He had chosen his moment carefully. No attendants, no watching eyes — just the whisper of crickets and the hush of silk over wood. It wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this. But it was the first time he felt uncertain.

When the figure arrived, veiled in moonlight and the soft folds of courtly robes, he allowed himself a small smile.

“I was beginning to think you’d let the petals fall before answering the bee,” Lahan said smoothly, setting his cup aside.

The person bowed, graceful and reserved — exactly as he remembered. The younger sibling of Lady Gyokuyō: quiet, unassuming, too easily overlooked. That had caught his attention more than any rouge or ornament could. The restraint. The silence. The way those eyes watched everything and gave away nothing.

Lahan stepped closer. The lantern flickered, and so did something in his chest.

“You wear no fragrance tonight,” he murmured, almost teasing. “Are you shy, or simply confident I’d come close anyway?”

Still no reply. Just a quiet, composed presence. One hand moved to remove the veil. Lahan’s heart stirred — anticipation, curiosity, the pleasure of unveiling a mystery.

And then—

The veil slipped away. The face beneath was not a woman’s. No painted lips, no powdered cheeks. Just sharp cheekbones, a strong jawline. A boy — no, a young man. One who stood without flinching.

The world held its breath. For a moment, so did he.

Lahan blinked once. His smile faltered, not entirely gone. A beat passed. Two.

Then he laughed — not cruelly, not mockingly. Just low and almost surprised.

“So,” he said slowly, “I’ve made a fool of myself.”

He tilted his head, studying the boy’s face now with the eyes of a strategist, not a suitor. But something softer remained, lingering behind his usual calculation.

“Did you enjoy watching me fall for a phantom?” he asked, voice quiet but steady. “Or were you just curious how far I’d go before I noticed?”

No answer. The boy didn’t move.

Lahan exhaled, looking away for the first time that evening. “You know, I’ve always believed I could read people. Cut through the act. But you… you didn’t wear a mask at all, did you?”

He turned back, and his gaze was no longer guarded.

“I saw what I wanted to see. That makes it my error.”

Another pause.

“You’re not what I expected.” He took a step forward. “But I don’t think you ever tried to be.”

The boy lowered his eyes, perhaps out of modesty, perhaps not.

Lahan’s voice was quieter now, rougher around the edges. “So what am I supposed to do with this? With… whatever this is that I feel?”