The room felt suffocating. My chest was tight, my breath uneven. The name vin-jungoon burned itself into my mind like a curse.

My father’s most trusted man. His brother-in-arms. The one who stood beside him in war, in blood, in death.

And he was the one who handed him over.

I dug my fingers into the chair beneath me, my nails scraping against the wood. My body felt cold, but my head was burning.

Kevin’s words kept playing over and over again. It wasn’t just an ambush. It was a set-up.

I could see it. My father standing tall, thinking he was fighting alongside his people. Until the knives were in his back. Until the city was in flames. Until he realized... they had never been his people at all.

And vin-jungoon had watched it all happen.

Laughed, maybe.

Or worse—he didn’t care.

I gritted my teeth, swallowing the nausea rising in my throat. I felt something inside me—something ugly, something raw, something I didn’t have a name for. It wasn’t just anger. It was hatred.

“What did he do?” My voice came out hoarse.

Kevin exhaled through his nose, eyes dark. “He walked away.”

A sharp pain stabbed through my chest.

“When Mahon fell, we were losing. It was chaos. But Vin?” Kevin let out a bitter chuckle. “He wasn’t there. He wasn’t fighting. He was running. With them.”

I felt my fingers twitch. My breathing slowed.

I imagined it.

My father, bleeding, struggling to stand. Reaching out. Calling for a man he trusted. And Vin, turning his back on him.

I tried to picture what kind of expression Vin had worn.

Did he hesitate? Did he feel guilt?

Or did he smile?

My stomach twisted.

I wanted to kill him.

I wanted to rip his throat out and listen to him beg.

I wanted him to feel what my father felt—betrayed. Alone. Dying.

Kevin must have seen it in my face because he shook his head. “You’re not ready.”

“I don’t care.” My voice was empty.

“You should.” His tone was sharp. “You think you can walk up to him now? With what? A blade and a grudge? Do you know how that ends?”

I didn’t answer.

Kevin leaned in, voice low. “With your skull caved in and your body dumped in the dirt.”

I clenched my fists.

He exhaled, stepping back. “Your father fought like hell to protect us. You think he’d want his own son to die like a dog?”

I swallowed hard.

The image of my father wouldn’t leave my head. I could almost hear him—his voice, his laughter, the way he might’ve said my name.

But I never knew him.

And I never would.

Because of Vin-jungoon.

I exhaled slowly. My voice was quiet, but steady. “Fine.”

Kevin raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll wait,” I said. “I’ll train.” I looked him in the eye. “But make no mistake.”

I leaned forward.

“I’m going to kill him.”

Kevin stared at me for a long moment. Then, he smiled.

"Good," he said. "Because that's exactly what I plan to teach you."