The years passed like whispers in the wind, unnoticed by the world beyond the mountains. To the villagers, Dan-Bi was simply Master Baek's young apprentice, a quiet but determined boy who trained harder than most grown men. To her mother, she was everything—hope, vengeance, and a secret too dangerous to ever be revealed.
By fifteen, Dan-Bi no longer stumbled in battle drills. Her movements were precise, her strikes swift. The bruises Master Baek once left on her arms had faded, replaced by hardened muscles and a sharp mind honed for survival.
And yet, no matter how well she fought, no matter how convincingly she played her role, the weight of her secret only grew heavier.
---
"You're reckless."
Master Baek's voice was calm, but his disapproving gaze made Dan-Bi's stomach twist.
She stood before him, panting, her sword still drawn. The wooden training dummy behind her had been sliced cleanly in half, its pieces still rocking on the dirt floor.
"I won," she muttered, wiping the sweat from her brow.
"You were angry," Baek corrected. "You let emotion drive your blade. That kind of weakness will get you killed."
Dan-Bi scowled, gripping the hilt of her sword tighter. "Is it weakness to feel something?"
"Yes," he said without hesitation. "Especially for someone like you."
Dan-Bi knew what he meant. Someone like you—a girl masquerading as a boy. A royal bloodline hidden in a nameless village. An heir without a throne.
Her whole life was a lie balanced on a blade's edge.
Master Baek sheathed his own sword and stepped closer. "Listen to me, Dan," he said, lowering his voice. "You are not just a warrior. You are a ruler in the making. And a ruler cannot afford to be reckless."
Dan-Bi swallowed hard. She knew he was right. But knowing didn't make it any easier.
Before she could respond, a soft voice called her name.
"Dan."
She turned to see her mother standing in the doorway of their small home, her expression unreadable. "Come inside," she said. "We need to talk."
---
The flickering candlelight cast long shadows against the wooden walls. Dan-Bi sat cross-legged on the floor, her mother seated across from her.
A long silence stretched between them before her mother finally spoke.
"You are almost sixteen," she said, her voice measured. "It's time we talk about your future."
Dan-Bi's chest tightened. She knew this conversation was coming. She had felt it in her mother's watchful gaze, in the way her lessons had shifted from survival to strategy, in the way Master Baek spoke of politics rather than swordsmanship.
Still, she said nothing, waiting for her mother to continue.
"Master Baek has trained you well," her mother went on. "You are stronger than most men. You think like a warrior." A pause. "But you are not a common soldier, Dan-Bi. You were born to rule."
Dan-Bi inhaled sharply, her fingers curling into fists.
"I was born to die," she muttered. "If they ever find out—"
"They won't." Her mother's voice was firm, but her eyes gleamed with something Dan-Bi rarely saw—fear.
Dan-Bi looked down. She wanted to argue, wanted to tell her mother that she wasn't fit to rule, that she didn't need a kingdom that had already cast them out.
But the words refused to come.
Because deep down, no matter how much she resented it, she wanted to take back what was hers.
Her mother leaned forward, taking Dan-Bi's hands in hers. "You have a choice," she said softly. "We can stay here, hidden, forever. Or we can take back what was stolen from us."
Dan-Bi met her gaze, her heart pounding.
For the first time in her life, the weight of her name—her real name—settled fully upon her shoulders.
Dan-Bi. 端妃. The Rightful Queen.
She exhaled slowly, the fire in her chest burning brighter than ever.
"I choose to fight."
Her mother nodded, a sad, knowing smile on her lips.
"Then we begin."
And with those words, Dan-Bi's fate was sealed.
The boy who never should have existed was about to claim the throne that had once been denied to him.