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braemjeorn · 1 year

Text

CHAPTER VIII [masterlist]

pairing: bang chan x ofc

genre: general audience, wholesome summery fluff; regency period drama

wordcount: 4k

summary: improvements of a household

warnings: regency era setting; countryside; countryside estate; and their tenants, peachs; and laughter of a fond dad

also available in ao3, if you prefer that format

⚠️ All characters that shares the name of real life person in this story are represented in a fictional manner for entertainment purpose, and not to be alluded with real life.

TAGLIST: @spookykryptoniteperson @nixtape-foryou @do-you-know-what-else-is-big

Commodore Bang maintained all manners of acquaintances — most of his friends among them stood as godparents to his sons. Mari did not catch many names, except that Mr Bambam was Changbin’s, while Minho’s were his uncle on his mother’s side and Commodore Bang’s sister. Seungmin’s godfather was away on a tour across the sea, but the Commodore received gifts from his butler. That, and many other parcels from their father, was the highlight of the day after for the boys.

“Miss Son, look!”

“Do you like it?”

There were wooden and lead soldier figures, books, pencils and papers for each boy; a pendant of glass dove for Hyunjin; and a silver pen for the eldest two. Lady Jang gave them each a handkerchief. Changbin received a new book and bookends from Mr Bambam, on the occasion of his birthday. Minho was twirling his pen; he had been quiet since the Commodore assembled them all into the drawing room to share his gifts. Among the hum and excitement of his brothers, suddenly he remarked, “You never gave us gifts before.”

The Commodore's face mellowed as regarded his son. It was easing how he took care to let some warmth break through his cold and austere shield. “I wanted to,” he said.

The eldest was hardly mollified by this change. Nearing midday they still revelled in the gifts, but Minho set his pen on the table and muttered to Mari that he needed to see his cats in the barn.

“But lunchtime is approaching,” she said.

“I’ll return soon.”

Minho’s chair remained untouched through lunch. The footman sent to fetch him returned to inform the Commodore that his son refused to attend. Between Lady Jang and Mr Bambam's witty conversation, Mari fidgeted as she heard the two. She was rising to excuse herself and see the boy, but Commodore Bang's voice paused her, “I will seek him, Miss Son. Do not fret yourself, and please enjoy the custard.”

“He must not miss his meal," Mari insisted as he passed her. "It won't do for his health."

Commodore Bang hummed. He wiped his mouth and took a sip of water, then rose and walked to the end of the table. “Then I shall seek him now—do sit down, Miss Son, let me. Lee Hongjin, tell the kitchen I should like a slice of pie.”

“Of course, Commodore,” the footman bowed and rushed out of the dining hall.

“ Bambam, you will entertain our guests for a moment?”

Mr Bambam sighed, “If needs be so.”

“Then you boys mind Miss Son.” Commodore Bang turned to Mari, “And I’ll leave you in charge of them to go about their day. And Lady Nayoung…” The Baroness, who occupied the table’s end at Mari’s right, gave him her hand, which the Commodore bowed over.

“You must excuse my company for some moment. I have to make an understanding with my son,” he said. “One which has been too long postponed.”

“I suppose I can spare your society to hasten it,” responded the Lady. Commodore Bang grasped her hand and left the hall. Mari did not see him again until she stepped out into the terrace in the late afternoon. Minho walked with his father, appearing from the bushes that surrounded the kitchen's garden. The boy caught sight of her, turned to his father, and his steps picked up into a jog towards her. Mari extended her hand, yet surprised when he circled his arms close about her. If she questioned it he will evade her, so she rested her hand upon his hair. “I hope another time you escape the company I will not find you in a worse state of illness.”

Minho let out a small chuckle, and then he pulled away to regard her.

“You must be knighted by the king, Miss Son,” he said.

Mari scoffed. “What nonsense is that?”

“For doing something I thought impossible,” the lad continued. Mari noticed that he was flushed, but he was already moving towards the house before she could fuss over it. “You truly are heaven’s intervention!”

“How very eloquent of you,” Mari drawled in confusion. Minho grinned, shrugged, and rushed in, leaving her standing there. The Commodore came up after him and nodded when she acknowledged him.

“It ended well, sir? The... understanding?” Mari inquired.

Commodore Bang smiled. “Better than I dared hoped.”

Mari would not pry further than that. “I’m glad.” She was about to turn away if not the sight of him tickled her mischief. “See, it’s not so difficult.”

Commodore Bang’s head snapped towards her, a frown marring his brows. “Pardon?”

“Smiling,” she pointed out.

“Oh.” Understanding had eased his feature, but soon his lips quirked up again and a chuckle broke through. Mari smiled, turning to follow Minho.

“I had feared you would not know a joke, sir,” she hummed.

“You thought so little of me?”

One afternoon, Mari and the boys set out of the house for their walk. While inquiring her about the day’s destination — that they might run ahead, Seungmin caught their father following them. Commodore Bang had a hat and gloves ready on his hand, waving back to his boys.

“Any particular destination to choose?” he asked. Mari was still tying up her bonnet, and they looked at her for the answer. But Commodore Bang spoke again before she could reply.

“If you don't mind me joining, would you like to pick peaches?”

While appealing, it was a novel offer; they turned to him with big wondering eyes.

“Where?” Yongbok asked.

Commodore Bang set his hat on firmly, pointing away to the south and began to describe the route to his tenant’s land. They agreed on the new destination, then skipped around the pathway and headed out of the garden.

“Miss Son, you are coming along?” Commodore Bang called.

“If you don’t mind, sir,” Mari replied, more surprised than the boys by his involvement.

“Why should I—you are the one who proposed this idea in the first place.” She came down the stairs, and he added, "And I hope you will have mercy to not leave me alone in the company of these rascals.”

The boys and Mari knew the path, but now they took a turn to the left where they had usually walked ahead. Trees made an arch over their path. They passed a few stone walls, and the grassy lawns inside them, until they gave way to branches laden with round fruits. The boys exclaimed in awe, and the Commodore directed them to an opening of the orchard. They walked among the trees to reach the other side. Mari saw the main house at a distance from the orchard, and standing there was a middle-aged man. His thick brows lifted in surprise at seeing the children's appearance, but they curved warmly with his smile as he took notice of the Commodore.

"My goodness ‘tis Lord Bang. I nearly thought you were an intruder. How do you do?" They shook hands. "A pleasure to have you at my fields, sir, a pleasure—though unexpected—I'm glad to see you well. My, isn’t it a beautiful day! And the young masters! How do you do?" He tipped his hat to them, then to Mari. "I saw all seven of them walking with our Miss Governess here a few days ago, and thought, worlds! They're doing very well are they not!? Trampling around the fields and climbing up the hills, it’s good to know that they enjoy our humble grounds. And you seem to be getting along well with the young lady, that’s delightful. It's a good blessing that everyone in the house is happy and healthy.”

“Indeed it is. Though, Miss Son may take all the credit for perpetuating it,” the Commodore said.

Mari sighed, “Commodore…—”

“For as you know, Mr Byun, I have been far too often away in town to do any good,” Commodore bang easily interjected.

“I will take no grudge for that sir—let’s not mind that,” Farmer Byun shook his hand again. “We all know you were having a hard time, and all that is important is that I am seeing you well and smiling with my own eyes. And that’s very good itself!”

Commodore Bang nodded to the statement; he asked the farmer about his crops and the upcoming harvest. The boys were wandering off and looking about. Mari counted their heads and found the twins standing a bit behind them, near a tree. One of the branches was low enough, with fruits close to their reach. Their heads were together in a whisper, and Jisung raised his finger, giving the lightest poke to the peach. It barely shook the fruit. He grinned, Yongbok did the same, and Mari walked towards them as they snickered.

“Jisung, Yongbok-ah…”

The twins turned their heads to look up at her. “Miss Son, they’re very pretty,” Yongbok declared.

“Fuzzy aren’t they?” Mari smiled. “Take care when you touch them, they might fall.”

“Will they?” Jisung asked.

“Peaches fall to the ground when they’re ripe. Heavy as they are.”

The boy hummed and returned to admiring the fruit. His hand brushed over his nose and pronounced his sudden wish to eat it.

“So do I,” Yongbok seconded.

Abruptly, Hyunjin and Seungmin rushed past them deeper into the orchard; they heard Mr Byun’s called out, “Will the young masters have some then?”

Commodore Bang approached and handed Yongbok a large wicker basket.

“We’ll have this much, and no more until harvest, pups. So share the space with your brothers,” he instructed.

“We may pick them ourselves?” Yongbok asked.

“Like this?” Jisung had reached for the fruit he touched earlier and pulled at it.

“Give it a little twist, Jisung,” said the Commodore. “Better than just pulling it. There!”

Mari urged them to their brothers, and with many pairs of hands picking, it didn’t take long for the basket to fill up. Commodore Bang lifted Jeongin into his arms, and let the youngest pick a peach at a higher place. It pleased the baby very much, and he was content to hold the fruit in his hand. They bid Mr Byun goodbye, with the Commodore promising to come back during the harvest. They stopped by a stream and sat on the rocks. Jeongin handed his father the fruit. After letting the water rinse it, he pulled out his pocket knife, then peeled and cut up the fruit into pieces.

“Here, have a taste,” he said, letting them all pick a piece, even reaching far that Mari might take a piece over four heads. The sweet juice bursting into her mouth engrossed her pleasure, eliciting her praise for Farmer Byun's care. They all shared two peaches, though Hyunjin dropped his cut with a yelp.

“Hyunjin, you silly boy,” Minho sighed. That was all he was scolded with; other than the giggles from his younger brothers.

“I’m sorry,” the chastised younger murmured.

“Don’t you worry, the worms and birds will delight in it,” Commodore Bang consoled, offering another cut. “Anybody wants more?”

“But Appa hadn’t even had any!” Changbin exclaimed.

It was beyond Mari’s grasp how the days after unfolded. One day Jisung paused to start his reading before the class; then crossed the room to shove his father out into the hallway. The Commodore had been watching the boys' studying unnoticed and laughed through Jisung's eviction. While Mari was mortified by the sudden visit, Jisung whined that his father was "most embarrassing!”

Commodore Bang accompanied Lady Jang to tour the country in the afternoons or make calls with the other gentries. In the evenings they would leave for dinner or parties. But between those hours when he was not occupied by such engagements or his duties, he was among the boys. In the gardens as they water the sprouts for their morning, and make arrangements for the plant’s future with Mr Park. The afternoon after naps was now dedicated to kites or bowl pins. The walks in between were for him to indulge in climbing trees or searching for birds and insects in the meadows.

Mari could sit easy as they play in the garden, or join them in their walks. But she delighted the most (and was in great awe) to notice the Commodore's frequency in involving himself in some of the boy’s occupations, and how easily the boys pull him into their amusements. He was a good sport to their youthful humour, amiable in the face of their teasings—for he never could stop himself from laughing at their sharp wit. His sternness was only present when an action might bring a possible injury, or when banters were on the descent to sharp animosity. To that, he proved Mari’s words true in managing to make them attend to his words. The boys respected him and he always made an effort to consider all sensible reasons to resolve their feuds and settle back into harmony. With the trouble forgotten, they return to boyish romps and he laughed at them.

Commodore Bang was in every sense of the word, a devoted father. Ever since that particular morning with Mari, 'twas as if a burden lifted off him, all restraints unbounded. He took great liberty to lavish them all in nurturing care and attention, for they would baulk at his blatant loving gesture. Another by way of his time and presence. Yet for all of Mari's delight, it was soon countered by some worry.

It was one morning when Mari had roused early, as she was wont to at times. She wrapped herself in her robes and sat on her table to do her letters and journal. Some shuffling outside, and a knock at the boys’ door disturbed her. She heard it open, and murmurs of low conversation. For a long while she listened, then wrapped the robe tighter about herself to look outside. Minho and Changbin were awake, well dressed in their trousers and jacket. The younger grinned at the sight of her, bidding good morning and receiving a low perplexed one in return. The child approached, and whispered, with constrained excitement, “Appa is taking us riding!”

“Before breakfast?” Mari wondered. Minho nodded, and giggled at her confusion, despite his sleep-ridden face.

“Don’t you worry and think that they might have escaped,” Commodore Bang said. “We will only be away for an hour.”

“But so early?” Mari said. “Commodore Bang, do you not sleep?”

She knew full well that he had attended a party last night with Lady Jang and Mr Bambam; he might have returned a mere two or three hours before. But the Commodore tilted his head, and said, “I shall after breakfast.”

His eyes were alert, she'd take assurance in that. She still could not help but press her lips, and spoke again, “Do take care of your health, sir.”

“As you wish, Miss Son.” He nodded his head to her and called the boys out down the hallway.

They returned to the small breakfast party, in high spirits and ravenous appetites, much to the younger ones' envy. Commodore Bang hushed them and made a firm promise — despite Yongbok's wide, pleading eyes — that only when they turned ten, they might come down the stable with him.

“Minho’s lessons are long overdue — I apologise for that, son,” he said. “But then there's better steadiness in you already.”

“I suppose so,” Minho replied, after a silent contemplation. He then declared louder, “But didn’t Harabeoji set Appa to stand on a great shire horse when you were three years old?”

Commodore Bang winced, holding back a laugh as his sons cried at him for the story. But of course, he would not refuse to indulge them well with the story, letting them have the satisfaction of teasing him. Mari knew if it meant that they could be occupied with him for some moment longer, he would forsake all and do it. Though she would not wish it to cost his health.

Commodore Bang had his duties to his tenants in the days, his balls and assemblies at night, the afternoon and early morning spared to his younglings. Mari knew he was at rest while the boys are studying. Then he would join them for lunch, and again in the afternoon to see whatever mischief they’re up to, ever enthusiastic to be involved or to hold them close.

One such afternoon Mari mused on the terrace, neglecting her book while watching the Bangs trying their new archery targets. Yet Yongbok toddled towards her, joined by the others to reach the basket of fruits and bread on the table. The Commodore trailed behind them. “I have reasons to claim that you are irked at me, Miss Son,” he declared by way of greeting.

It was a sudden remark, though when Mari turned he had spoken with generosity and amused eyes. Knowing he was open humour at the moment, she asked, “And what reasons are they?”

“Your manners, Miss Son; the look on your face when I took them away for some games.”

He nodded towards the children, who were taking hearty bites of the pastries with no mind to the adults' conversations.

Mari chuckled with dry mirth. “You have stolen my companions for lengthier hours than last month, Commodore,” she said, making a point by letting Yongbok settle on her lap. “Yet it irks me more that it is not justified for me to be resentful, considering their father genuinely wishes to indulge them.”

Commodore Bang laughed. Having the boys spend their time between the two meant that Mari's share decreased. But her vengeance towards the man was mild compared to her delight at the happier days. Exuberance was a pleasant air to behold in him, and she marvelled at his radiance as he was between his boys. Mr Kang and Minatozaki-san agreed how such pleasant air had emerged from him.

“He does look remarkable these days, praise the heavens for that,” Mr Kang commented as they had tea in the kitchen. Having more spare hours allowed Mari to join their company and hear their opinion on matters.

"Would you say younger?" Mari asked.

Mr Kang chuckles, "I vouch for your statement, Miss Son."

“Well, wringing them seven with his own hands will try him enough, Mari," said Minatozaki-san. " And no, I'm hardly cruel. It's the least he can expect as their father. Aren’t the roses lovely? They’ll be perfect for winter.” The housekeeper took up her stringed stalks of roses, handing them to a younger maid. They are hanging them upside down on the knobs above the kitchen. Minatozaki-san had become busier on account of a great event this autumn.

“We might even need to borrow some hands from the inn,” she said. “The ball is but three weeks from now, I should like to have it a well-done affair. After all, it is the first ball in some four, or three years. We have to take some measured preparations to make it grand—as grand as Barlnshore should be.”

"I can write the letter, if you'd like," Mr Kang offered.

"Thank you, Younghyun. I appreciate it."

"How many invitations?" Mari inquired.

Mr Kang and Minatozaki-san turned to each other, a slight frown on their brows as they calculated and made recollections. "Fifty families?" Minatozaki-san estimated.

"The bachelor nephews included," Mr Kang added.

"Good gracious," Mari shuddered. “But it is private at the least. It would not be as crowded as an assembly ball.” She remembered the twenty pairs of dancers surrounded by the entire habitants of S—. The room was full of shuffling people and clacking shoes. It was too much for Mari — she spent the night above the floor chattering and arguing with Jung Soojin.

Lady Jang had proposed the idea for the ball, after viewing the boy’s accomplishment one evening. Jisung and Seungmin had played without Mari, with Minho and Hyunjin singing along to the tunes. It was a splendid performance, to Mari's pride. Between the praises and claps Jang Nayoung simply popped the request. “But why have a grand house with a ballroom but no parties? Wouldn’t it be marvellous to see the whole house light up? And you might say it was in honour of me, Chan, but what better way to meet and greet your friends in the country properly?”

With Commodore Bang’s easy affirmation, Barlnshore was soon set in a flurry. Though Minatozaki-san’s excitement demures those of the younger maids, she was not entirely out of spirit in setting the house into liveliness.

“With his class in society, he could not reduce his respect to smaller numbers,” Mr Kang hummed in response to Mari.

“And it’s the boys’ first time as well,” Minatozaki-san murmured. Then she turned to Mari, “It might be a disaster if Jeongin finds his house suddenly packed in. You know the boy is so timid before new things, Miss Son.”

“Indeed he is,” Mari agreed. “But—his brother’s excitements might distract him.”

Though the Commodore and Lady Jang was present during the arrangement to settle the menus and flower arrangement, much of it was left to Mr Kang and Minatozaki-san to oversee. Mari often slipped into the servant’s hall to help. Any time her charges napped or were relegated to their Father’s hand for some while, she would don her apron and find some napkins to sort and fold, or vases and drapes to choose for the housekeeper.

The ballroom hall took most of the work. It had been locked for some three years; although the servants had kept it in good condition with the occasional dusting, significant changes were made at present. The dark curtains were removed and exchanged for newer red ones. There was dust to wipe, brass candle holders and mirrors to polish, as well as carpets to air. Then they were to open the paintings under their veils and restore them as necessary.

Barlnshore was gifted to Lady Bang—then Miss Hwa Jaebin as was—from her widowed aunt. But it was a recently built house. Therefore the paintings were relatively new, instead of portraits from generations of family members. Most were hung on the ballroom walls. Some were purchased or commissioned: views of landscapes from the Commodore’s seaside town and the Hwa family's grand halls and gardens. Some were smaller pictures of animals and flowers, painted by Lady Jaebin, and some were the boys’ portraits in watercolours. There was a grand picture of the family as three, or five, then growing into seven. The children in groups, a few more of the Commodore in his naval uniform; Minho at eight years old. Most striking of all was that of Lady Jaebin—her femininity striking among the eight men in her life. The portrait was covered in black crepes, alongside the pair of her and the Commodore’s portrait. Commodore Bang’s was painted in his earth-green suit, with golden and black shadows behind him. Lady Jaebin sat with a smile towards the audience, her lilac gown contrasting sweetly with her blonde hair and the red background.

“Master Jeongin! ‘Tis your mother!” the maid who unveiled the crepe exclaimed.

The youngest had just risen from his nap and wandered into the ballroom for its commotion. He said little on account of sleepiness, but after a fixed stare towards the portrait, he sneezed.

“Bless his soul!” Yeonji laughed. “Take him away from the dust here, Miss Son. You’ve been a great help.”

The boys took advantage of the polished floors of the open ballroom to slide as they pleased. Mari only shrugged when Commodore Bang observed their amusement. For the ball, he had agreed—among eagerly consenting nods—that they may stay for half an hour later than their bedtime, with the condition to maintain proper manners and hushed voices. With what Mari thought was good foresight, he allowed them to run about on the terrace outside the ballroom. The boys’ loud ‘yes’ settled it all, anything to humour themselves to a different night.

“Does your father play by chance?” Mari asked had asked Minho after their performance. She handed him his tea.

“Oh, he does,” the lad exclaimed in a hushed whisper. His eyes drifted to his father, who was occupied with tickling Seungmin. “We’re quite musical—I must’ve told you. And he plays better than he sings. He’s a nice tenor voice, but Eomma sings stronger.”

“How about he performs for us some other time?”

Minho chuckled, “Appa’s modest about such things. One must force or threaten him altogether.”

[Minho and Changbin and their car driving debacle in SKZ-CODE Jeju was just the peak first and second child duo. I’m living it, I’m living for implementing it in this AU]

[uni has started again and after struggling through the first week and completing a maddening event, I'll be darned if I don't upload the few chapters I've managed to work on the hols. the fact that I have the mornings off on Mondays makes it all the better for this new semester so you'll know what to wait for these weeks👀 BRAEM HAS RETURNED what do you think of this new chapter now? replies, reblogs and likes are always appreciated and thank you for reading!]

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braemjeorn · 1 year

Text

CHAPTER IX [masterlist]

pairing: bang chan x ofc

genre: general audience

notes/warning: regency period drama; ballrooms; dancing!

wordcount: 2.1k

summary: the night can lend to a new angle of perception

also available in ao3, if you prefer that format

⚠️ All characters that shares the name of real life person in this story are represented in a fictional manner for entertainment purpose, and not to be alluded with real life.

TAGLIST: @spookykryptoniteperson @nixtape-foryou @do-you-know-what-else-is-big

[The dance scene was from Emma 2020 if you ever get confused by the motion descriptions.]

Mari led the boys out to the terrace after dinner. The meals rendered them sedate enough but not too fatigued that they’d fuss. For now, they were content to peer through the glass doors, meeting their father’s winking eyes as he escorted an older lady down the dancing line. If it ceased to entertain them, they’d run about Mari on her bench or chase each other, being merry in their games.

“Oh, Miss Son, how could you read so?” Hyunjin exclaimed, sitting beside her, breathless after escaping Jeongin’s chase.

“For an odd reason I found my time to read now,” Mari replied, settling down her book. “I have things to do in the day and to help in the afternoons. Then the drawing-room assemblies are too vivacious with all your chatter and music, and my nights are too tiring!”

“But it’s a ball!” Hyunjin insisted, giggling when Mari frowned at his lilting tone. Her hand brushed into his rustled hair, “And what a grand party it is. So many people are here.”

Lady Jang had mentioned how nice it would be to allow the young ladies and gentlemen of the village to mingle. With her novel appearance in the country, the number of invitations had been a success. At least twenty families making up their neighbours accepted. Others came from farther up north or towards the east. Barlnshore was never so lively: bright in a thousand candles, dancing, and music. One can attest to Baroness Jang's competence as a hostess.

“Miss Son, you should dance!” Hyunjin exclaimed.

“Governesses don’t dance, Hyunnie,” Mari laughed.

“‘Tis a waste of your lovely dress!” the boy whined again, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Purple is very beautiful on you.”

“Why, thank you. I think so myself.” Mrs Moon had insisted Mari wear the dress; old but of such fine satin and muslin. The governess was reluctant. Her eyes delighted in it but felt the dress was too rich for her station. It is in plain purple, with bulbous sleeves at the top, and fitting down her wrist. In the end, Minatozaki-san insisted. She might as well have something nice to wear for the ball instead of her plain cotton and linens. Mari should consider it a gift for her hard work. Might as well make it some sort of welcoming gift to the family. In the end, the governess relented; privately her vanity and confidence were pleased as the older women praised how well the dress suited her.

”Though it’s hardly the mode,” Jisung observed, having approached with his twin.

Hyunjin shrugged, “Still lovelier than her grey dresses.”

“Then stop being a cat by pressing to her side and wrinkle her sleeve so,” said the approaching Minho. Hyunjin let out his tongue—and was jabbed in the ribs by the eldest. Seungmin crashed into Mari's lap in the scuffle.

“Miss Son, I want to dance,” he declared, muffled in her lap.

“I don’t see why not,” she sighed, on her way to relenting. Minho, Changbin and Hyunjin had asked for dancing lessons with her since two weeks ago.

“There’s no partner your age, Mong,” Minho said. Hyunjin had had a thorough reprimanding and stilled the elder’s hand in his grip. “No child would be allowed to a party.”

“Should we invite our cousins the Hwas then?” Hyunjin asked.

“We can only see them during the holidays,” Minho replied.

“If they don’t live far away, we can have a little party at the twin’s birthday, or Seungmin’s,” Mari offered. “You can dance and play in the gardens.”

One set was finished in the ballroom and claps followed the final tune.

“That was a beautiful picture,” she mused about the view into the window, joining to clap as well.

“Miss Son, they’re doing the waltz next!” Hyunjin murmured. With some flourish, he stood before her and bowed, “May I have the honour, Miss Son? Please?”

Changbin cooed and Minho cackled; the others giggled. With a twinkle in his eyes, Mari tilted her chin, and offered her hand, “I hope you know the steps well, Master Hyunjin.”

“But you’ve taught me a little, haven’t you?”

“Very well then! You’re in luck; this is one of my favourites. Come!” Mari led them to the open terrace, circled by rose shrubs.

“Well now, the customary greetings — ” Hyunjin bowed, and she curtsied “ — Well done. Now, our right hands together— Very good and… step forward slightly, with a sway. Now the lady is supposed to turn under...—”

“Try Miss Son?” Mari conceded, crouching herself awkwardly in the replication.

“The other hand, now,” she chuckled. “Sway, and—your turn…”

“Appa!” Yongbok exclaimed.

Mari and Hyunjin paused, turning towards the door. Commodore Bang waved a hand over at his boys from the terrace door, an amused smile in place. He approached the pair, who bowed and explained their predicament.

“Then allow me?” Commodore Bang offered his hand to Mari. She stared at him and in finding his warm eyes, felt no hesitation to rest her hand in his.

“A demonstration, Hyunjin, do well to remember it,” said the Commodore

“All right!”

Commodore Bang led her a few steps further, the same moment the violinist began the new song.

“You like this song?” he asked as a smile broke through Mari.

“I do.” They sway forward again, coming close to one another, twice with exchanged hands. It needed no saying that by such affination Mari was well accustomed to the steps. The hold was released, but Commodore Bang offered it again, to turn her around so that she now stands where he was. By then Mari was already quite giddy with the motions.

“I’m sorry,” she said between her chuckles, pleasure rushing from sheer dancing. It had been some while, but Mari knew how to comport herself to a graceful dancer. They lay their hands over one another between them, turning in circles. Commodore Bang then held her hand and raised it over her head so that she might turn under, now in a proper manner. The turns relieved her—when they stepped away to turn with the nonexistent other pair. The Commodore stared as she couldn’t seem to curb her smile. So Mari took a deep breath, more composed to face him again, letting him lead her under the turn again to the other side.

They faced one another again, exchanged a little bow, and together they stepped up the line before settling then clapped their hands to the beat. Mari curtsied, rising back with her elbow up and her hand before her, which the Commodore crossed with his. Another sway to the left side—Commodore Bang extended his hands that their hands held before and behind their waists. The warm candlelight fell over his face as they turned, illuminating his eyes and smile.

The change in his manners had awed Mari, often leaving her bewildered. Whatever happened to the man who dressed in nothing but black and dark shades; with hard eyes and a down-turned mouth?—Now his waistcoat was covered in small blue blossoms, and he was dancing! And how well he does it! He was graceful, and never out of pace; with gentle, easy hands leading her to turns.

Mari saw him earlier with Lady Jang, he had opened it sprightly with the cotillion. But of course, Lady Bang had been a proficient musician—Mari supposed they would have shared the interest. She was happy for him, that his heart was in such a light state for such entertainment.

“Oh, forgive me!” Her occupied thoughts made her miss descending the line again. But the Commodore led her through it, then they faced one another again. Her mind was vacant of the next step, but he offered his hand before her mortification could surge. They swayed forwards once, and then he moved his palm to her waist and took her hand, turning them both.

The tune stopped, and so it ended. Commodore Bang's brown eyes — golden in the light — seemed too close to hers. Mari shifted from her stunned stance; he released her. She stepped away, holding her hand to her thumping breast, laughing out the nerves.

“Enjoyed it?”

“Very much, sir” Mari nodded. “Oh, I had forgotten how pleasant it can be.”

There were claps from the boys, and Mari’s hand raised to cover her cheeks. Commodore Bang joined the claps, and somehow her heart was full. His eyes maintained a pleased glint when she looked at him. Their exchanged smiles pulled out laughter, which scrunched his eyes and showed his glinting teeth.

“Thank you,” Mari said. She bowed to him, grateful that he had attended her most kindly—most gentlemanly. Commodore Bang gave her a bow.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he replied.

By that time the boys began to scramble close to them, and he turned to wrestle them into his hold.

“In other occasions, you might have enjoyed the company of more suitable partners,” Commodore Bang remarked. Seungmin had been wrangled to stay between his legs.

Mari shook her head. “Nay, Commodore, these seven rascals are enough alternatives.”

“Aren’t you dizzy?” Seungmin asked.

“You turned around lots,” Yongbok added.

“My turn again?” Hyunjin asked, already reaching to lead Mari's hand.

Commodore Bang shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s bedtime, petit danseur.”

“It can’t be!” cried the boy in despair as his father showed his watch.

“Quite right, we must say goodnight.” Mari ushered them to bid goodnights, then approached Jeongin. He's slumped against a beady-eyed, quiet Minho.

“What’s that whine, lad?” Mari asked the youngest. “Tired or tired?”

“Miss Son,” Jeongin giggled and merely reached out his hand when Mari prompted him to stand. Her response was a blase stare, but she gave him her hand and led him to bid his father goodnight. Commodore Bang pulled him up, almost throwing him into the air.

“My Jeongin’s a big boy now, hmm?” he gushes, brushing over the boy's shaking head. “No?”

“I’m still small,” Jeongin stated, nuzzling under his chin.

“Indeed that you are,” Commodore Bang nosed his soft black hair and gave him his peck. “Goodnight, cub.”

Jeongin hummed, and his head lolled towards Mari, arms extended. The governess sighed; Commodore Bang chuckled.

“Aish, to think you’re almost six.” Jeongin was transferred to her hold, but Mari hardly bothered to fix her hold and settled him the way he came.

“You’ve danced quite a bit in a single night,” Lady Jang said to the Commodore, who followed a few steps away from his boys. "More than I've seen in a single night."

“Miss Son, he’s all tilted!” Jisung giggled, coming close to touch Jeongin’s head, lower than his legs. Among further giggles and teasing, Mari set the youngest right on the floor, and then shooed the others inside. Lady Jang was by the glass door, in the entire regality of her deep mauve gown watching the view. Each of them bid her goodnight, before crossing the room to reach the main stairs.

He tucked her arms under his, leading her into the dining room. “Mustn't I be the gracious host, and attend to my guests? You've set the example, after all, dear Anette.”

“What’s with your face?” Changbin asked for Minho had looked quite the simpleton. He was giggling with wide eyes, despite restraining himself to appear composed among the guests.

Lady Jang gave and said no more but a smile, though she observed him a great deal as they returned inside.

“What?” the eldest returned, guiltless.

“You look as if someone struck you with a pie, yet it fell upon your legs instead; so now you laugh because you know not whether to be angry or to find it entirely stupid, therefore—”

Minho cackled like a witch at the allegory, at which many heads turn. Changbin gave them his sweetest smile, hoping to bide their attention. He pulled Minho closer as they climbed the stair— none too gently. It has been long since such enthusiasm overcame the eldest, and Changbin knew the particulars well.

“Please consult me on this mischief—I must grant some consideration to your random schemes, as usual.”

“Oh no, indeed!” Minho hiccuped, without depleting amusement. “’Tis no mischief. Absolutely not! But it is equally amusing.”

Changbin’s intrigue gave him some pause, but soon he demanded, “Tell me.”

“No.”

Now that is unacceptable. “Hyung!”

“No.”

“Hyung…!”

“Boys!” Mari sharply cut the whine. One must separate the terrors which are Changbin and Minho, before their raised voices and their aggravated conversation disturb others. “Anything the matter?”

“Nothing!” both exclaimed. With a note to their guileless face, Mari turned away, ushering the twins from their scheming.

“In further contemplation it might even be dangerous to divulge,” Minho considered, his face falling grave.

“You went from amusing to dangerous—!?”

Minho's hand covered the younger's mouth, and he retrieved it with a yelp when it was kissed. Changbin gestures two fingers to his own eyes, then to Minho’s, insistent till the end.

“Get to sleep, brat," Minho hissed, urging the other into their room. "The thought might simmer more sensibly tomorrow."

[OKAY IM SORRY THIS IS LATE BY AEONS BUT DISASTER HAPPENED AND I THOUGHT I WAS DONE FOR BUT HERE—what do you think of our babies, they got a dance scene ^♡^!!]

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