On the surface, it sounded like a good offer, but his expression didn’t reflect that. That was also why I couldn’t bring myself to say, If you like him, just promote him again. Instead of giving a clear answer, I subtly shifted the topic.

“Speaking of which... I’d like to ask you for a favor.”

“A favor?”

The moment I said the word “favor,” Kwon Yido narrowed his eyes. Then, as if something had occurred to him, his neat eyebrows lifted slightly.

“If it’s about removing the bodyguard...”

“No, it’s not that.”

I hadn’t meant to cut him off, but thankfully, he didn’t seem offended. Only I, who had blurted it out so suddenly, closed my mouth in mild surprise. This is getting dangerous. I shouldn’t get too comfortable around him... But once you make space for someone, it’s hard not to stretch your legs out.

“I was wondering if I could use the library.”

“...The library?”

“Yes. I’ve finished all the books in my room, so I don’t have anything left to read.”

As always, once Kwon Yido left for work, Lee Taeseong would inevitably show up. He’d follow me like a shadow and accompany me to the greenhouse with that perpetually uncomfortable look on his face. If that was going to happen anyway, it might be better to bring two books instead.

“The library...”

I thought he’d agree right away, but Kwon Yido didn’t answer immediately and hesitated. He looked at me, then turned his head as if lost in thought. After a short click of his tongue, he finally spoke with a neutral expression.

“Sure, feel free. You can use the one on the first floor.”

The first floor? The one I saw was on the second floor.

“The shelves are tall, so don’t try to take anything from the upper levels yourself. Ask a staff member. The ladder’s dangerous.”

“...Thank you.”

It was strange. There was no way this house only had one library, but he specifically mentioned the first floor. He said, “Use the first-floor library,” but it felt more like, “Don’t use anything else.”

That puzzlement lasted only a moment before Kwon Yido opened his mouth again.

“The one you saw before is where I work.”

“Ah.”

No wonder the desk showed signs of use. It must have doubled as a study and an office. In that case, his insistence on the first-floor library made sense.

Still... why did it feel so strange?

“Shall we get up?”

He finished eating and stood up first. The neatly arranged utensils seemed to reflect his personality. Just as I was about to follow him out of the dining room, he suddenly turned on his heel and looked at me.

“Jung Sejin.”

Sometimes, a faint sense of déjà vu strikes. For example, moments like this—looking up at him from close range.

“Just to be clear, don’t go into the second-floor library.”

“...Pardon?”

It felt like he’d hit the nail right on the head. I hadn’t expected Kwon Yido to come right out and say what had been bothering me. He spoke in a serious tone, without so much as blinking.

“There are dangerous items in there for you.”

The moment he said “dangerous items,” something sprang to mind. And then, what had been lingering in the back of my mind spilled from Kwon Yido’s lips.

“Like a gun, for example.”

A chill ran down my spine. An unexplainable dread slithered up [N O V E L I G H T] along my back. The fear crept in slowly but sank deep into my chest like a blunt pain.

It was an indescribably eerie feeling. All he’d done was speak a few words, yet the image of the gun appeared vividly in my mind—the black, sharp grip, and the trigger locked into place.

'The gun is real.'

'I threw out all the bullets, though.'

It was as if I could hear Kwon Yido’s voice right in my ear. The sequence of locking the gun in the drawer flashed through my head like a reel of film.

“...I wasn’t planning to go in anyway.”

At my slow reply, Kwon Yido’s expression softened. With a faint look of relief, the corners of his mouth lifted gently. His face looked calm and serene, but behind it, a flicker of unease remained.

“That’s good to hear.”

And with that, he left the kitchen without looking back. The heaviness left behind in my chest seemed to imprint his retreating figure firmly in my mind.

***

The first-floor library was much larger than the one upstairs. Every wall was lined with books, and a ladder was in place to help reach the higher shelves. The staff member who escorted me there emphasized I shouldn’t use the ladder, then politely exited the room.

I picked out two books with titles that appealed to me and headed to the greenhouse. As expected, Lee Taeseong followed. Unlike yesterday, he sat across from me without protest. Though when I offered him the book, he did scrunch up his face like he’d bitten a bug.

“...What is this?”

“A book.”

That probably wasn’t what he meant, but I answered like that anyway. As expected, a trace of irritation flashed in his eyes. I felt a little bad for thinking it, but that look of his reminded me of Minjae in a way—how his thoughts were always written on his face.

“I figured you might be bored. You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to.”

I handed him a Korean book and opened the other one in front of me. Lee Taeseong glanced at me, blinking vacantly. I had a good guess as to what that look meant, so I spoke without taking my eyes off the page.

“It’s in French.”

“...Ah.”

Back in college, I’d taken a French class as an elective. It had only covered basic conversation, but I’d found it interesting and studied more on my own. When I saw a book in a familiar language in Kwon Yido’s library, I’d picked it up with genuine fondness.

The one thing I’d forgotten was that unused languages fade.

What I could once read with ease now took time to process. I had to reread confusing sentence structures, pause at unfamiliar vocabulary, and take my time. Fortunately, the book wasn’t too difficult, so I turned the pages slowly.

“You speak French?”

He must’ve been that curious—his eyes lit up as he asked. Even with all his discomfort, he couldn’t hide his curiosity. Maybe he had a secret admiration for people who knew foreign languages.

“No, I’m just flipping through it like a picture book.”

A new topic had presented itself, but I shrugged like I didn’t know any better. I wasn’t fluent anymore, so there was no reason to brag.

“What do you mean... Then just read this one instead.”

He pointed to the Korean book he hadn’t even opened. I thought he’d at least pretend to read it, but he hadn’t even flipped the cover. That struck me as funny, and a soft laugh escaped me.

“Sorry, but I’ve already read that one.”

“Then why’d you bring it?”

“Didn’t I tell you? I brought it so you wouldn’t be bored.”

“...I’m not bored.”

“I know.”

“Then why...”

Reading a foreign-language book while holding a conversation was proving to be too much. Skimming the sentence I’d just read, I began flatly,

“That book’s actually pretty entertaining.”

“...”

“You should at least try the first page.”

This time, Lee Taeseong clamped his mouth shut and took the book. The way he flipped to the first page was stiff and awkward. At last, the environment for real reading had been established.

The scent of canola flowers lingered at the tip of my nose, and the sunlight was warm and gentle. Though I stumbled at first, the French began to feel more familiar as I went on. My pace remained slow, but the content was interesting enough to make up for it.

An hour passed reading the first chapter. Two more reviewing what I’d already read. By the time I looked up again, it was lunchtime—and there was Lee Taeseong, eyes glued to the book like his life depended on it.

You know that feeling when someone else likes something you love? That quiet sense of pride.

“It’s good, right?”

When I asked casually, Lee Taeseong flinched. He set the half-read book down and smacked his lips, looking reluctant. His answer came with a flush of embarrassment.

“...Yeah. A lot.”

***

I wanted to lend him the book, but it wasn’t mine, so I couldn’t. When I told him he could finish it tomorrow, he nodded with a hidden look of disappointment. He looked like a puppy after a walk, and I had to stifle the laughter that threatened to burst out.

Lunch was similar to breakfast—a simple Korean-style meal. Smooth black sesame porridge to whet the appetite, then seasoned pollack, mung bean jelly salad, and perfectly grilled sirloin. Dessert was sujeonggwa, sweet enough to be the perfect finish.

Lee Taeseong had lunch with the staff, then followed me around as I took a leisurely walk, keeping a good distance. The official reason was security, of course, but it was hard not to feel like I was being watched. The only saving grace was that he followed silently, almost like a ghost.

Kwon Yido came home slightly later than usual. Just in time for dinner, he apologized for keeping me waiting, then showered and joined me at the table. I’d told him not to overdo it, but it felt like he’d forced himself to come home early anyway.

“What did you do today?”

After dinner, we headed to his room as usual. The air was thick with pheromones, but thankfully, it didn’t overwhelm me like it had the night before. On the contrary, it felt oddly calming, like I could finally breathe again.

“More or less the same. I read in the greenhouse in the morning, then walked around the garden in the afternoon...”

“And the library?”

“Yes. The staff emphasized I shouldn’t use the ladder, so I picked something I could reach.”

We spoke in the morning too, but somehow our evening conversations always felt different. Maybe it was because he wasn’t in a suit—everything about him felt a little less distant. He listened with a relaxed expression, which helped narrow the space between us.

“Still not used to the bodyguard?”

“Well, today wasn’t too bad...”

If anything, it was probably Lee Taeseong who felt more uncomfortable than I did.

I didn’t bother mentioning that we sat and read together. Kwon Yido might not approve of a bodyguard relaxing with the person he was assigned to protect. I’d pushed a little for my own comfort today—I didn’t want that decision to come back and bite me.

“What book did you read today?”

Kwon Yido had turned slightly toward me, his eyes warm with interest. Usually his brows were tense in the corners, but in the evenings, his whole expression softened. And still, his looks were flawless.

“It’s called The Origins of Perfume... it’s in French. Do you know it?”

It was a casual question. The library was huge—there was no way he’d read every book in it. I would’ve been surprised if he even recognized the title.

But Kwon Yido replied without missing a beat, his voice soft.

“?”

“...”

Elegant French floated to my ears like silk. Just a few words, but the pronunciation and accent were flawless. I widened my eyes in shock, and he responded with a gentle, crinkling smile.

“I know it. It’s written by Charles.”

“...You speak French?”

“Roughly?”

He replied lightly, lowering his gaze. His lashes cast long shadows over his cheeks.

“I had the chance to learn for a while.”

He’d only dropped his gaze, but a pang of loneliness pierced me. His face looked so sorrowful when he said it that I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

“Your pronunciation is perfect... Must’ve had a great teacher.”

“I learned from someone very smart.”

He shrugged, smiling faintly again. The earlier shadow had vanished entirely. See? He smiles more than Mr. Kim ever does.

“Do you like perfume?”

When Kwon Yido smiled, it was like flowers blooming in spring. That cold face softened completely, and the whole room shifted with it. Just looking at him, it was easy to lose track of time.

“Not so much perfume itself, but I’ve always been interested in scents. When I was younger, I wanted to be a perfumer...”

I said it without thinking, then clammed up. That wasn’t the kind of dream you just told people. It had slipped out too easily. A perfumer? I’d only get laughed at for that.

“It suits you.”

“...What?”

For a second, I thought I’d misheard. Suits me? That job?

“It’s a good fit for you. Much more than being a financial group executive.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant. Was he saying I wasn’t suited to be a director? Or that a perfumer really did suit me better?

“Come to think of it, G Company releases a new perfume every year. If you’re interested, let me know. I found it a bit too floral for me, but I think it’d suit you.”

But no matter how I listened, there was no trace of sarcasm in his voice. He wasn’t mocking me, telling me to sniff my own pheromones first, or brushing me off like I was being unrealistic. He wasn’t trying to bring me back to reality.

“Isn’t it strange, though? For someone without a pheromone scent to be interested in creating scents...”

“Pheromone scent?”

Kwon Yido frowned as if the term confused him. He leaned back, resting his arm casually on the sofa’s armrest.

“Didn’t I mention before? Your pheromone smells like flowers.”

He’d said it at the engagement dinner, to his sister. A line spoken with a dreamy, sweet voice:

‘Jung Sejin’s pheromones smell like flowers.’

“Pheromones aren’t really something you classify as a scent... but unless you’ve lost your sense of smell, I don’t see what perfume has to do with it.”

“...”

I almost answered before I could stop myself. ‘Exactly. What does that have to do with anything?’

‘Someone with no pheromone scent shouldn’t—’

If someone told you not to eat an apple because it was red, at first you’d ask why that mattered. But after hearing it three times, you’d start to wonder if it was true. And if you weren’t even allowed to ask why...

‘Stop with the nonsense and just study.’

“Perfumers don’t only make perfume. Some work with food additives, too.”

I clenched and unclenched my hand on my thigh. The ring on my fourth finger left a faint mark on my skin. Kwon Yido, unaware, asked lightly,

“Which type were you interested in?”

“I...”

God, why was my throat closing up?

“I don’t know. I just... wanted to create scents.”

The pheromones filling the room brushed against me with every breath. I could feel Kwon Yido through the air, on my skin—it was so vivid it nearly overwhelmed me.

I think the child I used to be wanted to turn those things into scent. I didn’t want to lose those fleeting sensations. I wanted to preserve them for as long as I could.

“Things like grass or flowers... they smell nice, right? It’s fascinating how something invisible can leave a trace.”

Slowly, I spoke the thoughts I always had. How the air smelled different when it rained. How seasons changed the scent of the breeze. How I liked flowers, and how the floral tea the staff made always left me feeling good.

Kwon Yido didn’t interrupt. He listened to everything, then said,

“You don’t have to be a perfumer. Just trying it out in your own time might be fun.”

His voice was the gentlest I’d ever heard. He spoke in his usual tone, but the way I received it was different from usual. The feeling that welled up inside was something I couldn’t even begin to name—it felt like comfort.

So I never asked what I’d meant to. That day at the engagement dinner, when we hadn’t even entered a heat cycle.

'How did you know what my pheromones smelled like?'