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JUNGKOOK


I look around.

"I can't believe I'm back here."

"Have a cup of tea." Arlen says, elegantly tucking a golden coil of hair over the curve of her ear. She sips delicately from a small porcelain cup, her blue eyes fixing on me.

"And take that off. I want to see your face."

"My hood? But what if someone—"

"No one will know." She says, and I hesitantly slip the dark cloth back from my head. And I'm shaking out my hair when I notice her stare.

I blink.

"Do I have something on my face?"

"No, just mesmerized." She says casually, saying something that I'd never be able to say so easily. "How did anyone not notice? You are too beautiful to be a slave."

I breathe. "Arlen, please."

Her brow perks up. "Am I wrong?"

Then she waves me toward her, and I'm a little surprised as she fixes my hood back over my face, and passes me her cup of tea. I take it helplessly, wondering what in the world she wanted me to do—

She looks up.

"Come in."

What?

The door opens. And my lip instantly pulls back when I recognize Arlen's arranged marriage partner.

I still couldn't remember his name. Lemur, or something like that.

"Lyseo. Why are you here?"

Oh. Yeah. Him.

"Why is that slave here with you, in your private room?" The elf hisses, giving a scornful look in my direction. I bow my head a bit forward, when under the hood I'm scowling at him.

"He's serving me tea, if you really can't tell."

"And I still haven't finished." She says coldly. "I'd prefer that you make this quick, before the tea gets cold."

"Fine."

"You are my fiancée-to-be." He says, taking a step closer. "So I don't think I am wrong in the slightest when I ask this of you."

He tips a head in my way.

"Get rid of that slave, Arlen. Find a new one, I don't care. That one I don't like."

Arlen's eyes shift up from the tea.

"He is mine. It doesn't exactly matter if you don't like him or not."

I angle my head lower to the ground, so that the deep hood of the slave cloak hides the expression in my features.

He sighs angrily.

"You're awfully protective over him, Arlen."

"Is there something I'm missing?" He says, smiling darkly as he leans forward. "He's a lowlife slave, yet you're acting like he is something much more. Throw him out."

"You know,"

She stands. Her blue eyes flash, and even I freeze where I'm standing even though her gaze isn't on me. The ends of her dress sweep the floor.

"You seem awfully worried about my slave." She says, in a slightly mocking tone. "May I ask why? Are you worried I might just fall for him?"

His jaw stiffens.

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