Mi-Reu focused her intent on the Quick Recall option. The now-familiar confirmation prompt materialized in the dim light of the room.

  [300 Yang will be deducted for Quick Recall, do you wish to proceed?

  Y/N]

  Mi-Reu focused her mind on the image of the livestock workers, the horrific rashes of the Red Death, and the phrase smallpox immunity, cattle.' She mentally pressed 'Y'.

  Then, a single image crystallized with jarring clarity: a diagram from a high school history textbook about the origins of the first vaccine.

  “The letter you requested, Your Highness,” Escort Choi whispered, his voice barely audible over the rustle of the night wind. He handed Crown Prince Yi-Joon a small, folded parchment.

  Above the palace courtyard, the moon hung heavy and luminous, casting a silvery, ethereal glow over the stone tiles. Most of the servants, noble guests, and even the royal family had long since retired to their chambers, but the Crown Prince remained restless. Since the horrific incident at the village, sleep had become a stranger to him.

  As Prince Yi-Joon unfolded the letter and began to read, his stern features softened. For a fleeting moment, a foolishly bright smile broke across his face, lighting up his eyes.

  Escort Choi, observing from a respectful distance, couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement. It must be a love letter from Lady Shin, he thought to himself. Ah, the sweet, oblivious nature of young love.

  However, as Prince Yi-Joon reached the final lines of the letter, the smile vanished. His face grew solemn, his jaw tightening as he descended into a heavy, contemplative silence. He let out a long, thoughtful breath before finally speaking.

  “Escort Choi...”

  “Yes, Your Highness?” the guard replied, his curiosity piqued by the Prince’s sudden shift in mood.

  “The Inspector General and the Royal Soldiers... they have been arresting butchers, tanners and their families from across the provinces, have they not?” Prince Yi-Joon asked, his gaze fixed on the moon.

  Though hesitant to discuss the specifics of a judicial purge, Escort Choi answered truthfully. “Yes, that is the case. They are being detained under the official suspicion of conspiring to spread the Red Death plague.”

  “And what of their testimonies?” Prince Yi-Joon’s voice turned cold and sharp. “What did these people say in their own defense during the interrogation? Has any of this been presented to Father or Royal Court Ministers?”

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  “That... I do not believe so, Your Highness,” Escort Choi admitted, his tone somber. “The matter of their testimony is not considered 'worthy' of the Royal Court’s time. To discuss the words of the lowly in such a sacred hall is seen as a slight against the kingdom's dignity.”

  He paused, glancing at the Prince before finishing. “As they occupy the absolute lowest rung of our social hierarchy, the ministers believe their pleas are nothing more than the desperate lies of the 'unclean.' They do not believe such words deserve to be heard within these walls.”

  “So, we are to have no record of their side of the story?” Prince Yi-Joon’s voice trembled with a controlled, simmering anger. “We are simply going to assume they have cursed our people, basing our judgment entirely on the prejudices of the court rather than the truth of the matter? We are condemning them without even the pretense of a fair hearing?”

  “If I may speak freely, Your Highness...” Escort Choi said cautiously. “Bringing this matter before the court would only cause a political uproar. It wouldn't fix the situation. The tradition of the 'unclean' is older than any of us; the ministers will not change their minds for the sake of a butcher's word.”

  He understood the Prince’s logical frustration, the idea that an accused person should be allowed to explain themselves before judgment was rendered. But the reality of the world was far harsher for those deemed beneath the dignity of the law.

  “If obtaining an official testimony through the proper channels is impossible,” Prince Yi-Joon stated, his eyes flashing with a new, dangerous resolve, “then I shall go to them myself. I will hear their words with my own ears, outside the shadow of the court.”

  “The moon’s beauty is immaculate tonight... yet it is those very dark patches, the ones that make it unique, that render an obstacle for its perfection,” Lady Shin Soo-In murmured. Her voice was somber, though an affectionate smile lingered on her lips as she gazed at the silver orb from the quiet courtyard of the guest wing.

  Sitting beside her, her long-time head lady-in-waiting began clearing away the tea service. She glanced nervously at the surrounding shadows before whispering, “Was it truly wise to send a letter to His Highness at such an hour, Lady Shin? Had you been caught, the Royal Court, already tense due to the Red Death, would have dealt a severe punishment for such ‘undignified’ conduct.”

  “It’s funny, isn’t it?” Lady Shin said, her eyes never leaving the moon. “I cannot even freely convey the words of my heart to my own betrothed, the man I am to be married to in the very near future.”

  “Such is the nature of the palace, My Lady,” the attendant added with a sympathetic bow.

  “I merely wished to tell him to take care of himself during these troubled times,” Lady Shin said, her smile turning sweet yet weary. “And I wanted to mention the twins' findings. Gi-Reu was so disappointed that they couldn't get their hands on the official statements from the arrested butchers. I suggested that if His Highness Yi-Joon has access to them, perhaps he could cooperate with the twins in uncovering the truth.”

  The lady-in-waiting sighed, setting the tray down. “Sympathy for the people is a noble trait, Lady Shin. But giving away too much of yourself to protect others will eventually cause you harm. I understand that you wish to assist the twins in identifying the cause of the Red Death and finding a way to prevent it.”

  She paused, looking at Lady Shin with maternal concern. “But I do not wish to see you put yourself in danger for a trivial matter.”

  “A trivial matter...” Lady Shin muttered, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. To the court, the lives of a few butchers were indeed trivial, but she could still see the fire at the village and hear the young man’s screams.