There she is. The tiara of the Duchess of Westburgh. It is a combination of natural pearl drops, tiny pearls and diamonds—unique among the gemstone-encrusted ones that are in fashion in this world. The duke brought it out of the family vault for me to wear to the Imperial Ball tonight. 

"You are the only lady of Westburgh, angel, and tonight is an important evening for the family," he explains. I was hesitant at first. Unmarried ladies don't really wear tiaras to state occasions, leaving the honor only to the wives. "Your mother would've been very proud to see you in it."

I have spent the entire day getting ready. After a series of fittings, Madame Antoinette's silky drapery goodness arrived last night and it looks even better when worn than on the dress form. The sheen of the fabric made my skin appear even more milkier, even after all the scrubbing and massaging and moisturizing my entire body was subject to hours ago. Madame Antoinette paired the dress with long, lace gloves woven out of silver threads; the result is so fine and see-through that you can see my long oval nails through it, embellished with rows of small natural pearls, tracing my fingers. 

I should've probably called for a team of experts, but given the occasion, they're probably fully booked. Besides, I always liked doing my own makeup. I created a luminous look with finely crushed pearl powder on my lids and the high points of my face—like what we call highlighter in the real world. I also dotted some pearl powder on my barely tinted lips. I accentuated my lashes with a burnt wooden stick’s soot and heat. Famous salons in Seoul, Korea still do this! As the finishing touch, I added glitter close to my tear ducts.

While I did my makeup, I instructed the maids to sweep my hip-length hair into a wavy updo and to dot it with even more round natural pearl clips and diamond clips. And then it's time to put on the tiara and they were all gasping in excitement. 

We've been putting off wearing the gown for a while now. On me, it's uncomfortable. For the maids, it's tedious, whether it's hooks or lace-ups. But it's finally time. I step into it while the maids do the work. The off-shoulder boned corset bodice boosts my bosom to hourglass proportions, while the sumptuous drapery in all the right places enhances the illusion, tapering dramatically to my cinched waist.

But the maids were having trouble securing the hooks. 

A maid had a lightbulb moment. “Kalel was present during the fittings. He saw how it was done. He’s so good at everything, if there’s anyone that could do it, it’s him!”

My shoulders tensed up. We still haven't talked things through when we went to the capital together for my fitting. It was very straightforward, we were in and out of Madame Antoinette's atelier in minutes. Throughout the unbearably silent carriage ride, I kept looking out the window thinking how nice it would be to stop by a cafe, to sample the newest desserts. But I was so ashamed of myself, and him acting like nothing happened wasn't really good acting. I'm so sure he read the book and no longer sees me the same way. He was awkward too and it makes things worse. 

Another chided, “We have no choice, miss.”

Moments later, Kalel comes walking in. His hair is tightly pulled back, his posture rod-straight. Our eyes met. I took a deep breath. I turn to the maids and ordered, “Please leave us alone.” I saw them exchange glances, but they quickly dispersed.

It was now just Kalel and me. “You needed my help, my lady?”

“Do you like it?” I prodded.

He looked up and his lips opened. I saw a twinkle in his beautiful ruby eyes. I know I look good. But of course, he denied it. “What’s important is if you like it, my lady.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

We were silent for a while. He gave in, finally. “I have been impertinent, my lady. I apologize.”

I turned around, signaling him to hook up the entire back of my dress.

He spoke from behind me, "I didn't believe it was possible for you to be even more beautiful."

I didn't say anything. 

“A maid would do a better job at this,” he protested.

“But they already couldn’t."

Exposed, my back felt cold. But I could it feel it warm up gradually as he approached. I can smell Kalel now. Soap with a hint of freshly-cut grass. It takes me back to our coffee breaks together. Under the tree, when I taught him how to eat a peach. Our weeks apart felt like eternity. I close my eyes, savoring his scent that I missed.

“I really shouldn’t…” he mumbled.

I was acutely aware of his body heat behind me. He's a head taller than me and I know that behind my head is his firm chest, his strong shoulders and arms... I can feel his gaze on my bare skin, his large hands hovering over it. With my hair up, I could feel his warm breath from his lowered head on my nape. It’s electrifying for him to be so close, but I can't see the look on his face. 

I tried to focus my attention elsewhere and look out the window, to the setting sun in the horizon. The golden hue of the sky has turned to deep orange. The manicured tree branches sway peacefully. What a beautiful world this is, and the man that I love is right behind me but I can’t even tell him.

The air is thick with tension and I try to break it. "Kalel, I would like to take this opportunity to apologize if I had made you feel awkward..."

I heard him swallow. The sound of fine cotton shifting—it’s the sound of his gloves coming off. The hooks are so small, they have to be fastened with bare hands.

His hands began to move, hooking up the back of the dress from the bottom of the corset. The back of his fingers slowly brush upon the small of my back, almost caressing my skin. I felt his fingers linger.

"I'm the one who has committed a grave sin," he whispers. "And I might sin again."

I throw my head back and close my eyes. I want to feel it all. I bite my lips. I am aware of his every breath, his every move. I heard him open his wet mouth and felt his hot exhale on my neck. My heart is beating so fast that I wonder if he can hear it thump with all this deafening silence.

There is a bit of a struggle on the top part, as Madame Antoinette wanted to make it tight to accentuate my décolletage with an ample cleavage over a balconette neckline. Kalel’s warm breath on my nape became rougher. He had to come closer, pull and squeeze me into the corset, and I felt something lightly poke my skirt…

I lost my mind and risked it all. “Touch me,” I am nearly out of breath. "Would you like to touch me?"

His breathing stopped. I must’ve caught him off guard by being so forward.

Silence. I immediately regret what I said.

I cleared my throat. My voice shakes. “I mean, it would be easier to squeeze me in and hook it close. It’s fine, really…”

With a deep voice, sounding a lot closer to my ear this time, he replied, “That won’t be necessary.”

Warm, soft, moist flesh pressed on the back of my neck. My body tensed up.

It's his lips. Kalel is kissing my bare nape. My mind is in complete shock while my body is reeling from the ticklish sensation that a moan involuntarily escaped my lips. I grab my skirt and squeeze the silky cloth. If I don't hold myself down, I might float away.

My reaction encourages him. My senses are heightened as he deeply presses his lips on my skin, as if savoring it. His large hands grip my waist in place as his long, graceful fingers press me firmly. My body aches for him to to keep going. I want to kiss him back too, on his lips, on his skin, throughout his body...

His lips trail lower. He gave the nook of my shoulder one more gentle kiss before he finally withdrew.

And time started moving again. We’re master and servant again, and with one quick pull of the corset, he finished hooking it all up.

I quickly turn and face him. I manage to breathe out his name. I want to know why he just did what he did.

But he's already walking away in haste, avoiding my eyes, not even waiting for my dismissal, not even waiting to reach the door to announce his departure. “I’ll take my leave.”