Yun Yuh-jung, an elderly woman who serves as the house's main "caretaker." Every butler and maid in every nook and corner reports to her alone. It's no exaggeration to say that nothing that happened in the mansion escaped her notice. At least, such was the case until yesterday.

The woman in purple hair and casual wear that looked out of place against the interior of the mansion. The caretaker, just like all occupants of the mansion, are always ready with any  scathing remarks whenever this woman’s trying to do something funny or, in their most imaginative scenario, exert her so-called ‘dominance’ as Irene’s ‘betrothed’. 

It's all predetermined, if only the woman followed through, but she doesn't. She enters the dining room (which is vacant) and inquires about the heiress, to which Yuh-jung responds tersely. Their mistress is just like any other day, engrossed in business meetings. Yuh-jung observes from the side as the woman checks the food laid in front of her, half-expecting her to speak out when the servants arrive with a trolley for her breakfast. They aren't going to offer her anything less than the best (she has standards), but they already have their fair number of suitors who are protesting their daily meal.

Or any sort of behavior akin to a gold-digger. Yuh-jung doesn’t know what to expect, really.  

Her winced eyes went a little wide as the woman lifted a spoon and started on the meal. The way she utilizes the utensils is down to the order of each tableware—putting it down in refined movements as well—it shows her knowledge on table manner. But everyone can learn that if they want to. It’s not rocket science. 

“Mdm. Yuh-jung.” 

The caretaker almost let out a gasp out of surprise. 

“Have you had your breakfast? You seem like you’re needing one.” 

Busted. Yuh-jung kept her appointed look away from the woman and bowed a little, asking her to continue the meal.  

-- 

Some points that Yuh-jung noticed. 

She strives little in words. Irene and the patriarch's only instruction is to only keep her in the mansion for the time being. Of course the prospect of her catching Irene’s attention is not lost on them. Safe to say that this mansion is intended to find out who she is, exposing her for whatever she is and possibly kicking her off the premise. Their eyes are eagled, watching the woman stroll around the mansion, taking her time looking around. She refuse a guide and chooses to wander on her own. Yuh-jung asks one of the younger maids to keep an eye on her, and the poor maid comes back with hearts in her eyes. 

“I fell from behind and Miss Moon was carrying me on her back to the dorm.” 

“I have trouble reaching to the chandelier and Miss Moon helps clean it together. She knows exactly what to use and we did it really quickly. She advised that it will be better to ask the professionals though.” 

“Her handwriting is so nice, even I daresay better than the assigned calligrapher of Lee Mansion!” 

And all those outrageous, clichéd stories that make the caretaker shudder. It is as if what they found is next to nothing when the woman is giving out bizarre clues. Yuh-jung was about to act on it before the bell rang. 

“Miss Irene has reached the house!” 

It is mandatory for the rest of the mansion to welcome their mistress’ arrival. Forming two lines on each side, they barely hold the admiring look upon Irene stepping out of the limousine, her regal aura oozing out in all directions. Yuh-jung comes to her side without expecting a question that will come out of . “Where’s Byulyi?” 

-- 

A day hasn’t even pass and Byulyi has already come to a decision. 

She’s bored. It’s easy to get bored here. She wakes up early, putting her own clothes (rejecting the hideous blouse  upon her), finishing her meal on time and strolling through every nook and cranny that she can put her hands on, within the mansion’s observing eyes and of course, under certain headmaid, caretaker, whatever you want to call it. Her ears caught the sound of the bell. Irene must have arrived home. Byulyi was just about to head out, her hand gripping the door knob before it opened in a swing, revealing a certain heiress’s bright eyes.  

“You came back earlier—” 

Byulyi choked on her words as Irene took her in a hug, shushing her up as soon as Byulyi’s about to protest. “They are watching.” 

She knew. How could she not? The maids and butlers are keeping an eye on her all day, just like Irene’s father instructed. The contract stands on the brink of the most delicate rope; Byulyi swearing a vow doesn’t seem to be enough of a deal. They are under surveillance, and this mansion is their ground. Realizing that Irene is not going to loosen her hold anytime soon, Byulyi taps her arm lightly. “It will be nice if you can let go now.” To her dismay, Irene didn’t comply to her wish, so Byulyi walked across with difficulty and until they sat on the edge of the bed, Irene still hugged her from the side. The purple woman looks at her from the side, perplexed. 

“Have you always been this forward?” 

“A lot can change in the passing years, Miss Moon.” Her voice muffled as she buried it under Byulyi’s shirt. “I am not always the timid girl you saw eons ago.” Byulyi grab Irene’s arms and keep it away, standing in front of Irene who just keeps smiling, a little question dangling in her look. 

“Seriously, what is it?” 

“What’s what?” 

“You said you need me to help you disappear, and you can give me the button back.” 

“Of course I remember.” To Byulyi’s dismay, Irene leans backward and throws her back on the bed, pulling out a button that has been encapsulated and fashioned into a necklace that she wore now. “I even wear it anywhere. Why is it so important to you, Moon Byulyi?” 

The way Irene calls her name ignites a memory she wasn’t so fond of. “Then what do you want me to do? Showing you how to function after you escape? Taking you away from here? What is it?” 

Irene shrugged and stretched her arms forward, a gesture that Byulyi assumed wanted to be pulled to a stand. Instead, the heiress pulled her in until Byulyi fell, keeping her balance by placing arms on both sides of Irene’s head, their eyes locked. Byulyi’s about to push herself up before a hand holds her in place. “Are you that shy? After a kiss?” 

“I’m not!” 

At Irene’s tilted head Byulyi realized she’s stuttering. “I’m not.” Her answer repeated in a more calmed version. “Now please answer me. What do you want?” 

The ghost of hand trace around Byulyi’s cheek, creating a trail of shivers. “It’s the social season.” She gave a chuckle. “Will you accompany me when the time comes?” Byulyi stands up, seeing Irene extend her hand in an encouraging gesture for Byulyi to take it. Byul gave up and dragged Irene to the stand with just a frown.

“I’m finally done with my business.” The heiress shot a smile. “Care to follow me to the garden?” 

-- 

To explain the magnitude of Lee Mansion in words would be impossible. A large garden with a labyrinth and a patio sits next to a tiny woodland with a conserved environment. The view, bathed in sunlight, is reminiscent of European influence. Byulyi followed Irene, who had changed into more comfortable wear of blue t-shirt, jeans and slipper. The patio table was set with a tea set, which included a stack of cakes, biscuits, and macarons, as well as a set of porcelain cups with embossed handles. Before offering it to Byulyi, Irene pours a cup.

The chirping birds echoed through as Irene put her cup. 

“For the time being... my wish is for you to always remain at my side until the time comes for me to vanish.” She restates her argument. “However, could you tell me what this is all about?” She takes the button and raises it to Byulyi's eye level. It glistened in the rays of the late-afternoon sun. “If you're so focused on taking it away from me, why did you give it to me in the first place?”

“As you said, time passed.” Byulyi didn’t want to explain more than that; she cut her words short. “Everything has changed. I am not what I was before, and that button…” She twine Irene’s hand with hers and tugs the necklace. “It’s a manna.” 

At Irene’s confused expression she laid it down. “There’s more Wishgranters in the past, and we transferred part of us inside: It’s our body, the grail we have given to those who sought our services. You are able to find me because you have wished upon it, and something will happen. I have bound to you within a contract, until you get what your heart wants.” 

She has no idea what Byulyi is talking about. Whatever that means.  

“You’re a human, Moon Byulyi. You always are.” 

That sentence earned a snort from Byulyi, the challenging one. Are you saying it to me or to yourself? She took a stand, and within the heiress’ mild surprise, took her hand and pulled her to a stand.  

“Do you know what you want?” 

The crease turns subtly in Irene’s temple, unable to fathom. 

“I said…” 

Do you know what you want? 

Nothing else mattered as Byulyi pressed their foreheads together; her eyes dug into Irene's, dominating the back of her skull. Byulyi's retina shines gold in the heiress' peripheral vision, revealing the same pattern and spell imprinted in the button.

And she fell. 

-- 

It was a hard fall. 

Irene rubbed her bottom, feeling a slight ache after a hard fall. She puts herself to a stand and checks herself. Great, she is not . What? Around her is nothing but white. A splash of white and a banner. 

A banner of the most beautiful woman she has ever seen. 

“Mother…” 

The banner was soon ripped to pieces. As a knot formed in her stomach and twisted to a sickening effect, the pieces scattered and formed into a blank pact. 

The horrible twist was too much to bear. She caught a glimpse of the door out of the corner of her eye. Her own arms snake up to the doorknob, and her feet enter the room. Another area greets her, and she is no longer on the earth, as evidenced by the rumbling beneath her feet. As she took more steps, she proved herself true, entering the hall of lined airline seats, all of which were unoccupied. Her slippers shuffle along the velvet floor, steadiing into a run, and she lets out a gasp when she can no longer feel the ground.

It was replaced with a night bar. 

An empty night bar, with a song played from a rusty gramophone, humming a broken tune. 

Irene didn’t quite know why her breaths turned into heaves as she looked around her surroundings, adjusting her disoriented perspectives due to changing views. It feels like she was on an acid trip. Did Byulyi drug her? That’s impossible, she wouldn’t have the resources. But there was no other explanation— 

The sound of crushed glass roused her from a stupor. 

Irene closed her eyes and opened it again but there’s no mistaking it. It is snowing inside the bar. When she winced, she caught flashes of scenes played in reels. The speed was erratic and mind-numbing with confusing scenes that she tried hard to understand. 

Irene could see it clearly as she peeked from inside the closet. Through the narrow gaps, an ongoing scene of a group of girls standing in a line can be seen. Irene was unable to identify all the faces as an older woman observed them carefully, walking back and forth. 

A loud slap can be heard across, and Irene held her feet from rushing out when one of the women fell to the floor.  

“A Wishgranter is not innately evil or innately good.” 

The older woman dragged her across the floor, accounting each sentence for each slap. 

“You are concealed from the senses, even from your own. Strip yourself away.” 

Irene shut both her eyes and ears, unable to endure the noise. It was the door to another changing scene, back to the night bar. This time, it was in shambles but only one seat remains, occupied by a woman with purple hair. 

Irene's spine shivered as she looked at the scales on her arm.

Come closer. 

Irene let out a shout when an unseen force forced her through and imprisoned her in the woman's arm. Moon Byulyi's eyes gleam in curvature this time, staring back at her through the crystalline glass without blinking.

It is a stark reminder to the eyes of a serpent. 

“Remember our first kiss?” 

Irene notices herself shrinking in response to the reminder, and it's not because of the tone. Something about it entices her.

“It's as if I transferred my luck to you...” At the tight closeness, Byulyi leans forward, while Irene reflexively leans back. She can't say anything since she's genuinely tongue-tied. This was by far the craziest acid trip she'd ever had! “Let's not dither any longer; tell me what you want.” Irene's tongue was freed as she yanked her head aside, causing her to let out a deep gasp.

“What is it going to be?” 

Irene ignores the hiss in that question and blurts out her answer. 

“I want you.” She croaked, and her jovial countenance started to crack. “I want you forever. Until forever has ended. Until the end doesn’t exist anymore.” 

The beat of silence fills the air until a tap on Irene’s shoulder can be felt. A whisper flew across her ear.  

Close your eyes once again. 

-- 

Irene opened her eyes to the strangest scene, of which a familiar face surprised her to death with deep eyebags. Shouts and screams filling the entire garden with a cacophony of How does he get in and Send the securities here! 

“Suho-oppa…” 

The lovesick man mumbled and pull her into a bone-crushing hug. “Tell me it’s not true.” Irene senses a whiff of alcohol. “We do love each other aren’t we, Joohyun-ah?” 

His nails digging into her arms. The pain was— 

“Oppa, it hurts—” 

It doesn’t take long for a hand grab him by the collar and proceed to drag him by clutching his scalp. An agonizing cry can be heard as Byulyi tosses the already limp body aside and looks back at Irene.  

There are two things the heiress has noticed. 

“Irene Bae Joo-hyun.” 

With Byulyi taking step by step to reach her, her eyes have lost their gold but somehow still entrapped her in. 

“You are bound into a pact of disappearing to the ends of the world and never to be seen again.” 

The maids and butlers were transfixed in their place and there’s no room for interruption. Irene was sure they didn’t hear what Byulyi’s saying. Her steps are unrelenting, and Irene is frozen in place as a passive observer.

Byulyi takes her left hand and, in a gesture that is totally out of character, plants a kiss. 

“I am yours until the next kiss, which will be your last.” Irene’s chest fluttered when Byulyi broke a side smirk. “Until the end of your time, until you have done everything to your heart’s content.” 

Who knows that the other side of Moon Byulyi is this cheesy? Still, the flutters in her chest doesn’t mean anything. 

That's what she said.

sorry for the long gap. life happens. that and me have to recover from news of Wheein leaving RBW.

you might wonder what about Lee Soo Man's contract. that requires an explanation for another time. Well, I might go for a double update when Byulyi shifts, but we'll see.