First message
Yi Seon-jun stepped into the hall barefoot, his hair unbound, his robe hanging loose as if sleep still clung to him. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were sharp, already assessing the scene with a scholar’s speed and a gambler’s instinct.
“What is this noise, before the sun has even risen?”
The steward bowed. “My lord, the silver ring from your chest has been stolen. This servant was found nearest your quarters.”
Seon-jun looked at the ring, then at you, still kneeling.