CHAPTER 19
“So don’t ever say things like that again, even as a joke.”
“……”
Marthisha gently brushed Khalif’s cheek.
Feeling her touch, he thought,
he didn’t really know what a mother was,
but a mother’s hand probably felt like this.
“Your face feels rough.”
After lightly patting his cheek, Marthisha turned her gaze toward the mansion.
“What a lovely child.”
Following her eyes, Khalif saw Meyna sitting inside the large glass window.
Relatives gathered cozily around the fireplace.
There she was, in the center of them all, laughing so hard her shoulders shook, her eyes folding into thin crescents.
“Yeah.”
Khalif’s feelings turned complicated.
Meyna Winslet.
A colleague who was like an extension of himself.
A capable aide.
And someone who had become like family.
His heart felt full and content, yet an odd ache stirred somewhere deep inside.
Meyna Winslet. Meyna…
She was not a woman to him, but a colleague.
A family member.
And in the moment he reminded himself of that,
a strange, nameless pain spread through his chest.
***
It was the second day of their break.
Khalif and Meyna spent the day visiting different relatives.
Meyna went out to the festival with her aunts and cousins, enjoying tea and snacks.
Khalif, on the other hand, went fishing by the river with his uncle and elder relatives.
That evening was the highlight of the festival — the grand ball.
“Should I tie your hair up high?”
Her youngest aunt, Diete, clung to Meyna as if playing with a doll.
Tonight, Meyna wore a crimson chiffon dress and soft, rosy makeup.
“Sure.”
She smiled and nodded, not minding either way.
“Perfect!”
Diete’s eyes sparkled as she gathered up Meyna’s long hair.
“Hmm. Here it is.”
Humming, she rummaged through the vanity drawers and pulled out a pearl-studded pin, fixing Meyna’s hair in place.
When Meyna was ready, she and Diete stepped out into the garden.
Khalif was already waiting, leaning slightly to one side.
“I’m sorry. Did I keep you long?”
“……”
Meyna asked with concern, but he didn’t answer.
He only gave her a quick, casual look from head to toe before saying,
“Let’s go.”
“Meyna, how about taking off your glasses?”
Diete suddenly suggested.
“No, Auntie. I’ll just go like this.”
“That’s not allowed.”
Their answers came out in unison — Meyna and Khalif both speaking at once.
“Eh?”
Diete blinked, confused, staring at Khalif.
He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“I mean, not not allowed—just, you know, she looks fine as she is.”
?
Among the seven or eight relatives gathered in the garden, not a single one seemed satisfied with that explanation.
“I’ll be back,” Meyna said, bowing politely with her usual calm expression.
***
They didn’t know exactly where the ball was being held.
But that didn’t matter.
All they had to do was follow the sound of music.
“Wow…”
Meyna whispered in awe.
Crystal chandeliers glittered from the ceiling.
Pink velvet curtains framed the walls.
Marble floors gleamed beneath hundreds of golden candelabras.
The grand ballroom was a dreamlike scene of elegance.
But among all those people, one man stood out unmistakably.
“How tall is he? Ten heads high?”
“At least fifteen.”
It was Khalif, dressed in a light gray suit jacket.
He had protested earlier, saying bright colors didn’t suit him — but the truth was, he looked better in them than in black.
Under the glittering lights, moving across the hall, he looked like a walking sculpture.
“Did you make your dress from those curtains?”
While everyone else’s eyes lingered on him, Khalif was teasing Meyna casually, holding a champagne glass in one hand.
“Huh?”
When she didn’t respond, he tried again, grinning.
“Come on, admit it.”
“Of course not.”
Meyna rolled her eyes, taking the glass he handed her.
The drink smelled of oranges — light, refreshing, and barely alcoholic.
“Now that you’ve had a sip, how about a dance?”
Khalif looked around with a playful smile.
“Everyone seems to be having fun except us.”
As he said, nearly every pair on the floor was dancing together.
Just then, the music paused, and a ripple of applause followed.
Khalif bent down slightly, lowering himself to her height, and extended his hand.
“Would you do me the honor of this dance, Lady Winslet?”
Meyna smiled faintly and placed her hand in his.
The waltz began to play.
Khalif wasn’t someone who enjoyed dancing, but he had learned it out of necessity.
As a noble, such things were expected.
Meyna, too, had learned it since childhood, and her body remembered every graceful step.
Khalif moved with ease, guiding her across the floor.
“You’ve got something on your lips.”
His breath brushed against her forehead.
“……”
“Peach makeup, huh?”
“Pfft.”
He was imitating the makeup artist from the magazine company word for word.
Meyna lowered her gaze, smiling faintly.
Through her silver-rimmed glasses, her long lashes cast crescent-shaped shadows over her cheeks.
The two moved fluidly, gracefully — like water flowing in time with the music.
Eyes around the room began to turn toward them.
They didn’t seem to notice, but anyone watching could tell — they didn’t look like a commander and his subordinate.
They looked like a young couple in love.
“Are they dating?” someone whispered.
Meyna’s ears flushed red.
Khalif only smiled, pleased.
“Who’s spreading nonsense like that again?”
He said the opposite of what he felt — one of his ten billion bad habits.
“Maybe they’re right,” Meyna murmured in her calm voice.
The waltz ended.
Partners bowed to one another, and soft applause filled the hall.
A few people even shouted bravo! at the pair.
“Haha.”
Khalif, the unshakable showman, waved a hand in acknowledgment.
He’s insane! This is so embarrassing!
Meyna’s face turned crimson.
The next song began — livelier, faster, and familiar to her ears.
It was the traditional dance of La Rundel Town, where partners switched as the song went on.
“Oh! What an honor to dance with Lady Winslet!”
“My beautiful lady, may I have this dance—?”
But before any gentleman could finish their offer, they all stepped back.
Khalif stood beside her like a stone pillar, refusing to move an inch.
Worse, he glared at each man who approached with a look fierce enough to kill.
Soon, the two were left completely alone in a sea of dancers.
“Please don’t make me look so ridiculous,” Meyna whispered through clenched teeth.
“What?”
“Everyone’s scared of you!”
“What?”
“Sir Lennox!” she hissed.
Khalif only looked more puzzled and kept on dancing.
***
The ballroom sparkled with lights and laughter, music and wine.
Then, suddenly — something round rolled across the marble floor.
It was so unexpected that everyone froze.
“What’s that—huh? Aaaahhhhhh!”
A blond man in a white suit screamed.
“What happened?”
“What rolled over?”
“Is it a ball?”
“Looks like a melon!”
Whispers spread like waves across the room.
Then a woman shrieked, her voice slicing through the air.
“KYAAAAAA!”
Panic exploded. People began to run in every direction.
The music cut off abruptly.
“Stay calm.”
Khalif was the first to steady Meyna and step forward to assess the situation.
She followed cautiously behind him.
“……!”
When she finally saw what had rolled to their feet, her entire body froze.
It wasn’t a ball or a melon.
It was someone’s severed head.
