Seokga-as-Hwanin makes his way into Deck 7’s casino, which is alive with the flashing lights of game machines and heavy with the sound of rolling dice. He fully desires to cheat guests out of their money, but Hwanin would never make his way toward the roulette tables in the back. Instead, Hwanin would politely order something from the glossy mahogany bar, which is what Seokga does. Comfortable with the knowledge that three (or four, if real-Hwanin is counted) pairs of eyes are subtly watching for any hint of the murderer, Seokga tries to enjoy his rum and Coke. It’s disgustingly sweet, but he makes himself drink it while waiting. The casino, in its chaotic semidarkness and loud noise, would be an opportune place for the perpetrator to grab a closer look at the Not-Dead god. There aren’t many other drinkers at this time of day, but he notices in his peripheral vision that the woman sitting a few seats away from him seems to be admiring his hair. Typical. Seokga cuts his gaze toward her, and his mood immediately sours when he sees that it’s Soo-min. The hypocrisy.

“Aren’t you working?” he bites out before he can stop himself, still rather peeved at her earlier interruption. But his voice is Hwanin’s voice, and the usual smooth tone sounds extremely odd with Seokga’s rough demand. Grimacing, he clears his throat. “I mean, hello.”

Soo-min chokes on her drink, still gaping at him.

Seokga sighs. Hwanin would reach over and pound her back, so he does.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” she gasps out, rubbing her throat.

Your Majesty. Instead of imitating Hwanin’s pleasant nod, Seokga finds himself abruptly turning back to his own drink. Once, all he’d wanted was his older brother out of the way. Before Hwanung, Seokga was next in line for the throne. Even when his nephew was born, Seokga had a grand plan to take both of them out at once and steal the title for himself. So many of his life’s greatest longings and sufferings are because of two little words—Your Majesty.

Years ago, perhaps Seokga would have reveled in being acknowledged as emperor, even in Hwanin’s form. Now he feels strangely dissatisfied. There’s something, someone, he wants instead, a bright-eyed woman with wild curls and a sharp mind who surprises him at every turn, whether it be with her fierce intellect or by dancing in the rain and joining him in cold waters.

Dr. Jang would call this positive growth. Seokga isn’t sure how positive it is, if the one thing he desires chooses to leave him—abandon him—once more. He hopes that, after Kisa is gone, he won’t again spiral into villainy…But who’s to say, really, what path he’ll turn to. This time, when she’s gone, she’s gone.

And all of this, these thirty-three years of searching, were for nothing.