“Yes, sir.”
Snapping back to his senses belatedly, Secretary Lee made a deliberate effort to turn himself around, opened the door, and stepped out.
With the table momentarily vacated, a wine sommelier entered and offered Kwon Gi-jeong a tasting. He, appearing somewhat more subdued than before, made his selection.
“This one.”
“I’ll prepare a tasting for you. If I may say a word about this wine——”
“No need for the explanation. I’ve had it before, so I know.”
“……An exceptionally fine choice, sir.”
Kwon Gi-jeong was not the sort to lend an ear to anyone else’s words. Even so, the wine sommelier navigated the exchange with practiced ease.
In the wake of the sommelier’s departure, a faint silence settled in. Seo-in’s hands, which until just a moment ago had been moving as he looked down at the food he wasn’t going to eat, dropped to his lap as though they had nowhere else to go.
During all of this, Kwon Gi-jeong was swirling his wine glass in slow circles. But his eyes remained fixed on Park Seo-in in front of him.
Seo-in felt as though Kwon Gi-jeong was sweeping his gaze over him from head to toe. And yet — strangely, it felt less like being looked at and more like being licked from top to bottom. Was that just his imagination?
Yes, it must surely be his imagination. Without realizing it, as though feeling exactly where that gaze was landing, Seo-in swept his palm across his cheek. Kwon Gi-jeong’s eyes had a certain quality to them — a sense of relentless fixation. He was the type who held nothing back when it came to how he regarded people.
Tap. The ring that didn’t quite fit slid awkwardly against his cheek. But the sizing would be corrected — Secretary Lee would have a new one made to fit. It had been that way in the past, too.
Kwon Gi-jeong’s arm rose. The cufflinks on his dress shirt sleeve glinted. He savored the wine briefly, then continued to watch Park Seo-in.
Knock, knock.
Seo-in’s gaze drifted in the direction of the sound, as though instinctively responding to it. The silence hadn’t stretched on for all that long, but it couldn’t exactly be called a comfortable stretch of time either.
“As requested, we’ve brought a freshly prepared dish.”
“This is enough for me — just set it on this side.”
Kwon Gi-jeong still had the wine glass in hand. The manager moved with practiced ease and refilled his glass.
Whether that was happening or not, Kwon Gi-jeong continued to watch Seo-in across from him and gave a nod in his direction.
“Eat. I noticed earlier you hadn’t managed a single bite. Was the meat too tough? You were just cutting it without actually eating.”
The manager glanced at Seo-in with an attentive look. Seo-in’s hands reached forward again. He picked up the fork and knife. The meat seemed to cut considerably more easily than before.
“Please let us know if there is anything lacking.”
“Will do. You may go.”
Perhaps it was the finger wearing the ring that held the knife — there seemed to be slightly more force there. Along the gently parted grain of the steak, a red cross-section was coming into view. This alone seemed to make the freshness of the meat abundantly clear.
Seo-in slowly placed a piece of meat in his mouth. Something he had come to know from living together — Kwon Gi-jeong’s palate was exacting.
Of course, it wasn’t Seo-in who did the cooking in the mansion, but he had eyes and ears, and so he had heard what the household staff said.
Seo-in slowly swallowed the remaining piece of meat, then unhurriedly reached for the linen napkin and tidied the corners of his mouth.
“……Not as bad as I expected.”
Thinking back on it now, Kwon Gi-jeong’s tastes in food weren’t exactly the kind that were easy to cater to. Back then, Seo-in had kept himself on edge, trying not to miss a single shift in Gi-jeong’s ever-changing moods, always reading him and following his lead.
Kwon Gi-jeong, who had been quietly watching that, lifted the glass he’d been swirling and savored the wine, then set it down lightly on the table with a soft thud. But given that the one doing so was Kwon Gi-jeong, it carried no small amount of pressure.
“Not as bad as expected? Bold words from someone who forced it down.”
“……”
Seo-in tried to retrace his own expression. He’d thought it wouldn’t be obvious — and yet Kwon Gi-jeong was already speaking as though he’d seen straight through to the inside. Making excuses in a situation like this would be pointless. And even before Seo-in could work through that, Kwon Gi-jeong’s words continued.
“Endure it for exactly two years. During the marriage, we’ll each do our best to fulfill our respective roles. And then we part cleanly.”
Kwon Gi-jeong turned over the reports Secretary Lee had been delivering all this time in his mind. He’d originally intended to make it one year, but one could never predict how things would go with people.
Having said his piece, Kwon Gi-jeong waited for Park Seo-in’s answer. It suddenly crossed his mind, unbidden, that he was spending time on something that he could have simply declared and walked away from.
The rest could be handled by Secretary Lee — there was no need for Kwon Gi-jeong to remain tied to this table any longer. And yet Kwon Gi-jeong didn’t register the fact that he was still sitting there, as though standing guard over the moment.
It’s only two years — but taking the time to at least hear out the person he’ll be sharing his life with as a spouse isn’t asking much. That’s all there is to it. He folded away his thoughts at precisely that.
“Understood.”
Even Seo-in’s answer, when it came back, didn’t fall outside of Kwon Gi-jeong’s expectations. There was no one at this table who didn’t know what kind of meeting this was. Just as Kwon Gi-jeong was about to open his mouth to continue, Seo-in — who had done nothing but listen up until now — spoke up first, just a beat faster.
“That’s actually more than enough time for me, too.”
“More than enough?”
Seo-in let his gaze sweep slowly around the room. As a place that hosted important figures, the interior prioritized formality — modern, yet warm enough in atmosphere to ease any stiffness in the air. Against one wall stood a tree in full bloom. Taking in all of that, Seo-in continued.
“At least, I don’t think it’ll fall short.”
Inside the car moving swiftly through the city, Secretary Lee sat in the passenger seat, clutching the now-empty velvet box. The ring that had been inside it had been taken away just like that, still on Park Seo-in’s hand.
Having kept his gaze fixed ahead the entire time, Secretary Lee ventured carefully to speak.
“I’ll reach out to Park Seo-in separately tomorrow.”
“Do as you like.”
Secretary Lee would meet with Park Seo-in separately and have a new ring made to properly fit his finger. No matter how indifferent Kwon Gi-jeong was, no matter how little interest he showed in this marriage.
Tap, tap.
The tips of Kwon Gi-jeong’s fingers moved at a steady rhythm, as though his mind were somewhere else entirely.
“Was there something that troubled you, sir?”
Secretary Lee asked with careful caution. He had been just outside the door, but it wasn’t as though he could overhear even their quieter exchanges. The deeper things that had passed between the two of them — those were beyond his knowing. All he could do was infer from what he knew of Kwon Gi-jeong’s nature. And if there was a problem, it was Secretary Lee’s job to resolve it immediately.
“It just doesn’t sit right.”
“Does Park Seo-in not suit your taste, sir?”
And yet — hadn’t Gi-jeong, in a manner entirely unlike himself, called Secretary Lee in and pressed him to produce the ring? That meant Kwon Gi-jeong had, to some degree, had Park Seo-in in mind as the other party for this marriage. If that hadn’t been the case, he never would have called for Secretary Lee, and Secretary Lee never would have been heading back with an empty ring box like this.
“Is he playing games with me.”
“Pardon?”
Secretary Lee’s eyes went wide, but as ever, Kwon Gi-jeong paid no more attention to Secretary Lee than if he weren’t there at all.
Seeing that Kwon Gi-jeong appeared lost in thought, Secretary Lee closed his mouth and quietly turned back to face forward.
— I’ll have you dropped off.
……The moment Kwon Gi-jeong had come face to face with Park Seo-in as he was leaving the room replayed itself before his eyes.
He’d said it because, at least in name, this was the person it had been decided he would marry. And the answer that came back was delivered in a composed, unhurried tone.
— No. I have somewhere to stop by. You go on ahead.
Having said that, Seo-in had walked away without so much as a glance back. He’d apparently driven himself there — no attendant or escort was visible anywhere.
“He came to meet me and had another appointment lined up.”
Kwon Gi-jeong had never once been treated with dismissal — or anything resembling a refusal. And on top of that, throughout everything Kwon Gi-jeong had said, Seo-in had simply listened. As though he already knew that the power in this marriage rested with Kwon Gi-jeong. Seo-in hadn’t wavered in the slightest at any of the words Kwon Gi-jeong had laid out. Could Gi-jeong really claim to have been the one in control, then……
Even so, Kwon Gi-jeong composed himself. It wasn’t as though they were going to be in each other’s lives for long, after all. This was a relationship that would be severed the moment its necessary purpose was fulfilled. And that deadline wasn’t far off.
