Taeyun did not get far before Minho intercepted him. the timing was too perfect to be coincidence. He was leaning against the corridor wall with his arms folded, as if he'd been waiting the entire time, and the look on his face said he had heard enough to be entertained for the rest of the week.
Taeyun slowed.
Minho's eyes slid over him. "So."
Taeyun didn't stop walking.
Minho moved—barely. Just enough to let Taeyun pass.
"You came here," Minho said, voice low with disbelief, "into this place… and the first thing you told her was that you didn't come for her."
Taeyun kept his gaze forward. "I was honest."
Minho scoffed. "You're insane."
Taeyun's jaw tightened. "You're loud."
Minho fell into step beside him anyway, like he couldn't help himself. "Tell me you didn't actually say you came for Nora."
Taeyun didn't answer.
Minho's face twisted like he'd bitten into something bitter. "Oh my God. You did."
Taeyun finally glanced at him, cold and warning. "Stop talking."
Minho burst into a laugh that he had to swallow quickly when a staff member passed at the far end of the corridor.
When the staff member disappeared, Minho leaned in again.
"This is worse than I thought," Minho whispered. "You know that, right?"
Taeyun's expression didn't change. "It's not worse. It's just inconvenient."
"Inconvenient?" Minho repeated. "You're developing feelings in the middle of a hostage situation."
Taeyun stopped walking.
Minho stopped too, blinking.
Taeyun's voice dropped, flat as stone. "Don't call her that."
Minho stared at him for a beat. Then, surprisingly, he nodded once.
"…Fine," Minho said quietly. "I won't."
They continued walking.
The mansion's corridors stretched like a polished maze, and the deeper they moved, the more Taeyun could feel the mansion's quiet watching. He had been here only minutes, and yet it already felt like he'd been recorded, categorized, filed.
Minho exhaled slowly. "You realize Madam Yeon will hear about this."
Taeyun's eyes stayed forward. "Let her."
Minho shot him a look. "Let her? That woman collects leverage like other people collect antiques."
Taeyun's face remained calm, but his voice sharpened. "Then she can collect this too."
Minho sighed, rubbing his forehead. "You're really doing this."
Taeyun didn't respond.
Because there was nothing left to explain.
He had crossed the line.
And the worst part was—he didn't regret it.
---
Back in the special wing, Nora stood stiffly in the middle of the hallway, cheeks still burning.
She looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor.
Bobae watched her with quiet amusement, arms folded, leaning against the window like someone who had briefly remembered what it felt like to breathe.
Nora's eyes flicked toward the corridor Taeyun had disappeared into. Then back to Bobae. Then back again.
"Unnie…" Nora whispered.
Bobae raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
Nora swallowed hard. "Why was he here?"
Bobae's lips twitched. "Apparently, because of you."
Nora froze so completely it was almost impressive.
"…Me?"
Bobae nodded slowly. "You."
Nora stared at her for a long moment, then blurted out, "No. That's impossible."
Bobae shrugged lightly. "That's what I said too."
Nora's hands flew to her face. "No no no no—he's… he's… he's too—"
"Handsome?" Bobae offered.
Nora dropped her hands, scandalized. "UNNIE!"
Bobae's smile widened just slightly. "You're blushing."
"I am not!" Nora insisted, then immediately blushed harder.
Bobae laughed again, softer this time. It wasn't the kind of laugh that erased her pain, but it cracked something in the armor she'd been forced to wear for too long.
Nora stared at her like she was seeing her for the first time.
"You laughed," Nora said quietly.
Bobae's smile faded just a little. Her fingers closed around the tracker in her pocket.
"I forgot what it sounded like," she admitted.
Nora's eyes softened. She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around Bobae's waist carefully, like she was afraid she might break her.
Bobae didn't move at first.
Then she slowly rested her hand on Nora's head.
"You did well," Bobae murmured.
Nora sniffed. "I tore my skirt."
Bobae blinked.
Nora looked up. "I tore it and I almost died from embarrassment and then he gave me his jacket and then he walked me and then he smiled and then his dimples—"
Bobae held up a hand. "Okay. Stop."
Nora paused.
Bobae's eyes narrowed. "So you're telling me… this man didn't just help you."
Nora blinked innocently.
Bobae stared.
Then she sighed and turned her head toward the window. "Oh my God."
Nora frowned. "What?"
Bobae muttered, "Nothing. Just… the universe is sick."
---
Later that evening, Bobae sat alone at the desk in her room.
The mansion was calm.
Too calm.
The wedding was in one week.
One week.
The words didn't feel real. They sat in her chest like something cold and heavy, refusing to melt.
She pulled the tracker from her pocket and turned it over in her palm.
Small. Simple. But it meant eyes were on her.
Not the mansion's eyes.
Her people's eyes.
Bobae stared at the door.
At any moment, someone could come in. Someone could smile and ask polite questions. Someone could remind her, gently, that she belonged to this house now.
Her fingers tightened around the tracker.
And for the first time, she didn't feel like she had to accept it.
She stood slowly and crossed to the mirror.
She looked at herself.
The girl in the reflection wasn't broken.
She was tired. She was bruised in places no one could see. But she was still there.
Bobae lifted her chin.
"One week," she whispered.
Her voice didn't shake.
She didn't know what would happen.
She didn't know if Junpyo would fight.
She didn't know how Kimho planned to pull her out.
But she knew one thing.
She would not disappear quietly.
---
Across the mansion, Vivian stood in her room with her phone in her hand.
She tapped her screen once, then sent a message.
Keep an eye on the special wing. No mistakes.
The reply came quickly.
Understood.
Vivian placed the phone down gently.
Then she walked to her closet and pulled out a dress bag.
Inside was her wedding dress.
She brushed her fingers over the fabric, smiling faintly.
"One week," she whispered.
Her eyes lifted toward the mirror.
"And then," she said softly, "we'll see who still thinks they have a choice."