"All our workers are starving to death, and the so-called government officials are sitting here spewing this nonsense!"

A man leaped onto the podium in the blink of an eye. A blade caught the sunlight, gleaming sharply as it swung through the air.

The face was faintly familiar—he was one of the protestors who had passed by the entrance earlier.

‘Huh…?’

Heeju hesitated, her slow reaction causing her to instinctively raise her arms.

Before she could fully register what was happening, the man charging at her with a knife was abruptly knocked to the ground.

At the same moment, her small nose collided with Baek Saeon's chest with a dull thud.

He had pulled her into his arms and mercilessly kicked the man down.

"Advancing green recovery and transitioning to a low-carbon economy require proactive support for science and technology…"

Thud. Thud. His kicks, targeting only vital points, were brutal and precise.

The man, who was ultimately thrown to the floor, was quickly subdued by security personnel.

Even as he was dragged away, screaming at the top of his lungs, Baek Saeon remained utterly composed.

He seemed entirely unshaken, maintaining his calm demeanor as if nothing had happened. Remarkably, even while delivering swift, calculated kicks, Baek Saeon continued his briefing seamlessly.

Her hands moved on their own.

The sign language she had practiced so meticulously emerged almost instinctively.

Despite her ears ringing and legs trembling, his steady voice cut through the chaos, leading her like a clear path in the fog.

“…sharing these developments with developing nations is our mission.”

Yet, the hand resting on her shoulder never moved away. His gaze, fixed solely on Heeju rather than the reporters, hinted at something wrong.

His slightly labored breathing, the sharp edge in his tone, and the fiery anger simmering in his eyes as they lingered on her face—something was amiss.

At some point, the two of them had shifted from standing side by side to facing each other, an odd position for a briefing.

"Achieving these sustainable development goals is impossible alone; therefore, partnerships are paramount."

It wasn’t just them noticing the strangeness anymore. Reporters and onlookers murmured in confusion, their faces filled with bemusement.

As the briefing ended, applause erupted—its meaning varied across the crowd.

Heeju, dazed, managed to bow slightly, only to have her face firmly grasped.

“Were you scared? Are you hurt anywhere?”

Finally, the breath she had been holding escaped.

Her chest heaved with short, shallow breaths, and her vision spun dizzily.

Baek Saeon leaned in, brushing his fingers beneath her ear to check her pulse, muttering a low curse under his breath. "That lunatic…"

“Calm down for now. You did well in the briefing.”

The brief acknowledgment made heat rise quietly within her.

Baek Saeon guided her off the podium and into the waiting room in long, purposeful strides, locking the door behind them.

He wrapped her tightly in his arms, holding her trembling body firmly.

"Ever since I met you, there hasn’t been a single safe place in this world. Even if I left you at a playground, I’d worry myself to death."

He rested his chin on the top of her head, pulling her closer into his embrace.

As she sank into the warmth of his arms, his familiar scent enveloped her completely.

"I suppose it’ll be like this forever."

His sigh, oddly sweet, lingered in the air. His smooth cheek pressed gently against her head as if to soothe her.

The deep resonance of his voice, vibrating through his chest, felt like a steady heartbeat.

A sense of belonging to the vast, chaotic world swept over her.

‘Ah…’

Suddenly, her stomach churned.

Even in the pitch-black confusion, her instincts clung to the sound of his voice, a lifeline guiding her forward.

The realization struck unexpectedly.

‘I love you…’

Stripping away her stubborn denial, the truth of her feelings became startlingly clear.

The wounds she had clung to, like an unyielding barrier, were slowly, piece by piece, eroded by the raw sincerity of his confession—one that had escaped during their moments of vulnerability.

She remembered his voice, low and trembling, as he had asked, “Could there be another path for us?”

Although his subject had been ambiguous, from start to finish, his unwavering gaze had been fixed on one person alone.

Her.

If there was even the slightest room for change—could they find a different way?

‘If I reveal that I’m Sagong Yuk… could you accept me?’

His obsession with his wife and his fascination with Sagong Yuk’s identity—he wanted both.

Then, abruptly, Heeju’s hand gripped his arm tightly.

“…!”

The thick sleeve of his suit had been slashed, revealing a faint red line on his skin. Her heart sank at the sight.

“It’s nothing. Just a scratch—barely grazed me.”

With a dismissive air, he rotated his arm to show the wound, brushing it off as insignificant.

Yet, as if dissatisfied with the distance between them, he pulled her close with a stern tug.

"Don’t even think about going out there."

Without a word, Heeju let herself be drawn fully into his arms.

***

As they stepped outside to head home, a few glances were cast in their direction.

Heeju tried to ignore the eyes she felt on her, quickening her pace.

Her face, strangely flushed, refused to cool down easily.

Rrrr, Rrrr―

The loud ringtone made her fumble nervously through her pocket.

Restricted number.

The moment she saw the screen, her heart started racing wildly.

“Of all times, now…?”

While she hesitated, pale-faced, someone grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the emergency stairs. The grip was tense, almost to the point of pain.

Thrown into a corner, Heeju immediately nursed her aching wrist.

“Heeju, you—damn it!”

The icy expression of her older sister, In-ah, drained all the blood from Heeju’s face as if her innermost thoughts had been exposed.

“That’s not it, right?”

In-ah’s tone was sharp and accusatory.

“You… it’s not what I think it is, is it?”

But Heeju couldn’t respond. There was too much she couldn’t say, especially now that she had just realized something monumental herself.

“Your expression on that podium…”

In-ah trailed off, then let out a bitter laugh.

“Don’t tell me you actually like Baek Saeon?”

“…”

In-ah ran her fingers through her hair, biting her lip.

Heeju wasn’t ready for this conversation, not with her sister.

As Heeju lowered her head in silence, In-ah quickly changed her question.

“When did it start?”

There was no room left to evade. Slowly, Heeju moved her hands.

“…For a while now.”

At that, In-ah stared into the distance, laughed into the void, then kicked the wall a few times before collapsing to the ground, her face buried in her hands. Her erratic demeanor made Heeju shrink back, her shoulders trembling.

Should I apologize for falling for my sister’s fiancé?
For foolishly taking something that wasn’t mine…

So I should say sorry…

As Heeju scrambled to piece together her thoughts, In-ah suddenly stood again, her gaze fierce and burning.

“If the Little Mermaid didn’t save the prince from drowning, but instead saw something horrifying on his ship… could she still love him?”

A torrent of emotions surged through Heeju, but they were too fast, too overwhelming to process.

The only things clear were In-ah’s anger and fear, searing through like a flame.

“Heeju, the reason I disappeared before the wedding—”

“…”

“I ran away.”

“…”

“Dad, nobody believed me. No one around me could be trusted, so I left everything behind and fled!”

Though her sister’s habit of using sign language had mostly faded, she gestured wildly in the air, her voice trembling with anger and despair.

Finally, In-ah grasped Heeju’s shoulders, her face desperate.

The calm and composed sister Heeju had always known was nowhere to be seen. This unbridled version of In-ah was unfamiliar and unsettling.

Sensing the gravity of the moment, Heeju clenched her palms tightly.

“The reason I ignored your mutism—”

In-ah hesitated, her lips trembling slightly.

“It wasn’t just my selfishness. It’s because staying silent… was safer for you.”

“…”

Her words were cryptic, difficult to grasp at first.

In-ah, her eyes shaking uncontrollably, glanced around nervously before bowing her head.

As their faces drew closer, Heeju noticed her sister’s bloodshot eyes, her voice barely a whisper.

“When I was little… I said something I shouldn’t have.”

Her pupils quivered like a frightened child’s as she continued.

“This man isn’t Baek Saeon.”

“…”

“His face is different, Grandpa.”

At the mention of an unexpected name, Heeju’s eyes widened.

Pale as a ghost, In-ah mimicked the speech pattern of a child.

“I said it to Representative Baek Jangho. I told him, ‘The face I saw before doesn’t match this one.’”

She nervously licked her lips.

“And the look on Baek Jangho’s face then…”

In-ah shuddered at the memory, her shoulders trembling.

Everything had been picture-perfect, like a well-manicured garden, until the moment she was introduced to her fiancé.

When In-ah confidently pointed to Baek Saeon with a triumphant finger—

The air that had been loose and warm suddenly turned razor-sharp, cutting into her like a blade.

The grandfatherly warmth on Baek Jangho’s face melted into something monstrous as he approached, his wrinkled hand gripping her cheek tightly.

The texture of his weathered skin pressing against her soft, youthful face was chilling.

With a distorted, almost demonic smile, he spoke words of blessing, which In-ah, much later, realized had been warnings in disguise.

Everything started from that moment.

With one reckless statement—

Wanting to show off as a child, to mock the idea of being homeschooled—

She had dredged up an old memory of Baek Saeon’s face and compared it to the boy in front of her, pointing out their differences for all to see.