Prologue

The sun bathed the palace in gold as the twin moons began their slow ascent above Alkiya’s towers. A warm breeze danced through the open arches of the royal balcony, ruffling Yuui’s silver hair as she reached for her teacup.

“You’ll lose in five moves,” Winter said, moving his knight with a soft clink.

“Four, actually,” Yuui replied with a grin, sliding her bishop across the board.

Winter blinked. “Wait—what?”

“Check.”

He stared at the board for a long moment, then leaned back with a theatrical sigh. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Yuui said, sipping her tea.

They sat like that often—between patrols, after sparring sessions, or during long lulls in the capital’s affairs. The kingdom was calm these days. The war drums were silent. The fields beyond the walls glowed green with peace.

Winter folded his arms and stared into the fading sky.

“Yuui,” he said softly, “what do you think is good? And what’s evil?”

She blinked. “That’s... sudden.”

“Answer it.”

Yuui furrowed her brow, setting her cup down. “Well... good is kindness. Mercy. Protecting the weak. Evil is... cruelty. Taking life without cause. You know, the obvious things.”

Winter nodded slowly. “Mm.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why that face?”

“No reason.”

“You're judging me.”

“I’m not,” he lied, tapping his fingers on the table. “But you didn’t give the real answer.”

“Oh?” she challenged. “Then enlighten me, O wise philosopher of the chessboard.”

He didn’t smile. His voice grew quiet.

“Good is what lets you keep going. Evil is what makes you stop.”

Yuui tilted her head. “That’s... vague.”

“It’s survival, Yuui. At its core, life doesn’t care about kindness. The wind doesn’t care if you’re noble. The ocean doesn’t care if you’re cruel. What matters is what continues... and what ends.”

She frowned. “That sounds cold.”

“It’s the only warmth I’ve found in logic.”

Yuui leaned forward, studying him. “Where is this coming from? You’ve been strange lately.”

Winter finally looked at her—really looked.

“Don’t you ever wonder if we’ve just inherited the wrong definitions?” he asked. “What if we’ve been lied to about what’s good? What if our enemies believed they were the heroes?”

She was quiet for a moment. “And what if you start believing that the only thing that matters is power?”

He hesitated.

Then: “What if it is?”

Yuui’s fingers tightened on the table. “Then I’d hope I’d be strong enough to stop you. Even if you were my best friend.”

Winter smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “What a paradox.”

They sat in silence, the last of the sunlight slipping behind the horizon. A piece of the sky fell from blue into blood-orange.

Yuui reached across the board and reset the pieces. “Your move,” she said gently. “Try not to lose in four.”

He moved a pawn without looking at it.

As the breeze grew colder, Winter whispered, more to himself than to her:

“One day, I’ll ask you again. But when I do... I’ll be the question, not the one asking it.”

Yuui didn’t understand what he meant—not then.

But someday, she would.