A Year of Silent Wounds

Two months passed since the war that should have never happened.

Two months since the sky rained arrows.

Two months since the crown fell into Jaehyun’s hands dripping with his father’s blood.

Two months since Jihoon curled on his chamber floor and learned to cry without making a sound.. because tears made his father angrier.

The kingdoms were quiet.

But the silence was not peace.

It was grief.

It was guilt.

It was two young hearts rotting alone.

Winterthorn Kingdom... The Funeral That Never Left Jaehyun

Choi Jaehyun stood in front of the golden mirror in his new royal chambers, but the reflection didn’t look like a king.

Pale.

Hollow-eyed.

Thinner than before.

His shoulders slumped with invisible weight.

Today, he had to wear the ceremonial royal coat for the first time.

King Choi Jaehyun.

A title meant for a man wiser, older, steadier.

But the previous king lay beneath the soil, and grief had become the new heir.

Minjae entered quietly.

“Your Majesty… it’s time.”

Jaehyun swallowed. The black sash around his arm felt heavier than armor.

“You know,” he whispered, “if I hadn’t written that letter… If I hadn’t rushed into war…”

Minjae stepped closer. “Don’t do this again.”

“But it’s true,” Jaehyun said, voice cracking. “Father died because of me.”

He clenched the fabric at his chest... right over his heart.

“Because I was angry. Because I didn’t think. Because I couldn’t protect him.”

His reflection blurred as tears finally escaped him.

“I become king by killing the man who should’ve ruled longer. Tell me, Minjae… what kind of king starts like this?”

Minjae didn’t answer.

There was no answer for grief.

He only bowed his head and said softly:

“A strong one, Your Majesty.”

But Jaehyun didn’t believe it.

Not then.

Not for a long time.

Jihoon walked through the hall of the east wing holding a tray of documents. He wasn’t supposed to be delivering anything...he was a prince. But after the “disgrace” of the war, Mr. Kim made sure Jihoon never forgot what he had caused.

And he reminded him every morning.

“So you finally woke up,” Mr. Kim snapped as Jihoon passed near the council room. “Not hiding in that room of yours?”

Jihoon froze, eyes lowered.

“Y-yes, Father.”

Mr. Kim scoffed. “Your voice trembles like a child’s. Pathetic. Are you crying again? Don’t tell me losing that boy’s father affected you too?”

Jihoon felt his chest tighten painfully.

But he didn’t answer.

“Look at me,” Mr. Kim thundered.

Jihoon lifted his head. His cheek still had a faint bruise from the last time he answered too slowly.

“You are the shame of Aurelis,” his father said coldly. “You disgraced this kingdom by chasing that prince around like a cheap...”

Jihoon flinched.

His hands shook so badly the papers almost slipped.

The council members pretended not to hear. They always did.

He bowed stiffly and forced himself to walk away.

When he reached a quiet corner, he leaned against the wall, exhaling shakily.

He had heard the rumors.

Everyone had.

King Choi is dead.

Prince Jaehyun is now ruling.

The war ended in tragedy.

Jihoon pressed a hand to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to no one.

To Jaehyun.

To himself.

To the man whose death he felt he caused.

He thought of writing again.

A letter of apology.

A letter of comfort.

A letter of anything.

But then he remembered the last time he wrote.

How Jaehyun answered honestly.

How his father intercepted it.

How the war began because Jihoon wasn’t careful.

So every time he sat down with ink and paper…

He froze.

His hand refused to move.

His fear whispered:

What if I hurt him again?

One full year passed.

A year where Jaehyun wore the crown but not the smile of a king.

A year where Jihoon woke every morning expecting a new insult.

A year where Jaehyun stood on his balcony at night looking toward Aurelis, wondering if Jihoon hated him.

A year where Jihoon lay on his bed staring at the moon, wondering if Jaehyun blamed him for the king’s death.

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