“An ifrit?” Yejun repeated.

“I can’t give you the full history or anything, but basically I’m a human who can use magic and live longer.” Minjae explained, his voice steady, almost apologetic, as though he regretted having to reveal so much at once. He glanced down, brushing a crease from his cuff before looking back up. “It’s not exactly something I can reveal lightly, for obvious reasons, but it is why I can help you.”

“So… how old are you really?” Yejun pressed and Minjae chuckled, much to Yejun’s surprise. 

“I’m still 28. I stopped aging about three years ago, but I’m not old enough for that to be apparent,” Minjae answered, his tone soft and gentle. “I’m not some ancient immortal, if that's what you’re asking.”

“But you can use magic?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re willing to help me.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Yejun asked again, more quietly this time, as though he was afraid the word itself might shatter the fragile equilibrium between them. He hadn’t moved from his place near the counter, though his hand had eased away from the laminate edge. Without that cold anchor, he felt the tremor start up again in his wrist.

“Because it's the right thing to do.” Minjae answered, speaking matter-of-factly. “If she learns you’re investigating her, she can just lie and cover it all up. Without solid proof that she’s cheating, you don’t have an undeniable reason to end everything.”

Yejun sighed, glancing away again. He didn’t want to think that Woojin would be sleeping with his fiance, especially after how he didn’t seem to believe what Jieun was saying. But Woojin was an omega, Jieun was an alpha and she was making it seem like Yejun was treating her badly. The implication was there.

“I can also help you have a plan in case she does reveal what you did for her,” Minjae continued, causing Yejun to meet his gaze again. “If it's as bad as you make it sound, you shouldn’t have to worry about your financial future on top of everything else.”

“Since when have you cared so much about me to worry about me being disowned?” Yejun scoffed, but immediately regretted it when he saw the gentle look on Minjae’s face. 

“Because I respect you, Lim-ssi. We may not be close, but I have always respected how you handle yourself,” Minjae answered, his voice steady in a way that made Yejun feel both comforted and cornered at the same time. Yejun looked down again, studying the faint scratch on the countertop where someone must have dragged a box or a coffee machine across it. Anything to avoid the warmth he could feel rising up the back of his neck. “You know I’m an heir too. I know the weight that comes with that.”

“You respect me, but you don’t really know me,” he murmured, not quite sure if he meant it as an accusation or simply a fact.

“I don’t need to know you to know you deserve to at least be treated with respect, especially by someone you are supposed to marry.” Minjae countered and Yejun flinched, keeping his gaze lowered. “You said you don’t want to marry her. I only want to help.”

“Then what? What do you want in return?”

“I’m not offering help in exchange for anything. I work at Gye because I want to, not because I need to.” Minjae insisted, and Yejun finally looked back up. Minjae’s expression was sincere, and it made Yejun feel even worse. He took a deep breath, surprised as he finally caught a hint of the alpha’s scent. 

Cedarwood and myrrh. Calm and grounding, somehow; a soft, steady weight in the back of his mind that made the tension in his shoulders ease, just a little. He didn’t want to admit how much he needed that. He started to wonder why Minjae hadn’t bid to be his husband, but Yejun pushed that thought away. Just because Minjae was being kind didn’t mean he wanted to be with him.

On top of that Minjae was an heir in his own right: Yejun knew he was only working at Baekwon to prepare him to expand his mother's American press. Baekwon wanted to export more Korean stories and Ashfern wanted to catch them. It was preparing for a future partnership, one that marriage would challenge. Now that Yejun thought about it, Minjae did have a reason to not want Baekwon involved in controversy.

After a long moment, Yejun spoke again, his voice softer. “So what now?” 

“For now, let’s just get through the day. If you want to talk later, we can always meet at the hotel’s cafe or just simply message each other in order to talk about it. Like you said, I don’t know you that well and the more I understand the better I can help.” Minjae said carefully, choosing each word like he was laying delicate tiles into place. “We still have a week and a half until we have to head back, so there is no rush to do anything yet.”

Yejun took a deep breath, closing his eyes as if gathering the last scraps of composure that hadn’t been burned away by the past day. He wished he could pull everything back; unsay what he’d confessed, un-hear what Jieun had said, undo everything that had unraveled the life he thought he was building. But it was too late. And Minjae was standing there, so steady, as if he didn’t think Yejun was pathetic for unraveling like this in a foreign country.

When he opened his eyes again, he met Minjae’s gaze, feeling oddly exposed but also, somehow, a little less alone.

“Alright,” Yejun murmured finally, voice rough but even. “Let’s get through today.”

Minjae’s expression didn’t change, but something in the set of his shoulders relaxed. He inclined his head in a small, respectful nod. “Just send me a message if you want to meet later.”

Yejun nodded absently, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck. He realized belatedly that he’d been pressing his palm so hard against the countertop that a red mark had appeared across his skin. The absurd detail almost made him laugh. Instead, he pressed his hand flat over the mark, like he could erase it along with everything else.

He didn’t want to think about Jieun’s voice. Or Woojin’s soft, uncertain laughter in that recording. He didn’t want to think about all the things he’d sacrificed for her, all the ways he’d tried to be the kind of beta husband people would envy her for. He especially didn’t want to think about what Minjae must think of him now.

But none of that was going to disappear just because he didn’t want to see it.

“Alright. I’ll message you.”