Seraphine didn't answer. She rose stiffly from her seat, her chair scraping loudly against the polished marble floor.
"I'll have my things packed.." she said tightly, voice strained to the point of cracking.
"They already are.." Min-jae replied smoothly without missing a beat, delicately dabbing his lips with a napkin. "The carriage is waiting outside."
Her eyes snapped to him, full of loathing and disbelief, but he didn't so much as glance her way.
He simply reached for another pastry, inspecting it like it was more interesting than her existence.
The silence that followed was deafening.
With one last glance at Meical, pleading, angry, desperate all at once. Seraphine turned and swept from the hall, her skirts billowing behind her like a storm cloud.
The doors slammed shut.
Min-jae waited three heartbeats, then let out a soft, almost giddy laugh. "Ahh… finally. I thought she'd never leave."
He turned his head toward Meical, who was still watching the door, his expression cool but unreadable.
"I won't stop you if you want to see her one last time.." Min-jae said, voice light, teasing, but with something sharper buried underneath. "Go ahead. Get it off your chest. So you can fall in love with me properly."
Meical's gaze shifted to him slowly. His face gave nothing away, but there was an intensity in his eyes that hadn't been there before.
"You're awfully confident.." he murmured.
Min-jae leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other with a rustle of silk. "Confidence?" He tilted his head, smiling faintly. "No. Just certainty. Women like her… they're easy to get rid of. Men like you…" His eyes flicked up to meet Meical's, bold and unflinching. "…you're harder to win. But not impossible."
For the first time, Meical's lips curved not into a smile, but into something close, a fleeting ghost of amusement that was gone as quickly as it came.
Meical found Seraphine in the courtyard, standing beside her carriage.
The morning sun painted her golden hair in warm light, but her face was tight with frustration, her hands clenched into fists over her gown.
She heard his footsteps and turned, hope sparking in her eyes for just a moment.
"You came.." she breathed, as though she had been certain he would.
Meical stopped a few paces away, his shadow long across the cobblestone. "To see you off.." he said evenly.
Her lips trembled. "Meical, you can't let this happen. That man—he's nothing, a nobody! I'm your wife—"
"Almost.." Meical cut in, his tone calm but sharp enough to silence her. "This arrangement served its purpose. It no longer does."
She stared at him as if he'd struck her. "You're… dismissing me? For him?"
Meical's jaw tightened. "I'm dismissing you because you betrayed everything we built. What happened between us ended long before he arrived. But I still tried my best to love you.."
Seraphine's eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she forced a bitter laugh. "You think he cares for you? He's using you. I can see it in his eyes—he's dangerous."
For a moment, Meical's gaze flickered not doubt, but with thoughtfulness, as though weighing her words. Then he shook his head.
"Perhaps," he admitted quietly. "But unlike you, he doesn't hide what he is. That, at least, I can respect."
Seraphine's composure shattered. Her tears fell freely now as she reached for him, desperate. "Meical, please—don't do this. Don't throw me away like I'm nothing to you."
He caught her wrist gently, stopping her touch before it reached him.
"You made yourself nothing to me," he said simply.
Her breath hitched. He released her hand, stepped back, and turned away without another glance.
The carriage door closed with a hollow thud. Hooves clattered against stone as it pulled away, taking Seraphine and the remnants of what they'd been out of sight.
Meical stood there for a long moment, silent, until the courtyard was empty once more.
Then he exhaled, slow and controlled, and walked back inside.
Meical entered the hall, his expression unreadable as always, but Min-jae caught the faint trace of something different,finality, perhaps, or relief buried deep beneath that stoic mask.
Min-jae didn't mention Seraphine.
Instead, he stepped up to him, heels clicking softly on the polished floor, and patted Meical's chest twice as though sealing some unspoken deal.
"Well," Min-jae said with a sly little smile, "now that you're done with your sentimental goodbyes…" His eyes glittered. "You wanted information on the king, didn't you?"
Meical's gaze sharpened instantly. "You have it?"
"Of course I do." Min-jae tilted his head, voice dropping into a conspiratorial purr. "And I'm supposed to see him today. But—" He gestured down at himself, at the gown still clinging to his frame. "If you want me to walk into court looking like this, you're out of your mind."
Meical's brow furrowed slightly. "What do you want?"
"Proper clothes.." Min-jae replied, grinning now. "Not this frilly death trap you stuck me in. Something fit for someone who belongs in those gilded halls. Regal. Refined. The kind of outfit that says I could own you all if I wanted to—without ever lifting a finger."
For a moment, Meical just stared at him, silent. Then, with a small exhale, he turned to a nearby maid. "Bring the finest pieces from the estate wardrobes. Silks, embroidery, jewelry.."
The maids scurried away.
Min-jae watched them go, then leaned in closer to Meical, his breath ghosting against his ear. "Good boy." he whispered teasingly, before stepping back with a smirk.
Meical's jaw flexed, but he didn't rise to the bait.
The maids scurried about, bringing in boxes of fine garments until Min-jae finally spotted the one that caught his eye,a masterpiece of white satin, with high-waisted trousers and a shirt whose sleeves billowed like clouds, ruffles cascading down to his wrists.
A crimson sash, trimmed with fur, completed the ensemble.
"Oh, this.." Min-jae breathed, fingertips grazing the silk. "Yes. This will do nicely."
Meical lingered in the corner, arms crossed as Min-jae began to change behind a folding screen.
He could hear every rustle of fabric, every soft mutter as Min-jae cursed at a stubborn button.
"Do you intend to fight a war in those clothes?" Meical asked dryly.
Min-jae peeked around the screen, eyes sparkling. "Darling, I am the war."
When he finally emerged, the room seemed to still. The white satin hugged his frame perfectly, the ruffles at his chest drawing attention to the sharp lines of his collarbones, the high waist of the trousers elongating his already lithe figure.
The crimson sash draped over one shoulder added a touch of aristocratic drama.
He twirled once in front of the mirror, watching the fabric catch the light, and smirked at his reflection. "Elegant, commanding, and just enough to make the king wonder what I'm hiding under all these layers."