By Zephyria 
Led by the hand Yeon So-jeong was holding, Seo Yi-kyung sat beside her. Butler Do lifted the teapot and filled the teacups.
“Are you feeling unwell anywhere?”
Seo Yi-kyung couldn’t even remember how he had walked this far. He had walked in such a daze. Only now did it feel as if his entire body was about to crumble. Despite that, Seo Yi-kyung nodded.
“No.”
“Did you have lunch?”
“Yes.”
A subtle scent of lavender clung to Yeon So-jeong’s dress. It wasn’t unpleasant; rather, it was a comforting fragrance. Seo Yi-kyung answered her questions calmly.
As she drank her tea, Yeon So-jeong turned her head as if suddenly remembering something.
“I heard you paint.”
“Yes.”
Seo Yi-kyung gave a faint smile. He answered while hiding his anxious heart.
“There are still many lacking areas.”
“Still, since you’re here, may I take a look?”
Yeon So-jeong set her teacup down on the saucer. Seo Yi-kyung, who had been mechanically answering “Yes” all along, couldn’t help but hesitate for a moment. It was only natural, as his paintings were still full of deficiencies. It felt as though Yeon So-jeong caught that momentary change in expression.
“Is that not allowed?”
“Ah, no, it’s not that.”
Seo Yi-kyung straightened his posture. She wasn’t just anyone; she was Han Seung-jae’s mother. That made it even harder to find words to refuse. Showing the paintings wasn’t the difficult part, but he still couldn’t match the skill of the previous paintings.
Seo Yi-kyung left the drawing room. Because Yeon So-jeong walked slowly, he had to match her pace, which made the pain feel less intense than before. He didn’t know whether to call that a relief or not. Butler Do followed behind them.
“This way.”
Seo Yi-kyung went ahead and opened the door to the painting studio. The large studio was shaped like a massive dome. Various patterns were elaborately carved into the ceiling and walls. Seo Yi-kyung stepped inside.
Yeon So-jeong gazed at a painting on the wall depicting a languid afternoon. Soon, her gaze swept over the oil paints on the shelf and the tools neatly arranged on the work table.
Seo Yi-kyung observed her expression from the corner of his eye. Though it had been difficult, he felt truly relieved that he had cleared things away in advance. Not that he had expected her to come.
“There are many curious things here.”
Seo Yi-kyung murmured, as if betraying his own guilt. For a painting studio, the glass display cases, the sword on the work table, and even the red sports car were far too out of place. Seo Yi-kyung felt his mouth go dry every time Yeon So-jeong’s gaze landed on them. However, Yeon So-jeong didn’t say anything particular. The thought crossed his mind that perhaps such things weren’t that strange to her.
Eventually, Yeon So-jeong’s gaze stopped in front of a wooden easel. A canvas was resting upon it.
“It looks like you were painting the garden.”
Yeon So-jeong’s voice spread pleasantly. She didn’t take her eyes off the canvas, as if appreciating a piece of art. Seo Yi-kyung stood a short distance away, following her gaze.
“There are still… many unskilled parts.”
Compared to the canvases in the corner and the paintings Jin Seon-yu used to paint, it looked insignificant. His hand was slow, and he worried too much before drawing anything. Even the trees that Jin Seon-yu could express easily and quickly with a few strokes were often ruined by Seo Yi-kyung, despite his repeated attempts to mimic them. Thus, there were no trees in Seo Yi-kyung’s garden, only a abundance of grass.
Jin Seon-yu had comforted him, saying that with a little more effort, he would recover all his old intuition, but Seo Yi-kyung never had such intuition to lose in the first place. Therefore, he couldn’t produce a good painting.
“I don’t think so. Because there are no trees or things blocking the view, it looks more charming. When you finish it, would you gift it to me?”
Yeon So-jeong turned around. Seo Yi-kyung couldn’t answer immediately. He blinked, unable to take his eyes off his canvas. Then, Yeon So-jeong spoke with a smile.
“I shall pay the price.”
Only then did Seo Yi-kyung smile back awkwardly. She truly was Han Seung-jae’s mother. Just now, the feeling was exactly the same. The only difference was that Han Seung-jae didn’t smile like her. Still, he was simply grateful that she viewed his painting favorably.
Returning to the drawing room, Yeon So-jeong picked up the hat she had taken off. As she put the hat on and turned around, her face was half-hidden by the veil. Butler Do picked up her coat from the sofa and draped it over her shoulders.
“By the way, your stomach isn’t showing at all. How many weeks along is the baby?”
Only after finishing her preparations to leave did Yeon So-jeong seem to ask the question she most wanted to know. Seo Yi-kyung spoke calmly.
“It has been about six weeks.”
That was likely why it wasn’t showing.
“I have instructed them to have the car waiting.”
Yeon So-jeong had come here accompanied by her own driver. Butler Do stepped forward. Yeon So-jeong followed behind him.
“You don’t need to come out. Take good care of your health.”
Then, as Yeon So-jeong brushed past Seo Yi-kyung, she whispered softly. It was a murmur so small that it wouldn’t even reach the ears of Butler Do, who was walking ahead.
“…….”
Hearing her words, Seo Yi-kyung turned around. He stepped forward, following Yeon So-jeong as she walked away with her back straight.
“Please get home safely.”
Seo Yi-kyung watched Yeon So-jeong pass through the garden and get into the car. Even though she told him not to come out, he didn’t feel like staying inside the house. Seo Yi-kyung watched until the car faded into the distance.
“The wind is cold, Young Master. Please head inside.”
Butler Do held the iron gate and pushed it. As Seo Yi-kyung entered the garden, the gate closed firmly behind him.
* * *
Seo Yi-kyung sat on the living room sofa for a while. Part of it was because he was in too much pain to go up to the second floor. Having rushed and even run, the pain had worsened. He didn’t know how much time had passed as he ruminated on what Yeon So-jeong had said. Suddenly, Butler Do’s voice drifted in.
“Welcome back, Director Han.”
“Yes.”
Seo Yi-kyung’s head turned back slowly.
“What are you doing here?”
The dark suit draping over his broad shoulders blended exquisitely with Han Seung-jae’s refined features. It was enough to make one doubt if this was the same man who had pressed Seo Yi-kyung’s head into the bed the previous night, gripping his hips to rub his cock against him.
Han Seung-jae leaned both arms on the back of the sofa. His gaze landed on the table. There sat tea and an untouched apple.
Whether he knew Han Seung-jae was looking at those things or not, Seo Yi-kyung looked up at him, trying to find a flaw.
Perhaps because he had just seen his mother, their gazes seemed similar. However, Han Seung-jae’s gaze was sharper and colder. Did that mean he resembled his father, Han Yechan, more? If there was a flaw in Han Seung-jae, perhaps it was his indifferent personality. He tended not to show much interest in the emotions of others. But looking at him lately, it seemed that might not be entirely true.
“Were you drinking tea?”
“Yes.”
Seo Yi-kyung answered just as he had in front of Yeon So-jeong. He stared blankly at Han Seung-jae before slowly standing up.
He didn’t want to say that he hadn’t moved because he was in pain. But he worried that doing this might make it look as if he had been waiting for him. Not that Han Seung-jae was the type of person to care about such things.
“The apple too?”
Seo Yi-kyung looked down at the same spot.
“I didn’t touch it.”
Seo Yi-kyung took a step. His knees kept buckling weakly. However, feeling Han Seung-jae’s gaze on his back, he steadfastly headed toward the elevator.
“Bring it to the room.”
Han Seung-jae looked back. His hand pointed to the apple on the table. Butler Do replied that he understood and turned around.
“I will prepare it for you immediately.”
Butler Do took out a teapot engraved with gold patterns, filled it with hot tea, and placed precious teacups on a tray. Along with that, he neatly sliced apples, green grapes, strawberries, and cherries to accompany the tea. This was because he had watched Seo Yi-kyung barely eat the apple.
Butler Do diligently headed to the second floor using the stairs. He passed through the long hallway and arrived in front of the bedroom. When he knocked, Han Seung-jae’s voice was heard.
As Butler Do carefully opened the door, he saw Seo Yi-kyung perched on the edge of the bed and the back of Han Seung-jae, who had taken off his suit jacket and was undoing his cuff links.
“Leave it there and go.”
Han Seung-jae didn’t even glance his way. Butler Do placed the teapot, teacup, and the plate of fruit on the table and turned to leave.
Behind him, Han Seung-jae’s voice rang clearly through the room.
“What conversation did you have with my mother?”