Before Meical could retort, Min-jae grabbed his hand and spun him onto the wet grass. It was clumsy at first, two mismatched steps, a near-slip, Meical's firm grip yanking him steady.
But then Min-jae tugged again, and soon they were moving together in uneven circles, the storm becoming their music.
From the tall windows of the manor, the maids who had been clearing the dining hall stopped in their tracks. One by one, they edged closer to the glass, peering through the rain-speckled panes.
"Is that… the master?" one whispered, her voice full of disbelief.
"He's outside. Dancing?!" another confirmed, her hand pressed to the window as though to steady herself. "I've never seen him—"
"He's changed a lot since the madam came.?" the eldest maid said, her tone hushed but certain. "If it were Lady Seraphine, they would not be outside like this. The madam… he's different. A good kind of different."
"But they are both men.." a younger maid said, hesitance in her tone.
The older woman shook her head gently. "What does it matter? Look at them. Look at how happy they are. That is all that should matter."
Outside, Meical spun Min-jae once more, catching him before he slipped in the mud.
The governor's coat was plastered to him, his normally composed hair dripping, his expression undone in a way none of his staff had ever witnessed. His eyes softened, and for the first time in years, he let himself laugh. Low, genuine and unrestrained.
"This is just ridiculous.." he said, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed the word.
"Admit it.." Min-jae challenged, breathless, rain running down his cheeks like silver threads. "You're enjoying yourself."
Meical held his gaze for a long moment, his breath warm even in the chill of the storm. His voice, when it came, was quiet but unwavering.
"More than I should."
For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to just the two of them, the patter of the rain on their skin, the distant rumble of thunder, and the weight of their gazes locked together.
Neither moved, neither spoke. Something unspoken trembled between them, something fragile yet undeniable.
It lingered… until the awareness of it grew too sharp. Min-jae's grin faltered, his breath catching in his throat. Meical shifted slightly, his jaw tightening as though he too had realized how dangerously close they stood.
And just like that, the air between them turned thick with awkwardness.
A shiver ran through Min-jae then, breaking the spell. His soaked shirt clung miserably to his body, his teeth chattering as the cool night air sank in through the wet fabric.
Meical swore under his breath, stepping closer and curling a steadying arm around him. His voice was low, edged with both frustration and something softer he could not name.
"Kaizer.." he murmured, "why are you this reckless… and how do you always manage to pull me into your games?"
Min-jae sniffled but still managed a crooked smile, even as he leaned into Meical's warmth. "Because you let me."
Meical glanced down at him, rain dripping from his lashes, and for the briefest moment his chest tightened at the sight. He shook his head quickly, as if to scatter the thought, and guided Min-jae back toward the manor.
By the time they stumbled back into the manor, dripping and breathless, the sound of hurried footsteps filled the hall. A cluster of maids appeared, wide-eyed at the sight of their master and the young lord soaked to the bone.
"Merciful heavens!" gasped an older maid, her silver-streaked hair pulled into a tidy bun. She pressed a hand to her chest, scandal and worry etched into her face. "Master, why would you be so reckless as to play in the rain?"
Meical straightened, though water still dripped steadily from his coat onto the marble floor. "Forgive me, Narelle.." he said, his voice low, almost contrite. "It was my negligence. I shouldn't have allowed it."
"Negligence indeed!" Narelle clicked her tongue, though she was already reaching for a towel from a younger maid and draping it firmly across Min-jae's shoulders. "Two grown men, running about like mischievous boys, do you have any idea how quickly a fever can take hold in this season?"
The younger maid fidgeted. "Mistress Narelle, shall I—"
"Go to the kitchens.." Narelle cut in briskly. "Tell Greya to prepare hot honey and lemon tea at once. Quickly now, before they catch their death."
The girl bobbed a curtsey and ran off, her skirts flaring behind her.
Narelle turned back, eyes narrowing in a mixture of sternness and concern. "Would you prefer to wait here for the tea, Master, or would the both of you rather take a hot bath first and have it sent up?"
Min-jae sniffled under the towel, hair plastered to his face. His lips twitched, as though he wanted to defend himself, but another shiver betrayed him.
Meical's grip on him firmed as he inclined his head again toward Narelle. "We'll bathe first. Thank you, Narelle. And… forgive me for worrying you."
The older maid paused at the rare sincerity in his tone. Her lined face softened just slightly. "Hmph. Just don't make a habit of it, Master. Some of us have hearts too old for such fright."
Meical's mouth curved faintly. "Understood."
As she bustled away, calling further instructions down the hall, Min-jae peeked up at him through wet lashes, a sly grin tugging at his lips.
"You're very obedient when she scolds you."
Meical shot him a look, one brow arched. "…And you're very insufferable when you're shivering."
Yet he adjusted the towel more snugly around Min-jae's shoulders, his hand steady at his back as he steered him toward the staircase.
As Meical guided Min-jae up the stairs, the sound of dripping water fading into the upper halls, the maids left behind exchanged glances.
The younger one returned from the kitchens, slightly breathless. "Madam Greya's already preparing the tea. Mistress Narelle, should I have towels warmed as well?"
"Yes.." Narelle said briskly, wringing her hands as she watched the governor disappear from view. "And extra blankets. Gods preserve us, two men playing in the rain like lads, he'll be coughing by morning."