Gwiboon sighed as she stepped through the threshold, a member of the household staff ready to retrieve her coat and purse, welcoming her home. “Good evening, Eunsook.” She greeted in return. “I trust everything is in order?”

The woman, though older, nodded in respect and stepped back to let Gwiboon pass. “Yes, Milady. As always. Mail from your sister, Junghee, has arrived and waiting in your study. And Master Minho is in the workshop. I ensured he ate supper, as you requested.”

“Thank you, Eunsook.” She said softly. “You may retire for the evening. I will see you in the morning.”

Eunsook bowed her head again. “Thank you, Milady. May you sleep well.”

The young woman smiled after Eunsook as she vanished into the door that lead directly to the lavish kitchen where their chef was already preparing food for the next day. Behind the kitchens were the staff quarters where the five members of their staff slept and ate their own meals. If she had it her way, they could take the spare rooms in the upstairs quarters of their home, seeing as she and her partner only needed one of the many rooms their house had. But, that would be unacceptable for people of their standings.

She sighed, brushing back a few stray strands of hair so they joined the lavish curls that sat atop her head. They’d come to London to escape being under the thumb of a strict society, but it seemed that even in such a place they were still trapped there.

An inevitable fate, it seemed.

Gwiboon made her way to the workshop, the room which held every item that led to their subsequent wealth, a practical duplicate of the room that had kept them afloat in the earlier years, in the three room apartment above the bakery that they’d rented. That they had been discovered, or rather, that the talents of a genius had been discovered, was a miracle and still a manner of mystery to Gwiboon, who had always known that the love of her life was gifted beyond measure, but couldn’t believe anyone else would see the way she still did.

Still, despite how they could live now, without concern for where their next meal would be, there were things Gwiboon missed about their anonymity. Such as their privacy. There never seemed to be enough of it anymore and to be intimate with one another in any way… they had to have complete privacy. Not just because it would be poor manners to do so in public but because of… other reasons.

“You’re going to burn the midnight oil again, my love?” Gwiboon inquired, stepping through the door to the workshop and not so subtly closing it behind her, using the key hanging from the handle to lock it firmly.

Minho turned his head, eyeing the door for a brief moment before the gaze rose to Gwiboon’s face, assessing the expression there. “I was hoping so. There is a lot of work for me to do… I received five more broken items today and I’m already behind.”

Pouting softly, Gwiboon stepped forwards, hands behind her back, letting her skirts brush on the wood floor. “I only want a few moments of your time. You know, as your wife.”

Minho smiled in response, turning from the workbench littered with devices, parts and small tools. “You’re oddly needy this evening, you only just returned home, did you not?”

“Yes, I did. But I confess, I’ve been trying to get your attention for a long time. But you’ve been so very busy.” Gwiboon said, adding a whine and another fitting pout to her flirtatious tone. “And I’ve been so lonely.”

Fingers rose to her cheek and Gwiboon leaned into the touch, adoring the tenderness to them, the calloused tips always so gentle. “I’m sorry, Gwiboon…”

“Then take a break.” She insisted, stepping closer and rising to her toes, so close they were Gwiboon could feel the breath from the other’s mouth brush her lips. “Show me how sorry you are. Minjung.”

At the sound of her real name, Minho’s façade – an expression perfected over many years – melted away before the only person in London who knew the truth. Minjung smirked, her voice lightening an octave to her natural tone as she spoke. “Turn around, my love, and let me untie that corset.”