When Hongjoong got ready for the next party he had to attend with Seonghwa, he found himself at a loss for what to wear. Last time, he had donned the ridiculous dress that Yeosang - the bastard - had dumped on him. Hongjoong's closet held similar ones, and he could discern the noble soiree ones from the casual tea dresses, but he was stumped concerning matching with Seonghwa or piecing together certain items. He had never scrutinised women's fashion enough to be knowledgeable about it.

He pondered talking to Seonghwa after all. Today, the earl had accepted Hongjoong's silent anger at breakfast and lunch. Despite the constant devious smirk curling around the corners of his lips, he had held his tongue to eat in blissful silence. Now that it came to going out, and they needed to coordinate their masquerade, Hongjoong suspected Seonghwa anticipated lecturing Hongjoong.

Stubbornly, Hongjoong picked his dress out himself. He chose the same shoes as last time, even if he also had a grey pair made of soft leather, but he didn't trust their heel yet. He put on the white ruffled pants that reached until his knees as undergarments and added the underskirt that would give his childish dresses their volume. Once again, he found himself stumped. The blue one? But it looked to be better for travels than for long sitting. The green one? The matching corset had Hongjoong's lungs and ribs protest with sobs and pleas.

Hongjoong considered going for the yellow one again and just stretched out his hand when a subtle knock on his door drew his attention. Nobody spoke, and a moment later, a set of feet walked off.

Perplexed, Hongjoong peered at the door as if it would magically tell him what the sudden visit had been about. He slipped into a white blouse that would be indecent to be seen in for how much cleavage it exposed, but enough to cover most as Hongjoong opened the door. With one arm held across his chest apprehensively, he looked around.

On the ground laid a flower.

Wary as if it might bite, Hongjoong picked it up. It was a Petunia, one of the few flowers Hongjoong could name since they grew on wild bushes with delight. Five leaves fanned around the mid and darkened until near blackness the further they reached towards it. The outer ring of the flowers blended into a light pink that blushed over the upper corner to darken into violet.

It was a pretty flower, and Hongjoong eyed it curiously as he took it inside his room. Had Seonghwa left it? No, he had no reason to; they were resentful at each other for insulting the other's entire existence. But who else had reason to bring a flower to Hongjoong's room and left without a word? Jongho would have explained himself for sure.

Wondering, Hongjoong set the flower down on his vanity and returned to his closet. His eyes got stuck on a dress that had the same colour as the brightest pink of the Petunia.

With a hum, Hongjoong pulled the garment out of the closet. It was more modest than the yellow one, but the design was similar. It had white accents and sleeves that bowed cutely around the cascading fabric. Instead of an extra corset, the white laces were part of the dress and tied in the back.

It wasn't too horrible. The shade of pink reminded Hongjoong of blueberries when squashed, so he didn't find it too obnoxious.

How old would Seonghwa's peers guess Hongjoong was? Fifteen? Fourteen? A big age gap looked just as bad as an affair in Hongjoong's eyes.

Hongjoong got dressed and adjusted his hair before he called for Emily. The woman sprinted up the stairs with her skirts in her hands, ready to help.

Perhaps Hongjoong could have found a complicated method to use the bedposts as resistance to draw the corset tight, but he found that refusing female help to get dressed made him look more suspicious.

"Mylady, you look beautiful! I adore this dress on you! Here, sit down and pick your jewellery while I tie your corset!" Emily ushered Hongjoong to sit on his stool in front of the vanity. His pale face framed by pretty hair and pretty clothes looked foreign to him. Like a doll, he dressed himself up for Seonghwa's pleasure.

"Thanks," Hongjoong croaked, to avoid an awkward silence. Emily's fingers slipped through the laces with patient practice while Hongjoong dabbed some lavender lotion on his wrists for the smell. Afterwards, he brushed his hair more times than necessary while Emily worked.

"The earl brought me a flower," Hongjoong said out of the blue to make his bewilderment clear. Curious, Emily peered over Hongjoong's shoulder. The way her strong hands drew the strings taut choked Hongjoong in the middle of his breath.

"Oh? I don't see those around the house often." Her surprise increased Hongjoong's apprehension. Was this a scheme? Or did Seonghwa already slip back into the role of a gentleman as if he wasn't hiding a wolf under his perfect facade?

"Perhaps he intended for me to wear it?" Hesitantly, Hongjoong peered at his assortment of hats and other hair accessories in his closet. The dress had a matching ribbon for his hair updo. Should he weave the flower in? Something natural would lighten the artificial mood of the parties.

"Let's not. I can put it in a vase for you instead if you'd like?"

Wary at the abrupt refusal, Hongjoong set the flower down.

"No. I will just leave it to wilt on the windowsill."

Emily snickered and finished with the corset. Straight as a stick, Hongjoong sat in front of her while she worked out his hair. Thankfully, her treading fingers were gentle enough to not have the wig slip.

"Jongho told us of your fight with him. It seemed to have been quite serious. Did he insult you?"

"He did. So I insulted him back," Hongjoong grunted under his breath. Emily's pearly laughter eased his grumpiness, that had returned at the mention of Seonghwa.

"Sometimes, I believe he is terrified of having friends and pushes everyone off so desperately because of that. Then I remember he is indeed the unpleasant man he appears to be." She shook her head as she fetched the ribbon for Hongjoong. Curious, Hongjoong watched her work through the mirror.

"Isn't anyone around to teach him manners? Parents, or a potential proper wife, perhaps?"

Emily sighed heavily.

"Not in the way needed to help, no. I believe the people surrounding him spur him on, since their hearts are just as vile. To defend himself against their attacks, he returns the same tenfold. He is usually easy to deal with if you duck your head and just do what he says." She worded it like an offer Hongjoong could not reject. He huffed.

"As if. I'm not his dog to kick around."

"Of course not, mylady," Emily smiled, but she fell quiet after that. Once they were done, she complimented Hongjoong once more for his looks before she hurried outside for yet another task to accomplish.

Hongjoong left the flower where it was as he went downstairs. Seonghwa stood at the open entrance door and talked to the same coacher as last time. The earl already donned his coat and hat and looked up under the rim when Hongjoong appeared.

"Ah, there you are. Have you calmed from your hysteria?"

Hongjoong didn't even glance at him as he reached for his coat. The baffled coacher opened the door further for Hongjoong to step out first when Seonghwa lingered in stunned silence. A moment after, he followed with a huff while Hongjoong climbed into the carriage.

During the ride, Hongjoong looked out of the left window as the city neared. Seonghwa looked out of the right one. They spent most of their time in silence, but Seonghwa spoke up by the time the clop of the hooves outside had turned from dull earth to echoing on the pavement.

"I hope you know to behave yourself and stick to your promise despite your anger. A few of my business partners will be present tonight, so I expect you to be on your best behaviour."

Hongjoong exhaled. The velvety voice of the other bothered him. With its pretentious tone, it sounded like the obnoxious chattering of a goose in Hongjoong's ears.

"What do you want me to do? It's not as if I get included much as a woman," he spat the last word, hateful for how Seonghwa regarded it with such inferiority.

"Dance with me when asked. You are probably not familiar with the steps, but that comes in our favour. I want you to submit to my lead and to look as if you have our greatest fun while you do. Will you be able to do that?"

Hongjoong gave him a thin smile.

"I have no other option, do I, earl?"

Seonghwa leaned back in his seat and played with the rim of his hat.

"I suppose you don't."

They bundled into silence again as Hongjoong brooded by himself. The ride to the party ended far too soon, and Hongjoong was bitter to leave the private carriage behind. Once more, the two males entered a foreign building to shed their cloaks and to mingle with the other smiling faces.

Hongjoong considered getting drunk on the buffet while he stood at Seonghwa's side, bored out of his mind. The only people addressing him were women, and most of them interrogated him about Hongjoong's feelings for Seonghwa or about the rumour. He brushed the questions off as politely as possible, and most often, Seonghwa jumped in to regain control of the situation. He blabbered about marriage plans, about Hongjoong's fragile health, about the journey to France they once went on together, and so on.

Before Hongjoong could sneak off to numb himself with alcohol, the owner of the party called everyone's attention to the ball. All couples were invited to join, and the other guests may either pair spontaneously or watch on to frolic about the dancers.

Hongjoong blushed when Seonghwa grasped his hand to lead him into the clearing amidst the room. The group they had talked to earlier applauded the young couple.

With charming patience, Seonghwa picked up Hongjoong's hand in his and drew him in by his waist. So close together, Hongjoong's skirts brushed Seonghwa's legs to keep a safe distance between their bodies.

"Your hand on my shoulder," Seonghwa whispered under his breath when Hongjoong hesitated. His white glove settled on Seonghwa's body. The press of his fingers on the man's jacket was cramped enough to have Seonghwa purse his lips, but he didn't comment on it.

When the music set in, Seonghwa took the first step. The dance was far easier than Hongjoong expected; it went in a rectangle all the time. Soon, Hongjoong relaxed into it. He couldn't enjoy the swishing of his skirts around his legs, but he enjoyed the rush of the music and the euphoria of the dance. If he had done the same in the slums, he might have laughed to express his ease and weightlessness, but that wasn't appropriate here.

The music suddenly came to a peak and on time, every male dancer's hands reached for the waists of their female counterparts. Terrified, Hongjoong clutched onto Seonghwa when he was lifted off the ground and twirled for half a second before he came back down with an elegant swish of his dress.

Hongjoong was sure he squeaked in terror, but it drowned in the room's noise.

When the floor touched his feet again and he got reminded of his heels, he lost balance. Seonghwa supported him by pulling him against his steady body for a split moment. As soon as Hongjoong regained his footing in the continuing dance, Seonghwa regained custom distance.

With gigantic eyes, Hongjoong looked up at Seonghwa. The smile on the man's lips looked less malicious than before. His amusement about Hongjoong's surprise was genuine.

"Are you fine?" Seonghwa muttered between the two of them. Hongjoong got overwhelmed with dancing and talking at the same time. His body was still wired from the unforeseen lift.

"Just startled," Hongjoong admitted.

Seonghwa leaned in until he could speak in Hongjoong's ear. Hongjoong's heart skipped a beat when the man was so close once more, and this time it wasn't to mock.

"You're doing terrific. Trust me. Once we tire, we have an excuse to leave."

Hongjoong wanted to reply but got stunned into silence when Seonghwa's lips pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. Outrageous in this society, where a kiss between a couple in public meant irresistible desires.

Since they were amid a dance, nobody cared and it got excused by their immature love.

Hongjoong couldn't stop thinking about it.