By Zephyria 
Han Seung-jae watched as Seo Yi-kyung, who had been standing askew, raised a finger to point at his own chest. Though the distance made it hard to hear clearly, it seemed as if he were asking, “Me?”
Butler Do stepped forward, but Seo Yi-kyung spoke first.
“Over there.”
Seo Yi-kyung’s hand pointed toward the empty air.
“Then, shall I hang it in your room?”
Butler Do looked toward the upper floor, seemingly understanding.
“Yes.”
Seo Yi-kyung nodded readily with a bright smile, but the moment he turned around, his expression froze instantly. It felt as if the smile from a moment ago had been a lie.
As Han Seung-jae resumed his stopped pace, he heard the sound of a short breath behind him. It was a sound so faint it could have easily been buried by the footsteps of others.
Han Seung-jae’s brow furrowed. It was irritating his nerves maddeningly.
* * *
“Please sit this way.”
Butler Do pulled out a chair. Food was laid out across the ceramic dining table. Once Seo Yi-kyung sat down, plates began to be added following Butler Do’s gestures. Before long, Butler Do spotted someone and moved toward them. It was Han Seung-jae. Butler Do walked to the opposite side of Seo Yi-kyung and pulled out a chair to assist Han Seung-jae in sitting.
Perhaps because he had just showered, Han Seung-jae was dressed lightly with his shirt sleeves rolled up. A bit of moisture still lingered in his black hair.
Savoring the taste of the white porridge Butler Do had set down, Seo Yi-kyung glanced sideways. Han Seung-jae drank the entire glass of water.
“That’s enough, you may leave.”
Butler Do, who had been assisting beside Seo Yi-kyung, did not move, only shifting his eyes. Han Seung-jae set the empty glass down with a clack.
“Did you not hear me?”
It was a voice so chilling it was hard to believe it had come from Han Seung-jae. Throughout their marriage and their honeymoon in Switzerland, Han Seung-jae had remained consistently indifferent. His voice lacked inflection, leaving no room to perceive any emotion.
Sensing the sudden change in Han Seung-jae’s atmosphere, Butler Do looked down at Seo Yi-kyung, then carefully placed the plate he was holding and left the room.
Butler Do barely managed to keep his neck from turning back. He was overcome with worry about how the small young master, whom he had watched since childhood, would cope alone.
The opponent was far too formidable.
Who was Han Seung-jae? He was the man destined to lead the Myungjun Group.
The Myungjun Group owned banks, securities firms, and various other financial companies. Although Han Seung-jae was currently just one of the directors, rumors were openly circulating that an excessive amount of authority was already concentrated in his hands.
Under the guise of financial solutions, Han Seung-jae was creating markets and investing in the government and local municipalities.
Butler Do stole a glance back. He looked at the pitiful sight of the small young master with his head bowed. Anxiety clouded Butler Do’s face.
—Go, and live as if you were dead.
Before the marriage, Seo Yi-kyung’s father had spat those words out as if giving a blessing. The image of Seo Yi-kyung listening to those words without a single question flickered in his mind. On the surface, he had acted mature and composed, but Butler Do could glimpse a faint loneliness in his eyes.
* * *
Meanwhile, Seo Yi-kyung, who had been sitting with his head slightly bowed across the long table, looked up. Then, with a somewhat hesitant expression, he spoke.
“I don’t like you, Seung-jae, so you don’t have to worry about me.”
The Han Seung-jae he had seen in the original novel acted relatively mannerly and used formal language in front of ‘Seo Yi-kyung.’ This was despite the fact that he didn’t hesitate to act almost arrogantly toward others outside. Perhaps that was why ‘Seo Yi-kyung’ had not known what kind of person he truly was and had poured his entire soul into making the marriage work.
Furthermore, since it was still the beginning of the story, he decided it would be better to tell him clearly.
He would eventually find someone else anyway. He wanted to let him know that he wouldn’t mind at all if that happened. Therefore, there was no need for him to care or worry about him.
“…”
But was it an illusion, or did Han Seung-jae’s eyebrow twitch slightly?
He seemed about to say something, but then he swept his hair back. It was a slow movement, as if he were exercising patience. Soon after, he refilled the empty water glass. The green lime floating in the ice tilted along the long glass bottle.
However, Han Seung-jae’s gaze was fixed straight ahead. He constantly observed Seo Yi-kyung, who flinched every time their eyes met. Eventually, Seo Yi-kyung looked away. Knowing what kind of person Han Seung-jae was, he felt a delayed sense of anxiety.
Watching this, Han Seung-jae spoke.
“Seo Yi-kyung.”
Seo Yi-kyung’s chin jerked. Was his own name feeling unfamiliar because the speaker’s tone was excessively sharp?
As he tentatively turned his head, water filled to the brim of the glass overflowed onto the table following Han Seung-jae’s hand.
Even after the wedding and during their trip, Han Seung-jae had spent so much time working that he hadn’t spent much time facing ‘Seo Yi-kyung.’ They had only shared simple meals. Moreover, upon returning, ‘Seo Yi-kyung’ had suddenly fallen ill.
It seemed the rumors of his frail health were not mere hearsay. Because of this, he had been reported to spend most of his time at home painting, with his only outings being visits to art exhibitions. Thus, Han Seung-jae had been considerate in his own way.
Han Seung-jae stared at Seo Yi-kyung’s hand resting on the table. Unlike his own, it was a clean hand. A hand that painted and touched pigments. A hand that had never known hardship looked white and soft.
“I suppose you can’t figure things out because you grew up hearing only good things and seeing only good things.”
Seo Yi-kyung’s Adam’s apple bobbed slowly. Red alerts rang repeatedly in his head. Han Seung-jae lifted his gaze from the hand and met his eyes with a cold stare.
“My consideration ends here.”
He placed the empty glass bottle on the table. A clinking sound came from the bottle, in which only ice remained.
* * *
Butler Do walked hurriedly. Han Seung-jae, who brushed past him, was radiating coldness. Butler Do watched Han Seung-jae’s receding back and hurried forward.
Then, with a bewildered face, he looked at the water that had soaked the neatly set table and pooled on the floor. Then, as if realizing late, he asked.
“Did you have a quarrel?”
Seo Yi-kyung, who had been sitting and staring straight ahead until then, lifted his head.
“Ah.”
It was the moment Seo Yi-kyung tried to open his mouth. Butler Do grabbed Seo Yi-kyung’s arm and pulled him up. The frail body was pulled up without any significant resistance.
Butler Do called the helpers. Two people approached and began cleaning the table and the marble floor.
Seo Yi-kyung’s legs struggled to keep up with Butler Do, who walked ahead as if dividing them. “Wait…” His short cry was quickly buried in the commotion.
As Han Seung-jae appeared dressed in a suit, his secretary, who had been waiting in the drawing room, stepped out. After Secretary Park bowed twice in succession, Han Seung-jae stopped and looked back.
There stood Seo Yi-kyung in his pajamas. Butler Do, who was holding his arm, whispered something in his ear. Hearing this, Seo Yi-kyung looked at Butler Do, then looked straight ahead and met Han Seung-jae’s eyes. His bloodless lower lip parted hesitantly.
“Have a safe trip.”
The corners of Han Seung-jae’s eyes narrowed slightly. He noted Butler Do holding Seo Yi-kyung’s arm, then turned away.
To anyone, it looked like an action done because he was told to.
* * *
Seo Yi-kyung let out a long breath. As Han Seung-jae disappeared from sight, the feeling of being oppressed faded.
“Why did you say it like that?”
Butler Do was still tracing the back of the vanished Han Seung-jae. He had clearly suggested, ‘I’m sorry about this morning. Have a safe trip.’ But Seo Yi-kyung had stripped out the apology and only said the latter part.
Seo Yi-kyung looked down at his captured wrist. The slender wrist moved as Butler Do held and shook it.
“Butler… Do?”
Since a while ago, the intonation he used to call him was subtly different. However, Butler Do couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was different. Seo Yi-kyung tapped the back of Butler Do’s hand.
“Let go of this.”
Butler Do let go. Seo Yi-kyung rubbed his wrist. A red line had formed on his pale wrist. He looked up and questioned Butler Do.
“What did I do wrong?”
“…What?”
Butler Do opened his mouth late, but only a sigh escaped. His face looked somewhat dazed. He couldn’t say anything.
He also knew that Seo Yi-kyung had done nothing wrong. He wasn’t the type to cause trouble for others. If anything, the problem was that he couldn’t refuse and listened to others too well.
It was just that until now, whenever the kind, affectionate, and frail small young master looked troubled, Butler Do had taken the lead to resolve everything. The morning’s incident was nothing more than part of that series of situations.
Hoping he wouldn’t fall out of favor with Han Seung-jae. And to prevent him from hearing heartbreaking words from his father.
Butler Do had simply tried to settle the situation quickly based on his own judgment, as he always had. Without any regard for Seo Yi-kyung’s thoughts.
‘He’s not answering?’ Seo Yi-kyung moved his stopped feet with questioning eyes. He walked in the opposite direction from where Han Seung-jae had disappeared.
The ‘Seo Yi-kyung’ who loved Han Seung-jae was no longer here. He had simply stated that fact; it couldn’t be called a mistake, could it?
* * *
Inside the fast-moving car, Han Seung-jae’s eyes, as he flipped through a tablet PC at regular intervals, were filled with acuity. His eyes were following the astronomical numbers listed in the investment proposal, but for some reason, he couldn’t concentrate.
Sitting in the backseat, Han Seung-jae looked up. As the sedan stopped at an intersection due to a signal, his gaze reached a giant electronic billboard. It was an advertisement for a museum exhibition.
Secretary Park, sitting in the passenger seat, looked at the same spot.
“Shall I adjust your schedule?”
Han Seung-jae’s schedule, planned on a yearly basis, was tight. Moreover, work had piled up while he was married and traveling. Nevertheless, Secretary Park asked after gauging Han Seung-jae’s intention as he stared at the billboard. Since the exhibition was opening in a week, it might be possible to adjust the time.
As the car moved, the screen of the museum exhibition that had occupied the giant billboard changed.
“…”
No matter how long he waited, there was no answer. Naturally, Secretary Park looked forward. Sensing the strange atmosphere permeating the car, he kept his words to himself.
In truth, Han Seung-jae was a man very far removed from art. In particular, he didn’t know how to appreciate paintings; more accurately, he had no interest. His world consisted of money and people entangled in business relationships. Among them, the words he heard most often followed a certain pattern.
—Please help me.
—Please! Just trust me once.
—Director Han, please save me!
Looking down at the tablet PC, Han Seung-jae’s voice flowed out low.
“It’s different from what I’m used to hearing.”