"A mystical room, hidden from time, holds a secrets-keeping book. Penned by a prince who trusted magic for his mate, its pages whisper tales of his eternal love, his heart beating solely for his destined partner. 'So now you're reading this, my dear...
"Princess—Prince Jong Gyu..." the maid's voice trembled as she rushed forward, her breath was coming in ragged gasps.
Jiseul's smile vanished instantly, her face was tightening with worry. "What about my brother?" she asked, her tone was sharp and urgent.
The maid gulped and lowered her head, unable to meet the princess's eyes. "He... he collapsed, Your Highness. The servants are attending to him now, but his condition seems severe."
Jiseul shot up from the bed, her previous warmth replaced by sheer panic. "Collapsed?"
"In his chamber... but his condition is worsening," the maid whispered, her voice was breaking under the weight of the news. "Prince Taehyung hasn't been informed yet, as he is not in the castle he went to the forest with his companion. So, I came directly to you."
Jiseul's hand flew to her mouth, her gaze darted to Harin. "I have to go to him." She hurried towards the door, her steps were unsteady with anxiety.
Harin was still processing the abrupt shift in the atmosphere, she quickly moved to follow. They rushed down the corridor, their footsteps were echoing through the castle's stone halls as they made their way towards Jong Gyu's chamber- it was not far but it felt like it was on the other side of castle. The palace felt suddenly too quiet, the stillness was only amplifying the tension of the moment.
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As they approached the chamber, Harin could see the cluster of servants hovering nervously outside the door. One of them turned upon seeing Jiseul, he bowed deeply. "Princess, he has been faint for several minutes now. We're trying to stabilize him, but—"
"Let me in!" Jiseul ordered, her voice was steady despite the panic in her eyes. The servants parted to allow her and Harin to enter.
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Inside, Jong Gyu was laying on the bed, his face was pale, his breathing was shallow and labored. His chest was rising and falling unevenly, beads of sweat were trickling down his forehead. Inho, was hovering by his side, while dabbing his brow with a damp cloth, concern was etched on his face.
