Chapter 1

Kael leaned against the living room doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his phone loosely held in one hand. His white shirt was open at the collar, sleeves rolled to his elbows, He wasn’t looking at Mihe. Instead, his gaze was fixed on the floor-to-ceiling windows, where the city lights bled through the sheer curtains, painting the room in a restless, neon haze.

“This place has too many windows.” His voice was flat, almost bored.

Mihe stood across the room, arms folded, expression unreadable, but her foot tapping. She was still in the outfit from the board meeting their parents had forced them to attend—blouse, skirt, composure. But irritation seethed beneath the surface. “And you have too many opinions for someone who didn’t even help pick this place,” she retorted.

Kael finally looked at her, slow and deliberate, like it took effort. His eyes, half-lidded, met hers with that calm, unreadable chill. He blinked once. "Didn’t realize I was on the interior design committee for my own prison." No smirk. No mocking tone. Just bored sarcasm, like every word bored him more than the last.

Mihe’s eyes narrowed and she sighed.

A beat passed between them, heavy with tension. Kael pushed off the doorframe, slow and deliberate, like a cat stretching before it moved, arms now unfolded. He took a few steps forward—measured, calm, stopped just close enough that the air between them shifted.

The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful. It was the kind that constricted the lungs. Something was always simmering between them—something sharp, unsaid, inevitable. And it lingered now, thick and pressing, as if waiting for one of them to cut through it.

Mihe did.

Her voice, low and edged with challenge, slid yet unnervingly calm. "Why don't we sit down and pen a contract.. an agreement? The old-fashioned way. A way for us make this engagment.. a bit more tolerable? Hm?"

Kael's eyebrow rose, the smallest flash of interest on his otherwise impassive face. He slid his phone into his pocket, kept his hand buried there too, eyes drifting over her—calm, deliberate, not rushed. Like he was taking her measure, not out of curiosity, but out of a detached habit. The way someone might skim the cover of a book they never intended to read.

"A contract," Kael echoed, his voice heavy with mockery. "What are we? drama characters?" He scoffed. "Pfft."

He didn’t laugh, not really—but something tugged at the corner of his mouth. Amusement, perhaps?

"You really believe a little piece of paper will make all this any easier? We're stuck getting engaged for God's sake.

He paused, staring at her face, unsure of what he was looking for—cracks maybe. A reason to call her to account.

"Okay," he whispered, and then switching into a colder, smoother tone. "What are your conditions, 𝘔𝘪𝘩𝘦?"

The way he said her name — it's not impolite — it's slower, measured as if he was testing the shape on his tongue.

Mihe didn't shrug. "First, don't mention it to anyone at the academy. And..", her eyes narrowed a little. "Don't bring your flings in here. Take them to a motel or something".

For a second at least, something flickered across his face, too quick to name. A fleeting wonder? maybe. But it was gone in an instant buried under the sound of his exhale and that stare of his.

"The Academy?" he parried and stepped back. "You think I would engage long enough for others to find out?"

Mihe had watched him turn away as though the whole thing mattered to him no longer—but she knew he was still listening.

"And the motel clause." He nodded back over his shoulder, lower, words heavy with more violent tone. "Surprising you bring it up first."

He walks to the sleek marble kitchen counter, grabs a pen from the drawer like he’s actually going to write this down. Leaning against the counter, arms crossed again, the pen resting loosely between his fingers.

"Alright. My turn, then." His eyes flick up to hers—flat, unreadable.

"Don’t pretend in front of our parents. No fake smiles, no arm-linking. I’m not here to perform for them."

"And if you’re going to bring anyone over... let me know in advance. I don’t care what you do, but I don’t want to see it."

He gestures vaguely with the pen. "So... still want to do this, Mihe? There’s no mockery in his tone. Just that same unnerving calm.

"If you insist on keeping a record copy, be my guest", Mihe said, her voice laced with mockery. “Better than to blindly trust the words of a... 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘳." Her words lingered in the air, the weight of them settling between them like a challenge, a sharp smile curling at the corners of her lips.

Kael doesn’t react right away—just shrugs. He clicks the pen once, lazily, then begins writing in slow, almost annoyingly neat handwriting. His jaw tightens ever so slightly as he speaks, not looking up.

"Smart decision"

He turns the paper toward her, tapping the top with the pen.

"Clause One: We don’t speak of this engagement at school. To anyone."

Click.

"Clause Two: No lovers brought home. Motel, car, alley, wherever. Not here."

Click.

"Clause Three: No public displays for family. We're not actors."

Click.

"Clause Four: Inform each other about... guests."

He leans back against the counter, spinning the pen between his fingers like this is just another boring group project.

"Anything else, or do you want a notary too?" His gaze is steady on her now—not mocking, not soft. Just calm. Controlled. Like he’s watching for her next move the way one watches a game of chess.

"That should be enough for now, I don't want to waste my time involving myself further in any matters regarding a 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳." Mihe remarks casually, her voice cool, and final.

Kael's hand stilled mid spin, the pen freezing between his fingers, he looked at her with a contemplative glint in his eyes, there was no shock in his expression, no anger, just a detached gaze.

His voice cut through the air—sharp, "You're still on about that? She's dead. that's all you need to know"

For a while, he doesn't move, the air around them seems to still, heavy with something cold, something deep.

Then he pushes off the counter, walks past her with a silence that is stiffening. His shoulder brushes past hers—lightly, to remind her he's real and close.

He pauses just behind her, his voice merely above a whisper yet still carried an edge to it. "Add that to the contract too, don't bring her up again."

Without another word, he resumed walking, his white shirt catching the light as he disappeared down the hall—never once looking back, waiting for an answer.

The silence Kael leaves behind stretches long after his footsteps fade down the hall.

"Pfft.. touchy", Mihe muttered under her breath, brushing a stray hair from her cheek amused.

The contract still sat atop the counter, she turns her attention to it, eyes skimming over the clauses before she grabbed the pen and adds the fifth one finishing off with her signature at the bottom, satisifed.