"Isn’t that him?" one whispered from the stairs, voice trembling with both curiosity and awe.
"The prince’s rival," another added, eyes wide as they leaned over the railing for a better look.
"No one expected that commoner to outshine him," a third said, tone a mixture of disbelief and admiration, echoing the murmurs rippling through the crowd.
Sun didn’t move. He stood stiff, dark eyes tracking Jae as the group climbed the steps with their usual calm ease. Every step the boy took seed asured, precise, a demonstration of confidence that drew attention like iron to a magnet. Sun’s face didn’t change, but the faint twitch of a jaw muscle betrayed the tension coiled beneath the surface.
When he finally tore his gaze away, his hands clenched tightly at his sides, knuckles white under the thin gloves of his uniform.
Byun noticed first. His grin, which often masked any seriousness, faded into a quiet frown. He nudged Tirel lightly, catching her attention as she adjusted her stride beside Yuna.
"I’ll catch up," he muttered, the words low, almost casual, but threaded with intent.
Tirel arched an eyebrow, her usual smirk teasing in tone but sharp with understanding. "Going to poke the prince again?"
"Soone has to," Byun said simply, the weight of his voice belying the ease of his grin. He let the group move ahead, keeping his pace deliberate but unhurried, slipping down the edge of the steps toward Sun
The crowd began to disperse behind them, a wave of students chattering, calling Jae’s na, tossing quick greetings or small nods of respect. So waved; others bowed their heads or whispered excitedly to friends beside them. Tirel laughed softly at a comnt from one of the younger cadets,
Yuna smiled shyly in response to a greeting, and Fin flung his hands into the air, waving as if to say hello to every cadet he passed. Elise stayed close to Jae’s side, careful not to be caught in the swirl of attention, her calm composure keeping the group grounded amid the chaos of admiration and awe.
Byun reached Sun at the edge of the stairs, the space between them filled with the faint rustle of wind and distant laughter. He gave a casual smile, hands in pockets, trying to keep the motion light, almost conversational. "Didn’t expect to see you out here this early," he said. "Thought you hated crowds."
Sun’s eyes flicked toward him for the briefest mont, sharp and unreadable, before returning to Jae in the distance. "I ca to see what all the noise was about," he said, voice calm, even, but carrying a quiet weight that didn’t need to be raised to command attention
"Yeah," Byun replied lightly, tossing his words over the small space between them. "Our boy makes a lot of noise these days."
There was no answer. The silence stretched between them, longer than either seed to want, filled only by the hum of distant chatter, the scrape of boots on stone, and the rustle of cloaks in the morning breeze.
Byun sighed and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, the movent both casual and deliberate, trying to ease the tension coiling in his shoulders. "You’ve been quiet since we got back," he said, tone softening but carrying a pointed edge, just enough to draw Sun’s attention without breaking the surface of calm.
"I’ve been busy," Sun said flatly, the words clipped, precise, but there was sothing in the way his jaw tightened that suggested the explanation was far from enough.
"That’s not it," Byun countered, voice firr now, leaving no room for misinterpretation. His eyes didn’t flinch, staying fixed on Sun’s face, searching for the flicker of honesty beneath the surface.
Sun’s gaze snapped toward him, dark and sharp. "What do you want to say, Byun?"
"Maybe the truth," Byun said, quieter now, asured but unyielding. "You’re angry. At him. At . At everyone, I guess."
The prince’s expression didn’t change, his face a mask of stillness, but sothing sharper flashed behind his dark eyes, a tension that refused to dissipate. "You’re imagining things," he said, voice low but edged with quiet accusation.
"I’m not," Byun said, softer this ti, leaning a fraction closer, letting his tone carry weight without needing volu. "You’ve barely spoken to since the siege. And don’t pretend it’s just about the war."
For a mont, neither moved, both aware of the space between them, the sunlight catching the sharp angles of Sun’s uniform and the faint flicker of shadows over Byun’s face. The wind shifted, tugging at their cloaks, stirring the edges of hair, and carrying faint snippets of distant chatter from the courtyard below.
Finally, Sun exhaled sharply, the sound slicing through the quiet, tight and tired. "You chose him," he said, voice low, deliberate, and heavy with unspoken frustration.
Byun blinked, taken aback for just a mont. "What?"
"You chose him," Sun repeated, tone firm, unyielding. "You used to stand by . Then that... farmboy shows up, and suddenly you’re laughing with him, fighting beside him, calling him friend."
Byun’s grin vanished completely, replaced by sothing softer, more asured, as he ran a hand through his hair and looked away briefly, gathering his thoughts. "You’re serious?" he asked, voice calm but edged with incredulity.
Sun’s dark eyes narrowed, sharp as steel. "Don’t act surprised," he said, quiet but carrying the weight of accusation.
Byun turned back, eting that gaze, eyes steady now. "I didn’t choose anyone, Sun. We fought together. That’s all. He’s not your enemy."
"He’s not my friend," Sun said sharply, the words slicing the air, precise and deliberate.
Byun’s gaze softened, but didn’t break. He leaned just slightly, speaking quietly, each word deliberate. "He doesn’t have to be. But you and I" He hesitated, searching for the right phrasing, the tone that would bridge the gap between the past and now. "We’ve been through too much to start drawing lines now. You could still talk to him. To . It doesn’t have to be like this."
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