“You were out here?”
Butler Do set down the tray he was carrying. It held tea and cookies. Yi Kyung reached out, picked up a cookie, and bit into it. As he crunched it between his teeth, sweetness spread across his tongue.
Butler Do’s gaze settled on Yi Kyung’s wrist. Still chewing, Yi Kyung pointed to the seat opposite him.
“Sit down.”
Butler Do slowly bent his knees and took a seat. His eyes remained fixed on Yi Kyung’s wrist. After glancing around, he leaned closer as though about to whisper something confidential.
“Wouldn’t it be better to discuss this with your father?”
Yi Kyung turned to look at Butler Do, then took another bite of the cookie in his hand. There was no malice behind the suggestion. The concern in Butler Do’s eyes was genuine.
“…….”
Yi Kyung picked up the teacup, removed its lid, and drained it in one go as though parched. He set down the cup and wiped his wet lips with the back of his hand. The unfamiliar ring grazed the corner of his mouth.
“You know it wouldn’t do any good even if I told him.”
Butler Do closed his mouth at Yi Kyung’s words.
“He probably knew everything already.”
There was no possibility that Yi Kyung’s father had been unaware of Seung Jae’s temperament. Yi Kyung rose from his seat.
Moreover, Seung Jae had dealt with older, more experienced people in the original novel. Among them were those who resented the sight of such a young man wielding enormous sums of money before their eyes. Even so, most cast aside their pride, bowed their heads, and devoted themselves to him in hopes of securing his investment.
Patience meant no more to Seung Jae than a breeze brushing past his fingers. He did whatever he pleased, however he pleased. If something offended his eyes, he simply removed it from sight.
And telling Yi Kyung’s father clearly would not improve the situation in the slightest. To that family, “Seo Yi Kyung” was merely a rare dominant omega—a means of gaining access to Han Seung Jae, nothing more and nothing less.
More importantly, shaking “Seo Yi Kyung” made money come jingling out, and nothing could have suited them better. Speaking up would only leave him worse off, giving them an excuse to demand money from Seung Jae over it.
Yi Kyung looked down at his wrist. Seung Jae had only tugged him briefly before releasing him, yet he had bruised this easily.
As he started walking, Yi Kyung took another cookie from the tray and slipped it into his cardigan pocket. Butler Do rose to follow him.
The two walked side by side along the path they had taken earlier. Yi Kyung looked around, scratched his forehead, and tried to recall a detail that remained hazy in his memory.
“Oh, is there a landscape painting with cherry blossoms?”
“……Cherry blossoms?”
Butler Do, carrying the tray in one hand, answered after a brief delay. Yi Kyung stared into the distance and nodded.
“Yes.”
The original Yi Kyung had loved art and must have produced countless paintings. It would hardly be strange if several of his landscapes included cherry blossoms.
Rather than searching for every painting himself, Yi Kyung thought it would be quicker to ask the person most likely to know. He turned his head. Butler Do had stopped walking.
“……?”
His puzzlement lasted only a moment.
“Would you like to visit the painting studio?”
The back of Yi Kyung’s neck, relaxed until then, went rigid. Goose bumps prickled over his skin, and the fine hairs stood on end. Butler Do smiled and added, “I’m certain you’ll be pleased once you see it.”
After entering the house, Butler Do handed the tray to a passing housekeeper and led the way. Every so often, he looked back to make sure Yi Kyung was following. But Yi Kyung’s steps gradually slowed, as though he were reluctant to continue.
The painting studio had been prepared at the farthest end of the townhouse’s L-shaped structure. An entire section of the house had effectively been dedicated to painting.
Butler Do reached the studio door.
“Young Master? Young Master Yi Kyung……?”
Yi Kyung raised his lowered head. Butler Do turned slightly aside and opened the door wide.
The vast room was shaped like an enormous dome. Bright, intricate patterns adorned the ceiling and walls. Long shafts of sunlight reached deep inside, filling the empty studio awaiting its owner.
“Look at this. Isn’t it what you’ve always wanted? Everything here is brand-new.”
Butler Do busily picked up and set down the oil paints and tools arranged throughout the room, gesturing to the shelves lining the walls and the broad worktable.
He ran a hand across the well-used worktable, then opened one of its drawers. Inside were the pills Yi Kyung took to suppress his heat.
At the family home, Yi Kyung had kept his medicine there and taken it as needed. A heat cycle presented symptoms similar to a cold. Since Butler Do was a beta and could not detect pheromones, there had once been an awkward incident when he mistook Yi Kyung’s symptoms for a cold and gave him the wrong medicine. From then on, Yi Kyung had stored the pills there and managed his own doses.
Butler Do closed the drawer and moved on. He had brought other belongings Yi Kyung had treasured and used at the family home, but most of the studio’s contents were new. The room was so large that Yi Kyung’s possessions seemed to occupy only a small portion of one side.
Yi Kyung slowly looked around until his gaze settled upon the wooden easels arranged along the wall. Butler Do paused while handling a brush and watched him approach them.
Paintings rested on easels of various sizes. Countless others leaned against the wall beneath them.
Yi Kyung blinked. Standing before one easel, he reached out and traced the fresh summer sky of an unfinished painting. He had never properly studied art, yet even he could feel something from it.
The landscape was warm, filled with bright colors and a soft, comforting breeze.
“It seems you finally feel like painting again. Didn’t I tell you that you would be pleased once you came here?”
Butler Do approached and held out a brush. Yi Kyung looked at his smiling face, shook his head, and turned away.
This painting will never be finished.
A sedan stopped before the tall townhouse in Seongbuk-dong. Secretary Park got out first and opened the rear door. A long leg clad in a dark suit emerged from the car.
“Thank you. You can go home now.”
“I’ll return to pick you up tomorrow morning.”
“All right.”
Seung Jae passed through the open iron gate, crossed the garden, and entered the house. The housekeepers bowed as he passed. His gaze swept over Butler Do. When he failed to see the person he was looking for, he asked while walking past him, “Is he in his room?”
He did not specify whom he meant, but Butler Do could hardly have misunderstood.
“Ah, well…….”
Seung Jae tilted his head toward him. Butler Do quickly continued.
“After visiting the painting studio, he suddenly seemed to feel unwell and hasn’t left his room.”
The pale face Seung Jae had seen that morning briefly appeared before his eyes.
Did he paint in that condition?
Seung Jae continued walking. He entered the dressing room and removed his suit. Although he changed into something more comfortable, his clothes were by no means casual.
Seung Jae fastened his cuff buttons. When he opened the door and emerged, Butler Do immediately asked whether he would be having dinner.
“I’m not hungry. More importantly, did he like the painting studio?”
Butler Do faltered at the completely unrelated response, then nodded with a deliberately composed expression.
“Yes. He was very pleased with it.”
Seung Jae turned away. Watching him head toward the elevator, Butler Do swallowed dryly.
Butler Do managed and supervised every corner of this house. Designed by a world-renowned architect, it combined line and light with exquisite precision. It was evident that more care had gone into the painting studio than any other room except the bedroom. It had also been made the largest and most beautiful.
After stepping out of the elevator, Seung Jae walked down the corridor, his gaze passing indifferently over the paintings on the walls. When he opened the bedroom door, a painting of a dark, somber river and trees entered his view. He dismissed it and turned toward the bed.
The empty bed bore only traces of someone who had just left it.
Seung Jae’s gaze reached the partially open terrace door. Wind blew through the gap, making the curtains billow.
He strode forward without hesitation and swept the curtain aside. Yi Kyung stood on the terrace, looking down below. Light from the garden outlined his pale profile: slender, finely shaped eyebrows, a delicate nose, and tightly closed lips.
Yi Kyung was absorbed in something. He raised a hand and rubbed his eyes, then suddenly turned as though sensing someone’s gaze.
“!”
Yi Kyung flinched violently. The melancholy that had weighed on him since seeing the painting vanished at once. As Seung Jae opened the glass door and stepped outside, the back of Yi Kyung’s neck went rigid. It was as though he had only now realized that this was no time to lose himself in sentiment and remembered the reality before him.
Seung Jae’s sharp eyes swept across Yi Kyung’s face. His gaze settled on the reddened corners of Yi Kyung’s eyes.
“……?”
Overwhelmed by the pressure bearing down on him, Yi Kyung leaned back and curled his fingers tightly around the railing. If he did not hold on, he felt as though his knees might buckle beneath him.
“Were you crying?”
Seung Jae’s voice came out low. Yi Kyung’s fingers twitched around the railing.