looks at her.

"General?" She waves a hand over his face from behind the bars. "I'm getting ready to sleep so if you can... leave?"

"You don't have to worry," he says suddenly.

"About what?" she asks, tilting her head to the side.

"About getting hurt during the attack." He holds her stare. "Because I'll protect you." He doesn't say anything else as his face falls into an unsmiling one again, before he bows as a sign of good night to her.

She doesn't reply as she watches him walking out nonchalantly, before disappearing behind the door. She grits her teeth as she feels her heart picking up pace again, cursing him under her breath as she finds it hard to even forget about him.

Damn it, he's doing all of that to me and he's asking me to move on?