There wasn’t anything I could say. Opening my mouth carelessly felt like it would only make Kwon Yido feel worse. He set the teacup down on the table with a dull clink, watching the tea spread across the surface.

“I’m not saying this because I want you to apologize.”

He didn’t look like it, but he was clearly in a bad mood.

"..."

...I didn’t spend much time with ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) Lee Taeseong compared to Kwon Yido. At most, just a few hours in the morning—and even then, we barely spoke, each of us absorbed in our own reading. In contrast, Kwon Yido spent a couple of hours talking with me every single night.

So then, why was he upset?

Instead of asking, I pressed my palm hard against the underside of the table. If I didn’t do something like this, I couldn’t stand the itchy, crawling feeling inside. Rather than question his displeasure, I found myself understanding it—and before I realized it, my lips moved on their own.

“...Should we install lights in the greenhouse?”

He blinked slowly, as if to ask what I meant. Embarrassed by my own words, I gave a sheepish squint of my eyes.

“That way... we could spend time there together even after you get home from work.”

Honestly, I thought it was nonsense. I was worried it wouldn’t land right. But it was the only answer I could give him.

“It’s not exactly a replacement, but... I haven’t shared that time of day with anyone else yet.”

“...”

If we installed lights, we could talk there even after sunset. The walk to the greenhouse might be dark, but if we went together, it wouldn’t be scary. Of course, all of this assumed he’d be willing to go along with it.

“If you don’t want to, though—”

“No.”

The answer came sharp and fast. He awkwardly cleared his throat, covering his mouth with one hand. Then, in a voice soft enough to make my ears tickle, he said: 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

“Let’s do that.”

A faint smile tugged at his eyes. It was the same gentle expression he always wore, as if he’d never been upset at all. He looked a little embarrassed, too, which made me feel quietly relieved.

“Jung Sejin, you really...”

“Kind, right?”

I said it teasingly, and Kwon Yido let out a soft laugh. His alpha pheromones, always subtle, curled gently around the softened mood. I’ve said it before, but really—he’s the kind one.

“More importantly... did you already get off work?”

This morning, he’d left the house after breakfast, as usual. He hadn’t said anything about coming home early, let alone showing up in the greenhouse. He was still wearing his suit—what kind of job let you clock out at this hour?

“I still have to head back. I just stopped by for a bit. I had something to tell you, and thought I’d do it while I was here.”

“Something to tell me?”

“Your attending physician is coming by this afternoon.”

The moment he said "attending physician," a memory resurfaced. The pheromone test he’d suggested the day after my heat cycle—in the underground garage.

“She said she’ll be here around one, so you can get it done right after lunch. You don’t have anything scheduled this afternoon, right?”

“No, nothing.”

I was just going to stroll through the garden. It’s not like I had actual plans.

“They’ll probably draw some blood, but I’ll stay with you, so don’t worry.”

“...”

The way he said it, I felt like a child scared of needles. But if it was just a blood draw, like he said, then there was nothing to fuss over.

“Sounds like you’re the one who’s worried.”

“I am. I came because I’m worried.”

His tone was so casual I didn’t even get the chance to argue. As he flipped open the poetry book I’d been reading, he said:

“So... have you decided what you want?”

“Oh, that...”

It had been a week since he’d asked me to choose something I wanted, in exchange for giving back the car keys. I hadn’t brought it up again, but I’d been thinking about what item would be appropriate.

“I’d like the perfume you mentioned before.”

“The one from G Company... that one?”

“Yes, that one.”

It had to be something he’d be satisfied giving, but not so troublesome to deal with afterward. The library was too vast to ask for a book, so the perfume he’d mentioned seemed like the perfect fit. I didn’t know exactly which one, but if he was the one who suggested it, it had to be something he approved of.

“You’re clever.”

He made an unreadable comment and smiled softly, still looking down at the poetry book.

“You don’t even know what kind of perfume it is, but since I mentioned it first, you figured I wouldn’t turn you down.”

“...”

My shoulder twitched involuntarily. Luckily, he was too absorbed in the book to notice. I quickly adjusted my posture, but he turned to me with a curious look.

“You’re not going to deny it?”

“...I try not to lie when I know I’ll get caught.”

There’s no point pretending. All he had to do was ask me what kind of scent it was, and I’d be caught in an instant.

“I didn’t exactly want it, but I was curious. You said it would suit me, so... I got interested. Is that not good enough?”

“No, of course it is.”

He closed the book and smiled with satisfaction, like he’d just heard something amusing.

“If you’re curious, then you should have it.”

Only someone like Kwon Yido could say that. He had the means and the power to give anything he was curious about. Of course he could just hand it over.

“The one I mentioned is inspired by lily of the valley.”

His elegant voice gently explained the perfume. The design changed every year, and only about a hundred were imported into the country. There were only 4,500 worldwide. Hearing that, even I couldn’t hide my awkward surprise.

“...It’s a limited edition.”

“Not impossible to get, though.”

He raised his left wrist and checked his watch. Silver and gold intertwined on the metal band—it matched his engagement ring perfectly. Maybe it had a calendar function, because he narrowed one eye slightly, as if calculating dates.

“There’s a reservation window coming up soon, so...”

He trailed off and closed his mouth tightly. His lips remained pressed into a thin line for quite a while. I was about to ask what was wrong when he suddenly spoke.

“There’s something I want to ask.”

“Yes?”

“Let’s say... you have someone you love.”

“...?”

The question came out of nowhere, completely unrelated to what we’d been discussing. I stared at him, confused, and he added quickly that it was just a hypothetical.

“Let’s say that person is going to steal something from you. And if you lose it, it’ll cause you serious harm.”

Someone I love... stealing something from me? I wondered if he was talking about books, but he didn’t give me time to ask. He casually wrapped his right hand over his watch and continued, voice flat.

“In that situation, you have two options. Willingly hand it over... or hide it so they can’t take it.”

“...”

“What would you do?”

Our eyes met. For something supposedly hypothetical, his expression was unusually serious. His subdued gaze even seemed... mournful.

“...I think I’d ask them first.”

Ask what? His eyes said. He stared at me, expression unreadable, gaze fixed on my face like I was pinned in place. I dropped my eyes and answered slowly.

“I’d want to know why they needed it. I’d ask them.”

If they needed it badly enough to steal it, then I’d probably give it willingly. Depending on how much damage it caused me, of course—but if I loved the person, I’d want to do anything I could. I didn’t even have anything precious enough that I couldn’t afford to lose.

“I don’t think someone I love would just steal something from me for no reason.”

Not that I’d ever been in love, or even had a real relationship. But still... I couldn’t imagine someone like that needing to steal. What could they possibly be lacking?

“I’d ask, and if it really mattered... I’d just give it to them.”

“...”

“They must have their reasons, if it came to stealing.”

And just like that, the mood suddenly felt awkward. The greenhouse was so warm—how could a conversation feel so cold? It wasn’t even serious; it was just a hypothetical scenario.

“I mean, it’d suck to take a loss, sure... but if I got some points for it, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.”

The last line was almost a joke. I wasn’t expecting him to laugh, but I did hope it would lighten the atmosphere. But instead, Kwon Yido murmured softly:

“...I see.”

It felt awkward. He was taking my silly answer way too seriously. I asked if that helped at all, and he nodded without hesitation.

“Of course it does. A lot.”

“...”

Whatever it was, it must’ve helped him a lot. That’s the only explanation for why he could smile so cleanly, so easily now.

“That makes sense. And now I know you’re the type to give everything when you love someone.”

“Well, I guess...”

“But I can’t do that. Give everything.”

He let out a small laugh and stood up slowly. His pristine shoes crushed a petal on the floor underfoot. It was impossible not to see it as intentional.

“I don’t let anyone take anything from me.”

“...”

Who would even dare to steal from Kwon Yido? If they took the wrong thing, he might make them pay back twice as much.

“Well... I suppose it’d be different if I gave it willingly.”

He said that with a soft smile, holding out his hand. Palm up, empty. I didn’t get what he meant at first—but then he gave a small flick of his fingers.

“Let’s go back inside.”

Without thinking, I placed my hand in his. Just like he had at the engagement ceremony, he gently closed his fingers around mine. His hand was slightly cool, but somehow that made it feel even warmer.

***

Just as Kwon Yido said, the attending physician arrived in the afternoon. She introduced herself as Professor Shim, a specialist from Seonho Hospital who handled cases involving rare traits. She drew some blood, ran a few tests, and asked detailed questions about any discomfort or symptoms I might’ve had.

The results were normal. Apart from what had always been unusual about me, nothing abnormal was found. My pheromone levels, overall health—everything was above the standard.

It made sense. I’d been eating well, sleeping well. It would’ve been strange if something had come up. The only issue was the irregularity of my cycle, which Professor Shim brushed off casually.

“Usually this only happens with bonded pairs, but occasionally, if pheromones are especially compatible, the omega’s cycle can be pulled forward to match the alpha’s.”

As she said that, she looked directly at Kwon Yido. So basically, my cycle had shifted in response to his pheromones. She added that he was a dominant alpha and I had no natural resistance to alpha pheromones, which contributed to it.

“It’ll probably stabilize over the next six months. Once your cycles fully align, you’ll enter a regulation phase.”

It wasn’t exactly good news. We weren’t married—what was I supposed to do if our cycles synced? If Kwon Yido wanted children, that’d be one thing, but he’d already made it clear he had no such intention.

“There’s no health issue, so...”

When Professor Shim said that, I instinctively looked away from Kwon Yido. I couldn’t forget how my father reacted the last time someone said something similar. Back then, it had made everything feel even more useless—like even calculating my cycle didn’t matter anymore. What would Kwon Yido think now? That I was useless, too?

“Good. That’s a relief.”

But then—just as that thought crossed my mind—one sentence pierced through the fog.

His voice was quiet, nothing like my father’s.

“Then that’s enough.”

He sounded... relieved. Even though nothing had really been solved. Even though we’d just heard that the only thing managing my heat cycle wasn’t medication, but his pheromones.

Still, the results were clear, and with that, Kwon Yido received a call from his secretary and headed back to the office. He looked over his shoulder at me on the way out, like he was reluctant to leave. Once again—I keep saying this—but really, it’s okay to eat dinner alone.

“...But the fact that I miss him is the problem.”

With a sigh, I sank deep into the bathtub. Warm steam rose slowly from the water. It wasn’t the floral bath additive from last time—this one was something else, maybe salt. Thanks to Kwon Yido’s instructions before he left, the staff had prepared it right after dinner.

Don’t wait up for me. Just sleep.

Inside, I was an absolute mess. Thoughts rose and disappeared, went blank, then filled up with noise all over again. It was an endless cycle.

And all of it was because of Kwon Yido.

A month ago, I hadn’t even known his face. Now he was my fiancé. And the way he acted toward me—there was no denying what it all pointed to.

He seemed to like me. Maybe not love—but at least something close to affection. The way he worried, cared, protected me... it looked a lot like love.

To be honest, saying I hadn’t noticed would be a lie. I’d just refused to accept it. I’d suspected it from the beginning but kept denying it because the numbers didn’t add up.

The problem now was, I had a feeling I’d soon start to develop feelings I couldn’t handle in return.

They say when a person gains space in their life, the first thing they do is look for someone to fill it. At the end of loneliness is longing, and the more room you have, the more desperate you become to fill it. I hadn’t had a sliver of space in me before—but since entering this house, I’d become spacious enough to fit him inside.

When had it started?

When I realized the unpleasantness he showed me was actually jealousy?

When his gaze triggered something in me, and I ended up touching myself?

When we experienced my heat cycle together for the first time—not alone?

Or when he went out of his way to make time for me?

There were too many possibilities to know for sure. Or maybe this was one of those questions that never had a clear answer to begin with.

“...”

I tilted my head up and stared at the sky beyond the glass window. The sun was beginning to set, painting the horizon in mysterious shades of violet. It looked exactly like what I once half-joked I wanted—a bath with a view of the sky.

Sejin-ah.

Come to think of it, he called me Sejin. He kissed me like it was natural, but his touch when I cried was clumsy and unsure. And yet, the way he brushed my ear always felt so practiced.

“Sejin...”

Before my thoughts could run any deeper, I got out of the bath. I quickly towel-dried my hair, threw on a robe, and stepped out of the bathroom. Water dripped from my skin onto the floor, but I didn’t really care.

Just as I returned to the room, my phone buzzed. It was Mr. Kim. The moment I saw his name on the screen, an odd sense of tension washed over me. I steadied my breath and answered with forced calm.

“Yes, Mr. Kim.”

—Director. It’s me.

That title again. Director. I wasn’t that anymore. But before I could correct him, Mr. Kim’s voice came through, firm and to the point.

—You’ll need to visit the main house soon.