Chapter Text
The sun shined brightly over Mayfair, golden light pouring down as though the heavens themselves had taken notice of the day. The sky was a brilliant stretch of blue, clouds scattered like lace, and the birds chirped with lively insistence from the hedges that framed the church gardens. It was, without question, a perfect morning.
Inside the church’s modest dressing room, however, things were far less serene.
Seulgi Harrington was pacing—back and forth, step after step—her polished boots whispering over the wooden floorboards. She stopped every few minutes to face the full-length mirror propped against the far wall, adjusting her cravat, re-tying, then stepping back to inspect the angle again.
“This thing is too tight,” she muttered, tugging at the collar. “And it keeps leaning to the left.”
From the corner, Ara watched her with growing amusement, arms crossed.
“Christ, Seulgi,” she finally said, pushing off the wall. “You must calm down. Even I wasn’t this bad.”
Seulgi turned toward her in exasperation. “You very well know you were.”
Ara’s lips twitched in sympathy. She walked over slowly, reached up, and stilled Seulgi’s fidgeting hands. “Here,” she murmured, adjusting the bowtie gently. “You are nervous. Trust me—I know.”
Seulgi let out a long sigh, her chest rising and falling beneath her finely cut coat. “Ara… what if she decides she doesn’t want me?” she said quietly. “What if she’s changed her mind? What if she’s realised she deserves better?”
Ara’s hands stilled, resting lightly on her sister’s shoulders. “That will not happen.”
“But—”
“Seulgi.”
Ara’s tone was gentle, but firm. “You are going to take a few deep breaths. Then we are going to walk out of this room, together, and head to the altar. And not long after, Jaeyi will walk in—and she will say her vows. To you. You will put a ring on her, become wives, and everything will go exactly as planned. In fact,” she added with a small smile, “even better.”
Seulgi gave a shaky grin. “You make it sound so simple.”
Ara’s brow arched. “It is,” she said plainly. “Love often is, when one stops questioning it.”
Seulgi nodded slowly, her throat tight with emotion, when the door creaked open behind them.
Jaena strode in, dressed in a lovely peach day gown trimmed in ivory lace, her hair pinned in elegant coils and a teasing glint in her eye.
Seulgi’s eyes widened immediately. “Oh no,” she breathed. “She’s changed her mind, hasn’t she? She’s decided she wants to leave. I—”
“Christ Lord Harrington,” Jaena interrupted, holding up both hands like she was trying to calm a wild horse. “I just came to hand you this.”
Seulgi blinked as Jaena stepped forward and handed her a folded note—sealed with no wax, just a gentle crease.
With fingers that trembled slightly, Seulgi opened it.
Two simple lines greeted her.
“Breathe, my love. I have been yours since the moment we met.”
Seulgi froze.
Her hands shook.
Her heart clenched so tightly she could hardly draw breath.
“H-how…” she whispered, voice barely audible. “How did she know I was panicking?”
Jaena smiled. “Well, I suppose… she just did.”
Seulgi stared at the words for another moment, her thumb brushing gently over the ink like it might smudge, then slowly folded the paper and held it close to her chest.
“I—” she cleared her throat, still not trusting her voice. “Could you pass on a message for me?”
Jaena only smiled, her head tilting with the faintest amusement. “Pass it yourself, my lord,” she said, turning to the door. “At the altar.”
The moment the door clicked shut behind her, Seulgi drew in a breath. Then another.
Ara stepped beside her, watching with a quiet, knowing gaze.
Seulgi looked down once more at the little note in her hand. The weight of it somehow steadied her. She nodded once.
“Alright,” she said softly. “Let us go.”
Ara smiled faintly.
Together, they turned and made their way out the dressing room, boots tapping against the stone corridor, the soft echoes of the chapel music just beginning to drift through the walls.
-----
Jaeyi stood very still.
Too still.
Her hand gripped the bouquet of white roses and lilacs a touch too tightly, her knuckles just beginning to pale. Her breath was shallow, her heart quickened. She looked down at her gown, her free hand brushing the skirts gently. Madame Delacroix had done a marvellous job with so little time.
Jaena stood beside her, cheeks flushed with excitement, cradling a smaller bouquet.
“I will go first,” she whispered, squeezing Jaeyi’s arm with fondness. “Wait for the cue.”
Jaeyi nodded mutely. Jaena turned, straightened her back, and walked gracefully into the chapel as the soft swell of strings began to play from within.
A minute passed.
Then another.
Ming Young turned toward her eldest daughter, her eyes watery.
“Are you ready?” she asked softly.
Jaeyi met her gaze. Her throat bobbed. Then she nodded once.
Ming Young extended her hand. Jaeyi took it, her grip instinctively firm. The scent of lilacs rose faintly from her bouquet.
Two servants stepped forward and gently pulled back the pale silk curtains, revealing the entrance of the aisle. The sunlight filtered through the tall stained glass behind them, painting soft colours upon the white stone floor.
The music shifted—rising a little, sweet and tender.
And then, at once, everyone inside rose to their feet.
Jaeyi’s breath caught.
Because there, at the end of the altar, stood Seulgi.
Her cravat had been tied into a precise, charming bowtie. Her black tailcoat was perfectly tailored, cinched just so at the waist, and her hands were clasped in front of her with studied composure. But it was her face that nearly undid Jaeyi.
That expression.
As though she were watching a miracle unfold.
Their eyes met and something in Jaeyi’s chest unfurled. All the nerves, all the fears, all the hours spent wondering if she was worthy of this happiness, melted away like frost beneath the sun.
Jaeyi felt her eyes sting with tears. It struck her then, with breathtaking clarity—Seulgi was truly to be hers.
She turned her gaze towards the pews. Only the first two rows on the left were filled—intimate, quiet, sacred. There was no grand announcement to the ton, no sea of curious spectators. Just the ones who mattered.
The Harrington family, the Yoos, Lady Danbury, Benedict and Kyung.
Yeri stood in a pale violet gown with her hair swept up, smiling so widely her eyes nearly disappeared. Beside her stood Kyung.
Meanwhile Beomsu’s jaw had gone slack. She leaned to George, whispering far too loudly, “She really is beautiful.”
George, equally breathless, muttered back in awe, “It’s like an angel came from heaven.”
Lady Aerin, standing beside them, offered a soft smile, her gloved hands neatly folded, her eyes lingering on Jaeyi with quiet pride.
As for Seulgi, her lips parted, stunned, as her gaze swept over Jaeyi.
The gown of soft white satin with a wide V neckline and short, gathered sleeves fit her like a dream. Madame Delacroix had outdone herself. The veil trailed behind her like mist on water, delicate lace glinting with embroidery. But what took Seulgi’s breath most was the way the gown curved gently around Jaeyi’s belly, cradling the child they would soon welcome together.
Seulgi discreetly pinched her own hand, the sharp sting grounding her.
This was real. Jaeyi was truly walking towards her.
Jaeyi stepped forward in slow grace, hand clasped firmly around her mother’s. When they reached the altar, she turned to Ming Young, offering her bouquet with trembling hands. Her mother took it gently, gave a small, tearful smile, and then stepped down to join the others.
Seulgi reached out without thinking.
Jaeyi’s gloved hand met hers.
They turned to face one another properly. They said nothing but they smiled.
As the others took their seats. The soft strains of music faded.
The minister stepped forward and began with solemnity.
“Dearly beloved,” he intoned, “we are gathered here today, in the sight of God and this congregation, to join together this woman—” he nodded to Seulgi—“and this woman—” now to Jaeyi—“in holy matrimony.”
A hush settled over the room, like a prayer made flesh.
Ara standing just over Seulgi’s shoulder turned slightly. Her gaze found Jaena, who stood tall and graceful just behind her own sister, bouquet still clutched tightly.
They exchanged a loving look.
Kyung shifted slightly and turned her gaze towards Yeri.
The minister cleared his throat gently and turned to Seulgi.
“Wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife,” he asked solemnly, “to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou forsake all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
Seulgi’s shoulders straightened.
She turned fully to Jaeyi then and her voice, clear and sure, echoed in the small chapel.
“I do. I, Seulgi Harrington, take thee, Yoo Jaeyi, to be my wedded wife.”
A flutter passed through Jaeyi’s chest like a dove set free.
Seulgi’s voice softened, but her gaze never wavered. “To have and to hold.”
Jaeyi exhaled slowly, the moment settling into her bones. It was her turn to speak.
“I,” she replied gently, “Yoo Jaeyi, take thee, Seulgi Harrington, to be my wedded wife.”
She gave Seulgi’s hands a soft squeeze before continuing, “To have and to hold.”
The minister nodded.
A small box was handed to him, from which he took a delicate ring—gold, set with fine pearls.
He passed it to Seulgi.
With utmost care, Seulgi lifted Jaeyi’s left hand and gently tugged at the base of her glove. The soft fabric slid down, inch by inch, revealing the bare skin of her fingers.
Jaeyi’s throat tightened slightly at the sensation—cool air brushing over her hand, Seulgi’s fingertips grazing hers.
Seulgi looked into her eyes.
“With this ring,” she said, voice reverent, “I thee wed.”
She slipped the ring onto Jaeyi’s finger. The band fit perfectly, sliding over in a single smooth motion. Then, before letting go, Seulgi’s fingers brushed across her palm, slow and light.
A beat passed.
Jaeyi inhaled, her lashes fluttering once before she whispered, “With my body, I thee worship.”
A quiet hush settled across the church. No one breathed. No one dared move.
Seulgi’s lips parted softly, a faint smile curving at the corners as she let out a shaky breath.
The minister glanced down once more at the joined hands between them. “And by the joining of hands,” he declared, “I pronounce that they may be wives together in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.”
“Amen,” murmured the congregation.
Seulgi stepped forward, her hands still clasping Jaeyi’s, and leaned in.
Their lips pressed together in quiet promise, in awe of the moment they had crossed into.
When they pulled apart, they lingered in each other’s eyes.
Jaeyi’s cheeks glowed. Seulgi’s chest rose and fell with a steadying breath.
Behind them, their family stirred and then applause filled the church, warm and loving.
Beomsu clapped enthusiastically, whispering something to George who looked too stunned to speak. Aerin clapped cheerfully, there was unmistakable fondness in her expression. Benedict let out a soft cheer. Yeri wiped at her cheek discreetly.
Jaeyi and Seulgi turned together to face them, now standing side by side.
They smiled—newly made wives, hands clasped, hearts full.
-----
The ballroom at Ara and Jaena’s residence was abuzz with laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft strains of a lively minuet played upon the violin. Light spilled in from the tall arched windows, gilding the polished floors and lending a golden glow to the already splendid occasion.
On the banquet table, an extravagant cake stood proudly at the centre—tall, delicate, adorned with pale roses made of sugar and crowned with fresh blooms. Surrounding it were towers of pastries, gleaming crystal dishes of sweet jellies, and silver trays filled with delicate scones and savouries. Footmen moved deftly between guests, offering lemonade, while the scent of orange blossom and warm butter filled the room.
In one corner of the vast ballroom, standing somewhat apart from the crowd, were the newlyweds.
They stood hand in hand, quietly observing the crowd.
"Truly, your sister has outdone herself," Seulgi murmured, eyes scanning the grandeur before them. "I daresay I have never seen so many people gathered with the sole intention of eating cake."
Jaeyi gave a breathless laugh. "I still cannot believe she managed to convince us to do all of this."
And indeed, it had been Jaena’s insistence. Despite the intimate wedding, both the Yoo and Harrington families had insisted there be at least a wedding breakfast—a celebration to mark the occasion with abundance and joy.
“You deserve cake,” Jaena had said with all the fervour of a general planning a campaign. “And trays and trays of it.”
To which Ming Young had added, “We should invite the ton too… even if they did not see the vows, they should see the feast.”
And somehow, both Seulgi and Jaeyi had yielded.
Now, watching the crush of guests mingle and the tables overflow, Jaeyi leaned slightly into Seulgi's side.
Seulgi turned to her immediately. "May I fetch you something? Some more lemonade? A plate of scones? You haven’t eaten a thing."
Jaeyi gave a small shake of her head, squeezing Seulgi’s hand tighter. "I want you here," she said softly. "Just don’t leave me."
The Viscount’s face gentled. Her expression turned so tender it near melted Jaeyi where she stood. “Of course not,” she said. “But at the very least, allow me to bring you a chair? You have been standing so long.”
“I am quite well,” Jaeyi replied, her voice hushed with affection. She reached up to cup Seulgi’s cheek, thumb brushing lightly along her jaw. “I am very happy, just as I am.”
Seulgi leaned in, unable to look anywhere but her wife’s eyes, about to close the last of the distance between them—
"Sister!" a voice rang out, breathless and joyful.
Beomsu appeared, George trailing behind her. She beamed as she reached them.
“It was the most beautiful wedding I have ever seen,” she announced, eyes wide with sincerity.
Seulgi smiled warmly. “Thank you, Beomsu. That means the world.”
George, standing a touch behind his sister, piped up with earnest admiration, “And Ms Jaeyi you looked so beautiful.”
Beomsu turned and elbowed him sharply in the side. “It’s Mrs. Jaeyi now!”
“Ow!” George winced, rubbing his ribs.
But before he could protest further, a servant passed by with a tray of jewel-toned jellies, and both Beomsu and George gasped as though they'd spotted treasure. With matching gleams in their eyes, they took off in pursuit.
“Wait! Do you think there’s gooseberry?” Beomsu cried.
“Or elderflower!” George added.
Jaeyi and Seulgi burst into soft laughter, their shoulders brushing as they watched the younger Haaringtons weave through the guests.
Then from across the room, Yeri appeared—a plate balanced gracefully in her hand.
“I come bearing gifts,” she declared with a flourish.
Jaeyi accepted the plate gratefully. “Oh, Yeri thank you. I was just thinking I should try something before the baby protests.”
Yeri inclined her head with mock solemnity. “Only the finest for you.”
Then, turning to Seulgi, she narrowed her eyes and raised a pointed finger. “But let it be known this is for Jaeyi only.”
But her protest was cut short as Jaeyi, picked up a plump grape from the plate and gently held it to Seulgi’s lips.
The Viscount accepted the offering, cheeks tinged with the faintest pink.
Yeri gasped, clutching her chest. “Betrayed already. I have witnessed it with my very eyes.”
Jaeyi giggled behind her fingers. “Neither of us has eaten much since this morning.”
“Mm,” Yeri said, taking a delicate bite of a scone. “Well, I suppose I can forgive it—given the circumstances.”
She sobered slightly, though the sparkle in her eye remained. “Jaeyi, though I am devastated that I have lost another friend to the institution of marriage, I am more than pleased to know you shall be staying here with us. It will be a boon to finally have another intelligent woman in the house.”
Seulgi raised a brow. “You do know that I am standing right here?”
Yeri did not even glance in her direction.
She instead turned back to Jaeyi, lowering her voice into a stage whisper. “And truly, if ever you require advice on how to handle my sister’s more… menacing tendencies, I am but a step away. Do not suffer in silence.”
Seulgi’s mouth parted in protest, but before she could utter a word, two familiar figures approached from behind Lady Danbury, cane in hand, and Lady Aerin, her posture poised as ever.
“Miss Yeri,” Lady Danbury began, her voice carrying that unmistakable blend of amusement and authority, “I do hope you are not harassing our newlyweds on their wedding morning.”
Yeri froze as though caught mid-theatre act. With perfect dramatics, she straightened her gown and dipped into a quick curtsy. “Lady Danbury,” she greeted sweetly, “I would never dream of such.”
“I should hope not,” Lady Danbury said, her eyes twinkling as Yeri retreated with all the dignity she could muster.
Once she was gone, Aerin stepped forward, her expression gentler. She reached out and took both Jaeyi and Seulgi’s hands, her touch warm and steady.
“How are you both, my dears?” she asked, her voice full of that calm affection that only mothers seemed to possess.
“Quite well, my lady,” Jaeyi replied with a soft smile. “Though you truly did not have to go to such lengths for this breakfast. Everything is far too grand.”
“Nonsense,” Aerin replied lightly, waving away the thought. “You two deserve nothing less than the finest.”
Lady Danbury hummed in agreement. “Indeed. And one day, when you are to host, you will understand the importance of grandeur. There is an art to celebration. It declares to the world not only joy, but power.”
Jaeyi blinked, caught between awe and intrigue. The thought of hosting a grand event.like the one she hosted at Lady Danbury’s estate sparked something bright within her. Her heart warmed at the idea. She had always loved planning and creating spaces of beauty and comfort; now, she might truly have the chance.
“I should very much like that,” she admitted softly.
Seulgi looked at her with a kind of proud fondness that made Jaeyi’s pulse flutter. “Well, I have no doubt you shall host the grandest of balls Mayfair has ever seen,” she said. “You have some of the finest ideas I have ever come across.”
Jaeyi’s cheeks coloured, a delicate pink blooming high on her face. “You are too kind.”
“But it is true,” Seulgi murmured, the smile tugging at her lips laced with sincerity.
Their eyes met, quiet and knowing, and for a moment the entire ballroom around them seemed to dim. The chatter of guests, the clinking of cutlery and laughter, all blurred into something soft and faraway.
Lady Danbury and Aerin exchanged a glance, their expressions almost mirror-like—content and touched with approval.
Just then, a familiar voice broke through the moment. “Oh, Lady Aerin, Lady Danbury there you are!”
Jaena swept toward them in a gown of pale pink trimmed with ivory lace, her hair pinned in curls that danced as she moved. Her smile was bright, but her tone held just the faintest note of urgency.
“My mother is looking for you both,” she added. “Something to do with the florists and the upstairs drawing room, I believe.”
Lady Danbury sighed, though there was a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “Gods save us from post-wedding chaos.”
With a nod and a gracious farewell, both she and Aerin excused themselves, drifting off toward the far end of the hall.
As soon as they disappeared from view, Jaena’s smile shifted into something more mischievous—sharp, familiar, and unmistakably sisterly. She turned toward Seulgi and Jaeyi with her arms folded.
“What are you two still doing here?”
Jaeyi blinked, caught off guard. “I—pardon?”
Jaena didn’t wait for an answer. She reached over and plucked the empty plate from Jaeyi’s hands. “You’ve already made your appearance. The cake’s been cut, you’ve spoken to nearly everyone important… now go. You are meant to be gone by now. This is your honeymoon.”
Seulgi raised her brows. “Is it not our wedding breakfast?”
“Yes,” Jaena replied, waving the plate dismissively. “But it’s also your farewell breakfast, which you were meant to leave now. Honestly.”
Before either of them could muster a reply, Ara appeared behind them, her expression equally incredulous. “Lord above, you’re still here?” she said. “Has the carriage not arrived?”
Seulgi and Jaeyi turned toward one another at the same time, startled.
“No—” Seulgi began.
“But we can—” Jaeyi said.
“Do you suppose—?” they both muttered.
Jaena threw up her hands, sighing theatrically. “You have five minutes. If I catch either of you in this room after that, I shall ensure no more scones come your way for the rest of the season, unnie. Mark my words.”
And with a huff that could only be described as sisterly exasperation, she turned on her heel and marched off into the crowd.
Jaeyi and Seulgi stood frozen for a moment, wide-eyed.
Then they looked at one another and laughed. Soft, real laughter that spilled from their lips without restraint.
“Well,” Jaeyi said between breaths, her cheeks warm, “I suppose I have been looking forward to leaving.”
Seulgi’s gaze softened instantly. She leaned in, her voice low and affectionate. “Then come on,” she murmured. “Let us go home.”
Home.
The word landed in Jaeyi’s chest like a gentle bell tolling. Steady. Safe. Her fingers curled tighter around Seulgi’s hand as they began to slip through the room together, dodging curious glances and half-finished conversations.
-----
The moment they stepped through the doors of Harrington House, Jaeyi paused.
The air smelled faintly of rose and beeswax polish, the hush of the great hall wrapping around her.
Home.
It felt new and yet known all at once. This house was now hers too. Not just a refuge. Not merely a place to stay. But a place she could belong to. A piece of history she wanted to belong to.
She barely had time to take in the warmth of it when suddenly—
The Viscount bent low and swept her clean off her feet into a bridal carry.
“Seulgi!” Jaeyi let out a startled shriek—not one of fear, but of flustered delight.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she gasped, wrapping her arms around her wife’s neck.
Seulgi looked at her with a smirk, utterly pleased with herself. “Bringing my wife to our bedchamber, naturally.”
Jaeyi’s mouth parted, but words abandoned her. She blinked, the heat rushing up her neck. “Y-you—I—”
“Jaeyi you cannot possibly believe I would allow my newly wedded, pregnant bride to climb two flights of stairs after such a long day,” Seulgi said, tone far too composed for someone currently carrying a whole woman in her arms. “And, you’ve been on your feet since morning.”
Jaeyi’s blush deepened. “But what if the someone sees us?”
Seulgi arched a single brow. “Like whom, exactly?”
And as if summoned by mischief itself, Mary rounded the corridor.
The housekeeper stopped short, mouth agape for the briefest moment. “Oh!”
Seulgi, ever unbothered, turned toward her with a calm nod. “Mary, would you be so kind as to prepare a warm bath for my wife? And perhaps lay out the oils.”
Mary blinked once. Then, a smile slowly formed on her face. “Of course, my lord. I shall send Nari up to assist.”
“Thank you,” Seulgi said, still holding Jaeyi without the slightest tremble of effort.
Before leaving, Mary gave them both a kind, knowing look. “And… congratulations, Lord Harrington. Lady Harrington.” Her voice was warm with genuine affection.
When she disappeared down the hallway, Jaeyi buried her face into Seulgi’s coat.
“Oh heavens Seulgi,” she muttered, her voice muffled. “What must she think?”
Seulgi looked, amusement dancing in her eyes. “She likely thinks I am fulfilling my duties as a spouse. Carrying my wife up the stairs is hardly scandalous.”
Jaeyi could only shake her head, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She did not argue again.
Seulgi moved with ease and certainty, the climb up the stairs requiring no visible exertion on her part. Her steps were steady, sure. And Jaeyi allowed herself to relax at last.
The hush of the upper floor settled around them.
After a quiet moment, Jaeyi tilted her head slightly, whispering, “Am I not heavy?”
Seulgi didn’t miss a step. “Not at all.”
After a small beat she added, “You are perfect.”
At those words, something within Jaeyi gave way. She nestled closer, resting her cheek against the crook of Seulgi’s neck, the scent of her—cedarwood and a faint trace of lemon—bringing a deep comfort. The kind that wrapped around the bones and made everything feel safe.
When they reached the second floor, Seulgi did not turn toward the master chamber as Jaeyi expected, but instead took a gentle right.
She pushed open a door with one elbow and stepped inside, carefully setting Jaeyi on her feet just beyond the threshold.
“Here,” she said softly.
Jaeyi blinked, adjusting to the light within. Then she stilled.
The room was awash in pale creams and soft greens, delicate lace curtains draping the tall windows, and against the far wall stood a grand wooden crib, polished and waiting. A small armchair had been placed near the hearth, and a woolen rug lay beneath it all, like a quiet invitation to step closer.
A nursery.
Her heart swelled—unexpected, and yet… so full.
Seulgi lingered just behind, giving her space.
Jaeyi stepped forward, drawn almost unconsciously toward the crib. Her gloved fingers trailed along the carved edge of the railing, her breath catching.
“This…” she murmured.
“It was the same all of us were born in,” Seulgi said gently from behind. Her voice faltered for a moment, then continued, a touch rushed now, “Of course, we—we can replace it, if you wish. Something new. Something finer. I only thought—well, I thought it might bring comfort, to have something familiar. But if it does not—”
Jaeyi turned to her swiftly, shaking her head.
“No,” she whispered, her hand still resting on the crib. “I want this one…it’s perfect.”
A breath Seulgi hadn’t realised she was holding slipped from her lips.
Jaeyi turned to her fully then. “You thought of all this?” she asked quietly.
“I only wished to be prepared,” Seulgi admitted. She stepped closer, hesitant now. Her gaze flickered to Jaeyi’s middle, then back to her face. “I want the best for—” She trailed off, uncertain how to finish.
For your child?
For you?
For us?
The words tangled in her throat.
But Jaeyi saw it—the hesitation, the hope, the anxiety wrapped around it like twine.
Without speaking, she reached out, took Seulgi’s hand, and guided it gently to rest upon her belly. Her own hand covered it protectively.
For a long moment, they stood like that—hands entwined, joined over the soft rise of life between them.
“Our baby,” Jaeyi said, her voice a whisper, but steady.
Seulgi looked at her, eyes wide with quiet astonishment.
“I want them to be ours,” Jaeyi continued, her thumb tracing slow circles over Seulgi’s knuckles. “I want you to be their mother, Seulgi.”
As if in answer, the baby gave a firm kick beneath Seulgi’s hand.
Seulgi startled, then laughed—a breathy, disbelieving sound and her other hand came up instinctively to cradle Jaeyi’s waist.
Jaeyi’s eyes shimmered with emotion. “I love you,” she said quietly. “And this baby… they love you, too. We both do. So much.”
Seulgi swallowed hard, blinking fast as her thumb brushed over the curve of Jaeyi’s middle again. She opened her mouth to respond but found no words strong enough to match the feeling rising in her chest.
Instead, she leaned in, and Jaeyi met her halfway.
Their lips met. It was not a kiss of desperation or hunger, but one of deep promise. Of beginnings. Of unspoken vows already being lived.
Seulgi’s hand never left Jaeyi’s belly. She kept it there even as the sounds of approaching footsteps echoed from the corridor.
A gentle knock, followed by Mary’s voice—kind but efficient—announced softly through the nursery door, “My Lord, My Lady. Your baths are ready. Nari is standing by to assist Lady Harrington, should it be required.”
Before Jaeyi could respond, Seulgi lifted her head slightly, her voice calm but firm. “Thank you, Mary. Nari will not be needed at the bath.” A pause, then, “I shall tend to my wife myself.”
There was a small pause. Then, through the door, Mary’s voice carried a trace of amusement. “As you wish, Lord Harrington.”
Jaeyi turned to Seulgi, eyes wide. “Seulgi—”
Mary’s voice came again, warmer now, “I shall ask Nari to prepare a chemise for Lady Harrington once her bath is done.”
Seulgi smiled faintly. “Thank you, Mary.”
When the footsteps faded down the corridor, Jaeyi face turned pink. “You are impossible.”
Seulgi grinned. “I did promise a pleasurable night, did I not?”
-----
Jaeyi stood just outside the bath chamber, the soft cotton of her robe wrapped loosely about her. She drew a steadying breath before pushing open the door and then her breath caught.
Seulgi was already inside.
The Viscount had shed her tailcoat and waistcoat. She now wore only a loose white shirt, the top two buttons undone at the collar, sleeves rolled to the elbow. The fine linen clung softly to her frame in the humid air, and her black trousers sat snug at her hips.
Jaeyi’s breath faltered.
Seulgi turned then, as if summoned by the very thought of her. Her dark eyes swept over Jaeyi in one long, reverent glance.
“My Lady,” she murmured, stepping toward her, “are you ready for your bath?”
The teasing lilt in Seulgi’s tone made Jaeyi’s blush rise even higher.
“Seulgi… y-you don’t have to…” she stammered. “I can manage, truly—”
“Jaeyi,” Seulgi’s voice was low, coaxing. She reached out and gently lifted Jaeyi’s chin, tilting her gaze upward until their eyes met. “I want to,” she said softly. “Let me look after you. Tonight, and forevermore.”
The sincerity in her tone settled something inside Jaeyi.
She nodded.
Seulgi’s fingers brushed the edge of her robe, gliding down toward the sash that held it closed. She paused, her voice barely a whisper. “May I?”
Jaeyi swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. “Yes.”
With slow, careful movements, Seulgi undid the knot. The robe loosened and slipped from Jaeyi’s shoulders, sliding down her arms until it gathered soundlessly at her feet.
She took a soft breath in.
She had imagined—dreamt, even of moments like this. But nothing had prepared her for the reality.
There Jaeyi stood before her, hair falling in loose waves, skin glowing warm from the sunlight, her body soft and beautiful in its fullness. Her shoulders were bare, her chest rising and falling with nervous breath. And there, gently cradled beneath the curve of her ribs, was the delicate swell of her belly.
Seulgi felt her heart thrum with something too vast for words.
Slowly, she stepped forward and lifted both her hands, settling them gently on Jaeyi’s stomach. The heat of her palms met the warmth of skin, and she stood there quietly, thumbs stroking gently.
“You’re so beautiful Jaeyi,” she whispered.
Jaeyi's eyes fluttered closed. Her chest ached with something soft and deep. She had never been seen like this.
And yet, even as Seulgi gazed at her in quiet awe, Jaeyi’s hands instinctively came up, crossing before her chest, as though to shield herself from sight. Her shoulders hunched slightly.
“I—please do not look at me like that,” she whispered, her voice small. “I am—” she hesitated, eyes darting away.
Her tone was fragile, trembling with a slight shame.
Seulgi’s chest ached. She gently took Jaeyi’s wrists, lowering them. Her touch was steady, unhurried, filled with care.
“Jaeyi,” she murmured, her voice so low it almost melted into the sound of the steam. “You are beautiful. There is nothing about you that should be hidden.”
Jaeyi looked up at Seulgi. Their eyes locked. And then, without another word, they leaned in—meeting in a kiss so soft, so quietly full of emotion that it felt as though the whole house had hushed around them.
There was no urgency in the way their lips met. Only a warmth, a vow, a breath shared between them.
When they parted, Seulgi did not let go. She kept one hand on Jaeyi’s belly, the other curling gently around her fingers.
“Come,” she said softly. “The water’s ready.”
She led Jaeyi forward, careful and unhurried. The wide copper bathtub gleamed. Steam curled above the water’s surface, dancing in silver ribbons through the quiet air.
Jaeyi took a tentative step and dipped one foot in. The warmth rushed up her leg like a silent sigh, loosening something she had not known she’d been holding.
With Seulgi’s hand steady at her back, she stepped in fully.
The heat embraced her, and her muscles all at once gave way. She sank down with a soft exhale, shoulders falling, head tipping slightly back.
“Does the water feel right?” Seulgi’s voice was soft beside her.
Jaeyi nodded, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment.
She lowered herself a little deeper. Her nose caught the scent, gentle and floral. She opened her eyes and turned her head slightly.
“Is that lavender?” she asked, surprised by the quiet joy in her voice.
Seulgi’s mouth curved into a smile as she knelt beside the tub. “Indeed, it is.”
Seulgi reached across to make sure her wife was fully settled, checking the water was not too hot, too deep. Once satisfied, she rose and stepped behind the tub, lowering herself to her knees.
Her fingers were gentle as she reached for the small bar of soap and began to lather it between her palms. She dipped her hands into the water, then reached forward and began to wash Jaeyi’s hair.
Slow, deliberate movements—lathering at the crown, combing her fingers gently through the long strands, kneading along the scalp. There was nothing rushed or careless about it. Each motion was purposeful.
Jaeyi felt as though she might dissolve. No one had ever washed her before.
She didn’t speak. Couldn’t.
When Seulgi was done, she dipped the small basin beside her into the tub and gently poured it over Jaeyi’s head, rinsing the soap out without once letting water trickle into her eyes.
Then Seulgi set the basin aside and reached for the vial of lavender oil. She poured a few drops into her hand, warmed it between her palms and moved forward again.
She began at the nape of Jaeyi’s neck, her fingers pressing in small circles, rubbing the oil in with care. She moved along the slope of her neck, then to her shoulders—each motion slow, each touch featherlight yet purposeful.
Jaeyi closed her eyes again, her body surrendering piece by piece to the care being offered.
The scent of lavender thickened in the air, calming, soothing.
Seulgi continued to Jaeyi’s arms, rubbing along the lines of her shoulders. Then, at last, she shifted from behind and came to the side of the tub.
She met Jaeyi’s gaze with a small, quiet smile, and took one of her arms gently between her hands. With the same careful rhythm, she lathered and washed it, her thumbs pressing softly into each knot of tension.
Then the other.
There was nothing overt in her touch—no seduction, no performance. Just devotion. The kind that spoke of love far deeper than desire.
And with every touch, every breath, Jaeyi felt something inside her begin to uncoil.
Her heart was beating far too fast, and yet she felt no fear. Just a powerful ache in her chest.
Not the ache of want—though that simmered still—but the ache of being known. Cared for.
And Jaeyi felt the tears gather unbidden behind her eyes.
She blinked them away.
Her hands trembled slightly beneath Seulgi’s, but not from the cold.
Seulgi glanced up at her then, and though she did not ask aloud, her eyes did.
Jaeyi gave a small, wavering smile. “I am well,” she said. “Truly.”
Seulgi nodded, squeezing her arm gently, then lifted it and pressed a soft kiss to her damp wrist.
The water rippled as she released it.
And in that soft, lavender-scented silence, Jaeyi allowed herself—for the first time in years—to be entirely, wholly cared for.
-----
Jaeyi stood quietly in the nursery once more, clad in nothing but a cream-coloured cotton chemise that fell delicately to her calves. The material was soft against her skin, still warm from the bath, her hair loosely pinned back. Her limbs held that rare post-relief calm—sated, rested, and deeply at peace.
She ran a hand along the polished edge of the crib, then down to her rounded belly, as her eyes took in the room once more.
The knowledge that this very space had once held her wife in their infancy made her heart ache in the best possible way. It was as though her baby had been born into a legacy of love before even taking a breath.
Her throat tightened.
“You are going to love this family,” she whispered down to her stomach, her voice tremulous. “Our family.”
The last word caught in her chest.
She had never known how much she needed to say it until it came out. A quiet affirmation of all the pain left behind. All the broken pieces now sewn into something whole.
The door creaked open further, and Seulgi stepped inside.
Her voice was soft. “Hey.”
Jaeyi turned, and at once, Seulgi reached for her hand. The moment their fingers touched, Jaeyi felt grounded like a breath of air she hadn’t realised she’d been holding.
Seulgi murmured, “Come.”
They walked together through the hallway. Just a few steps from the nursery stood a tall set of double wooden doors—rich oak with gilded knobs.
Then, Seulgi opened the door.
The moment they stepped inside, Jaeyi’s breath caught in her throat.
Her lips parted, but no words came.
The room was vast. Far larger than any she had ever stood in since arriving in Mayfair.
Sunlight, pale and golden, streamed gently through tall floor-to-ceiling windows. The curtains, drawn partway, were made of dark green velvet, their edges trimmed with delicate tassels and golden beads that shimmered faintly in the light. The air carried a mild scent of wood polish and something older—something dignified.
The floors, a polished mahogany, gleamed beneath her slippers. A long rug of burgundy and gold stretched down the centre, its intricate pattern flowing like a river through the room.
But it was the desk at the heart of the space that held her gaze.
A grand table of carved walnut, its surface broad and smooth, though uncluttered. Two unlit candelabras flanked either side, elegant and poised like sentinels. Between them, clean ivory paper sat stacked with care beside quills and an ink pot. The carvings that lined the desk’s edge—floral and curved spoke of craftsmanship passed down generations.
Jaeyi’s hand fluttered to her chest.
Seulgi turned to her then, her voice low and fond. “This was my mother’s study.”
Jaeyi blinked, her gaze tearing away from the desk to meet hers.
“She had one in her quarters as well,” Seulgi went on, stepping deeper into the room, her hand brushing the edge of the desk as she passed it. “But she preferred this one. She always said the light was kinder here.”
Jaeyi moved closer, her voice a hushed whisper. “It’s beautiful.”
Seulgi smiled. “It is yours.”
The words hit like a summer breeze, unexpected and utterly disarming. Jaeyi turned to face her, blinking. “Seulgi…”
Seulgi took both her hands, gently squeezing them as she spoke. “This house belongs to both of us, Jaeyi. Every inch. I wish for you to feel that. To know it. And more than that…” she looked around the room with genuine warmth, “I want you to have a space where your mind may roam free. Where you may write, or plan, or simply sit in peace. I figured we can start with this room.”
Or…” she hesitated, suddenly sounding uncertain, “if this room does not appeal to you, we may find another one to—”
But Jaeyi was already shaking her head, overcome. “No. I love this one. I love it so much.”
Seulgi’s smile deepened all the way to her eyes. She exhaled softly, a touch of relief in the sound. “Then it is settled. You can redecorate it however you’d like. You need not hesitate.”
Jaeyi took another look around, already imagining what she might add.
“Now, let me show you the bedroom,” Seulgi said then, her voice slipping into a mischievous lilt that made Jaeyi’s stomach flutter.
She guided Jaeyi toward the left side of the study where another grand entrance stood, framed by two tall wooden doors with polished gold knobs. Seulgi reached forward, her hand warm even against the brass, and turned one of the handles.
The door opened.
And the breath left Jaeyi’s lungs.
A soft, involuntary gasp escaped her lips.
The bedroom was beautiful. The walls were dark and warmed under the glow of the fire already crackling in the hearth. A magnificent four‑poster bed dominated the centre. A wide carpet lay beneath it, patterned in muted blue and golds, clearly chosen with thought.
It was vast even more so than the study.
Jaeyi took one step inside and immediately shrieked, as Seulgi bent down and swept her clean off her feet in a bridal carry again.
“Seulgi!” she gasped, her laugh bubbling uncontrollably as her arms flew around Seulgi’s neck.
Seulgi grinned, dramatic and unrepentant. “The bed just seemed too far.”
She carried Jaeyi all the way to their bed and set her down gently upon the left side, as though she were lowering something precious into silk. Jaeyi sank into the softness, still giggling, still slightly breathless, her heart fluttering like wings.
Seulgi then climbed up herself, settling onto the right side of the mattress.
“So?” Seulgi asked softly. “What do you think?”
Jaeyi looked around again, her eyes wide, drinking in every detail. “It is… beautiful. Truly beautiful. I have never seen a room like this before.”
Seulgi’s face softened. “Well… you shall be seeing it every day now.” She paused, then added quickly with a nervous swallow, “Unless you prefer another room. I only chose this because it is closest to the nursery but if—”
Jaeyi didn’t let her finish.
She surged forward and kissed her.
A deep, searing kiss that swallowed every doubt Seulgi had tried to voice. Her fingers curled into the fabric of Seulgi’s shirt, pulling her close, closer, until their breaths mingled.
“Stop doubting yourself,” Jaeyi whispered between kisses, her lips brushing Seulgi’s with each syllable. “I love everything.”
Seulgi exhaled shakily almost a sigh of relief.
“I only want you to be comfortable,” she murmured, kissing her again. “My Viscountess deserves the best.”
Jaeyi froze. The word hung in the air between them, warm and steady, sinking deep into her chest like a lock clicking into place.
Her breath hitched. Her lips parted.
“Call me that again,” she whispered. “Please.”
Seulgi’s smile turned slow, deliberate, reverent. She leaned in until their lips almost touched, her breath fanning across Jaeyi’s mouth.
“My Viscountess…..Jaeyi Harrington.”
Another kiss, slow and melting.
Jaeyi hummed, her heart fluttering in her chest. “My Viscount…”
But just as she leaned in again, a knock sounded at the door.
She sighed and murmured, “Enter.”
The door opened and in came Mary, holding a silver tray with utmost grace and care. She gave a polite nod, her eyes sparkling just slightly at the sight of the couple settled against the pillows, cheeks pink and hands still clasped.
“Apologies for interrupting,” she said gently. “As requested, Lord Harrington.”
Seulgi sat up a little straighter. “Thank you, Mary.”
Jaeyi, flushed and flustered, tried to compose herself as she stammered, “S–sorry as well…”
Mary only dipped her head again, the corner of her mouth twitching with amusement, and took her leave.
When the door closed behind her, Jaeyi turned to Seulgi, her brows lifting. “You asked for dinner?”
Seulgi nodded and reached for the tray, revealing its contents. “I did not want you to get hungry,”
The moment the lid was lifted, the scent of rice and warm broth filled the air. The tray was generous—eggs, meat, sliced fruit, two steaming bowls of soup, and at the center, a small plate piled high with scones.
Jaeyi blinked. Her throat caught. The tears rose before she could stop them.
Seulgi’s head whipped up, alarm overtaking her expression. “Jaeyi? What is wrong?”
Jaeyi quickly shook her head and wiped at her cheek. “No. No, nothing is wrong… it’s only—” she tried to breathe through the emotion, “You’ve just made me so happy today… so very loved. I do not have the words for it.”
Seulgi’s gaze softened immediately. She reached for Jaeyi’s hand, brushing her thumb over her knuckles.
“Every day shall feel this way.” she replied softly. “I swear it. I will spend the rest of my life making you feel adored.”
Jaeyi’s lips parted. She nodded faintly, overcome with feeling. And then, as though summoned by the memory of warm broth and shared kisses, her stomach let out a most unladylike growl.
Seulgi chuckled under her breath.
Jaeyi flushed deeper, half-hiding behind her hand. “It seems my body has decided to answer for me.”
Still smiling, she reached forward and drew the tray carefully between them, even as Seulgi hesitated.
“It’s for you and the baby,” Seulgi said. “I can fetch more.”
“I am sharing it with my wife,” Jaeyi replied firmly, already breaking a piece of bread.
Their shoulders touched. The food was simple, but Jaeyi swore it tasted better than anything she had ever tasted. The broth warmed her to her core, the rice was soft and rich, and the scones—slightly sweet, crumbling just so—were perfect.
Seulgi made sure Jaeyi had the softest pillow behind her back, always nudging the tray toward her, ever watchful without being overbearing.
And between bites and soft laughter, Jaeyi allowed herself to simply be.
She had spent so long watching joy from a distance.
Now, it was in her arms.
This was not the life she had expected when she arrived in Mayfair all those months ago. She had come to protect her sister. She had come to escape the cruel hands of her past. She had come expecting to endure.
Not to dream.
But now.
Here she was, curled beneath a large blanket, her belly full and warm, her heart fuller still. Her fingers were twined with the Viscount’s, her mouth still tingling from kisses that promised more than passion. They promised permanence.
She turned slightly toward Seulgi, who was watching her with an expression of awe, as if she too could not believe this was real.
Jaeyi pressed a kiss to her knuckles and whispered, “Thank you.”
Seulgi leaned forward, pressing her lips to Jaeyi’s brow. “Always.”
And so, they remained there, wrapped in quiet peace, the fire dimming, their hands clasped, hearts anchored.
It was the beginning of something new.
Something lasting.
-----
EXTRA:
So here's how Jaeyi and Seulgi's room roughly looks like. This was how it was when John and Violet used to stay here. It's important to know this cus in the future Jaeyi will definitely do some renovations and it'll subtly show the evolution of their relationship and just lives in general.
