It was, Chanyeol decided as he took a sip of some truly excellent brandy, rather nice to be back in Seoul. It was quite strange, actually, how he loved returning home just as much as he did the departure. In another few months—six at the most—he'd be itching to leave again, but for now, Seoul in April was positively brilliant.

 

"It's good, isn't it?" Chanyeol looked up. His brother Baekhyun was leaning against the front of his massive mahogany desk, motioning to him with his own glass of brandy. Chanyeol nodded.

 

"Hadn't realized how much I missed it until I returned. Jeju has its charms, but this"—he lifted his glass—"is heaven."

 

Baekhyun smiled wryly. "And how long do you plan to remain this time?" Chanyeol wandered over to the window and pretended to look out. His eldest brother made little attempt to disguise his impatience with Chanyeol's wanderlust.

 

In truth, Chanyeol really couldn't blame him. Occasionally, it was difficult to read messages from home.

 

Every now and then, he simply had to get away. There was no other way to describe it. Away from the ton, who thought him a charming rogue and nothing else, away from Seoul, which encouraged younger sons to enter the military or the clergy, neither of which suited his temperament. Even away from his family, who loved him unconditionally but had no clue that what he really wanted, deep down inside, was something to do.

 

His brother Baekhyun held the viscountcy, and with that came myriad responsibilities. He ran estates, managed the family's finances, and saw to the welfare of countless tenants and servants. Baekhyun would be forever remembered in family trees as the seventh Viscount Park.

 

Chen would live through his paintings, long after he left this earth. But Chanyeol had nothing. He managed the small property given to him by his family and he attended parties. He would never dream of claiming he didn't have fun, but sometimes he wanted something a little more than fun.

 

He wanted a purpose.

He wanted a legacy.

 

He wanted, if not to know then at least to hope, that when he was gone, he'd be memorialized in some manner other than in Lady Kim, the Journalist’s Arirang Magaine.

 

He sighed. No wonder he spent so much time traveling.

 

"Chanyeol?" his brother prompted. Chanyeol turned to him and blinked.

 

He was fairly certain Baekhyun had asked him a question, but somewhere in the mean-derings of his mind, he'd forgotten what.

 

"Oh. Right." Chanyeol cleared his throat. "I'll be here for the rest of the season, at least."

 

Baekhyun said nothing, but it was difficult to miss the satisfied expression on his face.

 

"If nothing else," Chanyeol added, affixing his legendary crooked grin on his face, "someone has to spoil your children. I don't think your wife has nearly enough dolls."

 

"Only fifty," Baekhyun agreed in a deadpan v