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killergee · 5 days ago

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Here's part 2! I’m so sorry for the late update! It’s hard to write smart characters when your brain is fried from work every day.

Lahan x reader fanfic where you are the mastermind behind your clan and Lahan has made it his mission to unravel you and everything about you.

Summary: Navigating your new relationship with Lahan, you try to figure out why you were invited to the La estate. Will you fall for Lahan first or his father's schemes?

Part 1

Divider by @uzmacchiato

"You called for me?"

Your voice rings out as you step into your father's chambers. Hearing the doors close behind you, you turn and let your eyes follow the disappearing figure of the servant who summoned you. It's not until you hear the sound of footsteps fall silent do you make your way deeper into the room.

It’s been a few days since you’ve met with your father in private. You could use the excuse that you'd done it to squash any suspicions of your connection to your father's political activities, but that wouldn't be the full truth. In reality, it’s because Lakan has been a thorn in your side ever since your go game.

Following you everywhere, inviting you to meals and teas, he’s kept a better eye on you than a prison steward. From the moment the sun rose to when the moon glimmers in the night sky, he seems to have made it his mission to keep you busy the entire day. When you do finally gain a moment to yourself, you’re too exhausted to even think about leaving your bed.

And yet, you can’t lie and say you were completely bothered by him. No, these past few days have been the most fun you've had in a while. But you would never admit that to him.

No, doing that would feel like losing.

You find your father sitting at his desk, stacks upon stacks of paper surround him. The moment he senses your presence, his frantic eyes raise from the mess. “Y/n, whan do we do?” he asks, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t think I can sit through another meeting.”

Your eyes soften at him in pity. Walking over to him, you kneel slightly beside his chair, your hand clasping his own to soothe him. “I know, father. You have done so well this past week.”

From this distance, you notice how old he’s grown. The corner of his eyes wrinkles when he looks at you, the frown lines on his face are deeper, and his hair is whiter than not. They are a heavy reminder that he's no longer fit for things kinds of things. A reminder that he should be at home enjoying his retirement, not here as a political puppet.

You mustn't forget why you are here. You mustn't forget your goals.

Keeping your words vague in fear of being overheard, you speak softly to your father. "Don't worry, Father. All will be done soon." You watch as he visibly relaxes at the sureness of your voice. You smile softly at his trust in you. You didn't need to voice your plans out loud to him—he trusted you unwaveringly.

Before leaving, you had pre-emptively organized with your estate that if you were kept at the La estate for too long, a message would be delivered requesting your urgent return.

The message would be delivered to both you and Lakan. However, Lakan's would be delivered first. You found it suspicious how Lakan’s invitation to your father had mentioned that you were welcome to join as well. Yes, you had built a reputation for yourself as someone who clung to their father. But the way he had mentioned your name specifically instead of just ‘daughter’ made you deeply unsettled. You weren’t supposed to be important; Your name shouldn't have been worth remembering. So why did he go out of his way to explicitly mention you?

Was there a hidden objective to this invitation?

You plan on finding out. The first message sent privately to Lakan will reveal his intentions. Will he tell you right away? Or will he withhold the information. Since it would be an urgent request, he has the responsibility to inform your father immediately upon receiving it. However, knowing his insatiable nature, if he’s not yet satisfied with your stay, he may delay your return.

This delay will confirm your suspicions that Lakan had an ulterior motive to inviting you to his estate. But more importantly, the delay will confirm that he hasn't obtained whatever it is that he had schemed for.

If so, then you need to leave immediately. And that’s what the second messenger is for.

Even if Lakan decides to withhold the message, it will reach you anyway. He wouldn't be able to further delay your departure. The excuse would be that since the message was important, they had to be sure it got to you. With a rise in robberies and bandits in-between your territories, your household simply sent another messenger as a contingency plan should the first messenger fail.

You squeeze your father's hand in one last act of assurance. Rising up from your kneeling position, you look towards the window. The messenger should arrive tomorrow. It's time to go home, you think to yourself.

A pair of fox-like eyes flash through your mind.

You shake your head to get rid of the vexing thought. "Y/n?" Your father asks, concern tinting his voice.

"It's nothing," you respond. "I'm just a bit tired, that's all."

The hues of the setting sun shine through the windows and stain your skin pink and orange. The room is illuminated by the warmth of these colours, and it all starts to seem so unreal.

Your father gives you an equally warm smile. "Then please go rest. I'll see you tomorrow.” He pats your hand softly. “Have a good rest, dear."

"As do you, father. Have a peaceful night." You bow your head at your father and make your way out of his chambers. Closing the two doors, you pause for a moment. The palm of your hand rests against the smooth, ornate wood. You close your eyes as you appreciate the gentle breeze that blows through your hair. A soft sigh escapes you as you try to mentally prepare for what’s to come.

"Oh? What a coincidence seeing you here."

And with just that sentence alone, reality comes crashing down on you. The sigh you let out this time is more exasperated. You slowly turn around to greet the owner of the honey voice.

"Lahan-sama, good evening. What brings you here?" You say politely with an overly curated smile.

Standing a few steps away from you is the man you thought you got a break from today. With his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes carry a hint of mischief. "Ah, I was just taking a stroll. Care to join me?"

Ok, maybe more than a hint.

You can't help but roll your eyes at him. You should be concerned about maintaining your image, but the thought that this might be your last meeting spurs something in you.

"Is that your wish, Lahan-sama?" You ask, the corner of your mouth pulling into a small grin.

He responds in kind. "If I said it wasn't, would you still join me?"

"Who knows?" You retort, playfulness twinkling in your eyes.

At that, Lahan couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. His head shakes in a way that appears fond. "Well, it's not my wish but if you join me, maybe I'll tell you," he says, tilting his head in a way that makes him resemble more like a puppy than a fox.

You pretend to be pensive. But even you knew there was only ever going to be one answer you’d give him. "Hmmm, that’s quite an interesting proposition.”

You move to walk towards him, enjoying the way his eyes follow you. You let your arm barely graze his as you pass him. Your head peers back playfully, “lead the way."

Lahan laughs once again as he steps towards you. He offers his arm, and you take it—allowing him to guide you out of the guest’s wing. The warmth of his arm comforts you as well as his faint scent of something woody and fresh. Glancing up at his face, you can’t help but be enamored by the way the sun melts into his skin. From this walk, from this distance, from the easiness of it all, you start to forget about your nerves for the day to come.

"Well, will you tell me the real reason why you came to my father's chambers?" You ask after a moment of comfortable silence.

"Hmm?" He hums as if he was lost in thought. "Oh yes, it's because I heard you were asking for me,” he continues.

You narrow your eyes at him in response. You never asked for him, though? Unless... oh. He must be talking about the guard you had ordered to spy on him. Seems like you've been busted.

You needed to make sure he hadn’t done anything with his new knowledge. You thought that he’d use your secret against you like how he’d done countless of times to others. Yet, contrary to your beliefs, he hadn’t done anything with your secret. Maybe he’s just waiting for the perfect time to strike.

You scoff. "More like asking about," you mutter under your breath.

"Same difference," he says with a shrug. "Why ask a guard when you can ask the real deal? If you're so curious about me, I could always answer your questions," he says, his eyes gleaming. "But off course for a small price," he says, rubbing his fingers together.

"And how much more are you trying to take from me?" You let out an amused huff in disbelief at his greed. He already has his wish to use, and now he's asking for more?

His pace falls slightly. "I'd take everything, if I could," he confesses casually, words falling out as easy as a breath.

Heat floods your ears, and you can't help but stare incredulously at him. You turn your eyes away from him, raising your sleeved hand to hide your face. You start to pull away, but his other hand goes to rest on top of yours, keeping your arm linked into his. If anything, he pulls you closer, his body now facing yours. His head tilts down to yours, his eyes focused on your face.

"Don't move."

You look at him, confused and embarrassed at his random command. Your hand falls for a moment as you watch his eyes roam your face.

"Interesting,” he says. He lifts his finger slowly and gently caresses your cheek, moving a stray strand of hair to the side. “I thought I only enjoyed your cunning look, but this is equally enjoyable." His shifts his hand to palm the side of your cheek.

"So, red." His gaze flickers down a little too low and long for your liking. "I wonder how low it goes."

"You!" You immediately pull yourself from him. Marching away from him as quickly as you can, you press your hands to your cheeks to try to cool them.

You start to walk a little faster when you hear Lahan's bright and carefree laughter behind you. "Haha, sorry, I- wait! Come back here!" His smile is radiant when he catches up to you.

"You scoundrel," you say annoyance coating your voice, although fondness seeps through. "I'm returning to my chambers," you tut.

At least he has the gall to look a little apologetic. "Please, at least let me escort you back," he says with a lilt in his voice.

You don't respond to him, but you don’t hasten your pace either. He stands tall beside you, walking with his hands clasped together underneath his sleeves respectfully. Although he is now a respectful distance away from you, you can feel his eyes land on you every once in a while.

They were curious eyes. Eyes that seem to be tracing every part of you, as if committing them to memory. You want to speak up, but you're afraid your embarrassment at his devoted attention would show.

The sun is fully set by the time he escorts you to your door. You turn to face him before entering your chambers.

"You've promised me something."

"Oh, have I?" He lilts with his head tilting towards you.

"Here's the part where you tell me your wish," you respond, arms crossed in front of your chest expectantly.

His smile is crooked when he speaks. "I only said maybe, didn't I?" With one hand, he slowly unfurls yours from your guarded stance and brings it to his lips. His kiss against your knuckle is tender and chaste.

"This is the part where I bid you goodnight, Lady y/n. " He says sweetly, the softness of his eyes contrasting their sharp shape.

Your mouth curves into a small smile. “Fine, I'll let you off this time." Letting your hand fall from his, you open the door and step into your room. Hugging the door before closing it, you give him one last mischievous smile. "But only this time."

The laughter that responds is melodic. It makes your heart sing. "I won't take your generosity for granted," he says with shining eyes.

"Goodnight, y/n.”

"Goodnight, Lahan."

The morning cold bites at your skin as you lean against your window the next day. The sun has barely risen, but the sky has already shifted into a brighter shade of blue and yellow. The only ones awake are a few servants who sluggishly move through the halls to start their tasks.

Closing your window, you sit back down on your bed. It will take another hour or two for your servants to come and prepare you for the day. Too anxious to fully lie down, you simply wait and listen to the sound of chirps from the morning birds. If all things go according to plan, the message should be delivered any minute now.

And yet you hear nothing. You don't hear the scurrying of feet outside your room or the sound of alarmed voices. Even after you've been dressed and served breakfast, there is no disturbance in the peaceful morning.

Your heart starts to thump against your ribs when your second meal is served to you. No one has come to talk to you at all. Not your guard, not your father, not even Lahan. The stillness of it all is driving you up the wall.

Did your plan fail? There's no possible way that one of your most trusted messengers had failed to deliver your message on time. Surely, this must mean that Lakan has received the message and has chosen to hide it. But then, why hasn’t your messenger given you the signal that he's delivered the message already? If he made contact, a servant was supposed to serve you a special tea that's only unique to your territory. Your messenger would give it to them in the guise that your estate had sent it because you must've missed it during your time away.

But the tea they have given you is merely green tea.

Looking up at the young maid assigned to you, you ask her if there were any other teas. She looks at you for a minute before listing out all the tea leaves at the estate with no mention of receiving anything from your messenger.

Something is wrong.

You thank her, and it’s not until she leaves your chambers do you realize how tightly clenched your fists are under the table.

You breathe in and out slowly. You are not going to stumble just because a few things aren't going to plan. No, you're better than that.

You get up from your chair and immediately slip out of your room without alerting the guards. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, and the feeling in your gut is making you increasingly uneasy. You must go to your father at once and see if he has any updates on the situat-

"In a rush?"

That sing-song voice stops you in your tracks. Your heart flies to your throat as you come to a halt.

Slowly turning your head to the side, you see the La Clan member you wanted to avoid the most. The one who puts you on edge by his mere presence.

"What a coincidence, just as I was about to go see you," Lakan smiles eerily at you.

The sudden sense of déjà vu doesn't help the disorientation. Your heart is too rapid, and your senses too heightened to calm down. With closed eyes, you breathe in a deep and long breath before you turn and bow at the head clan member.

"Good afternoon, Lakan-sama," you begin, your arms raised in front of your face in an act of respect and fealty. You don't dare to raise your face in the fear that he'll see how shaken you are.

"Please, please, don't be so formal. Especially to me!" He says disarmingly, an easygoing facade washes over him. "I just wanted to stop by to see if you'd join me for tea?"

Rising up to your full height, you look at the older man in front of you. Although he is standing a couple of steps below you in the courtyard, his presence is bigger than ever. His smile might be light, but his eyes are focused and solid on your form.

"Or were you heading somewhere?" He asks, his eyes daring you to reject him.

"Oh, how could I refuse?" You say with a cheery smile—even if the true meaning behind those words were more sardonic and accusatory. "I was just heading to my father to see if he was free to have tea with me. Shall I ask him to join us?"

His eyes appear crescent like when he smiles again. "He can join us later." Walking up the steps, he reaches you in no time. He stands in front of you and simply stares down at you. His entire demeanour screams, 'do you have a problem with that?' Your mouth is dry as you look back at him, not one to back down.

Your brain is working overtime as you try to think of what expression you're supposed to give him. Should you pretend to be sad at this and beg him to let your father be with you? Or should you pretend to be surprised and then ask him why? Would he be offended by your quasi-rejection?

As if waiting for a reaction that he doesn't get, he lets out a shallow sigh before turning and heading to his office without so much as another word.

Your eyes widen at his actions, but you know better than to drag your feet. You walk swiftly to fall in line behind him. Glaring at the back of his head, you wished you could read his mind or at least ask him for an explanation.

When you reach his office, his guard opens the door and usher the two of you in. You see him talk to his servant before he gestures for you to take a seat at the table. "Tea will be ready soon."

You nod as naturally as you can before gracefully sitting down on your chair. Without the tea, anyone would mistake this interaction as a meeting. With nothing to hide behind or to distract yourself, you're forced to give your full and undivided attention to the dangerous man in front of you. Looking up at the man seated across from you, you can't help but notice the resemblance. His eyes were just as sharp as Lahan’s, but they held a weight that could only be obtained from age and experience. There was a heaviness that made them appear solemn in some lights. They looked like they were looking through you.

"Is there any reason in particular that you wished to see me, Lakan-sama?" You begin the discussion slowly, your blood thrumming in your veins. "I can't imagine that I'd be an entertaining tea guest."

"I just thought it was about time that we talked." He responds cooly, leaning forward slightly with his hands clasped together on the table. "You seem to be getting along well with my son."

Your blood freezes. Did he tell him? Were you so foolish as to trust him?

"Yes, he's been a kind and generous host."

"Pfft" Lakan chuckles. "I don't know if I'd use those words to describe him. He's a bit on the weird side, but," he continues, "he takes care of what's his with the upmost devotion and respect."

"Right..." you respond unsure, your voice nearly inclining into a question.

Lakan speaks on. "Although, I guess it runs in the family. People like to say our family is a bit eccentric."

Only a bit?

You clear your throat. "Does that bother you?" You ask.

"Should it bother us?" He asks back. "It’s not like they can do anything about it. Judge all they want; they can’t say anything about our results.” He looks a bit sheepish when he continues. "They also never really say it to our faces."

You can't lie and say you haven't heard about the gossip around the La Clan. How they're hard to get along with and borderline crazy. Nonetheless, people still fight tooth and nail just to get a seat at the table with them. Strong and dangerous, they’ve made it so that no one could ever hurt them even if they wanted to.

“I see,” you say cautiously. You’re at a loss for words on how to continue this conversation.

“But you know what else they say about our family?” he carries on, seemingly oblivious to your dry responses. “That we’re strategic, cunning, smart, and competent.” He studies your expression well before he continues. “Do you happen to know someone like that?”

Your heart drops at his question. You clench your hand on your lap as you attempt to hide your reaction. Should you say your father? No, that feels wrong. “Why, I don’t think anyone could ever be on par with your family, Lakan-sama," you respond, deciding flattery was the safest option.

“Well, that’s a shame,” a knock on the door interrupts him. A servant comes bringing tea. “Because I’d love to have them in the family.”

You don’t think much about his statement because all you feel is a sense of relief. You have never been so grateful in your life for someone interrupting your conversation. If only they could remove you from this conversation altogether.

“Oh, that reminds me, I have another matter I wanted to discuss with you.”

You nod your head attentively as you raise your cup to your lips. The fragrance of the tea halts you in your motion.

It was your tea. The tea that the messenger should've given your servant.

Glancing up at Lahan, you're met with a knowing smirk. “But you probably already know what I want to talk about, don’t you?”

Setting down your cup, you rest your hands around it to try to steal its warmth and comfort. “Any important matters should be discussed with my father,” you state flatly, neither agreeing nor denying.

“Why should I do that when he’s going to relay it to you anyway?” He responds, his mouth pulling into a satisfied smile for the first time since this conversation started. Both of you stare at each other, analyzing each other.

“Let’s say that I did know what you wish to speak about.” You begin, slowly giving in to his ploy. “How sure are you that I will give you the answer you want.”

“It’s not you who I’m betting on.”

“Oh? Who is it? My father?”

“Him? I wouldn’t need to convince him to make him do my bidding. I’m just trying to hurry things along”

Hurry? What did he mean by hurry?

"Pardon me, Lakan-sama, but what do you mean by that?"

"Hmm? Well, it's been a few weeks, so I thought by now...uh," he trails on with his sentence unfinished. He looks like he's struggling to find the right words, but even if he did speak again, they would fall on deaf ears.

Did you read Lakan wrong? Has he already found what he needed from you and your father? Did you overestimate his interest in you? The thoughts swirling around your head are only amplified by the sting of disappointment.

“I-I must apologize on behalf of me and my father for overstaying and exploiting your kindness. I wasn't aware that we were taking too much of your time.” You say immediately, bowing your head in reverence. "We will leave immediately."

“Oh no, no, please," Lakan says. "At least allow us to host a farewell banquet tonight.” Lakan waves his hand reassuringly. “We wouldn’t want people thinking you scurried home after a cup of tea now, would we?”

He didn't deny your statement. Oh, how foolish you were to think of yourself so highly.

“Why of course, thank you so much for showing us generosity time and time again.” You lift your head from your bow. “I will tell my father at once.”

With a nod from Lakan, you stand up from your seat but your legs wobble slightly. You feel sick but you mask it by bowing deeply at him again. As you exit his office you hear him call out.

“I look forward to tonight!”

You feel numb when you look at your reflection and watch the servants comb your hair for the banquet. Although you know you should feel beautiful and excited at the way they've done your makeup and adorned you in such finery, you feel repulsed at yourself. Shame flashes through your body at your presumptuousness.

A dreaded thought enters your mind. Were you also reading too much into Lahan’s actions? Or worse, did Lahan lose his interest in you, too? Would he kick you out just like his father after he was done with you? You don’t think you could handle seeing his disinterested gaze or his bored expression directed at you.

After the banquet, you were leaving. There was no room for discussion. Your father tried to reason with you that you should leave in the morning, but when he saw your facade crumble ever so slightly, he closed his mouth and accepted your request.

With a forlorn sigh, you glance back at the mirror, and you nearly jump when you notice another person reflected. Leaning on the wall studying you was Lahan.

He waves his hand dismissively, and the servants bow before leaving the room. You don’t have the heart to turn around and face him.

"What do I hear about you leaving so quickly?" He asks, making his way towards you.

"Quickly? I've been here for more than we initially planned. It's about high time that I return home." You quip back, posture growing more rigid as you anticipate his arrival at your side.

"I heard from my father that it's urgent, but both you and I know that that's a lie." He says angrily as he places his hand down on your vanity. "There's nothing going on in your territory, and you know it."

"There is, or there isn't. It doesn't change the fact that I must go home." You say watching the way his fingers curl on the table. "Besides, it's not like this is goodbye forever. You can always send another invitation," you try to reason, but even to your ears, it sounds like a lie.

At that he scoffs, his hand falls back to his side as he takes a moment to look at you. A silent moment falls, and although you want to see what expression he was making, you keep your eyes forward on the mirror.

"But will you accept it?" He asks, his voice a bit rough and shaken. "I have a feeling that if I let you go now, I won't see you again, will I?"

No you won't.

You've already done more damage to your security than you could imagine. Now that you've revealed your hand to the La Clan, there's no telling what is going to happen to you. The best thing you can do is damage control. Yes, that's why you're running away. Not because you're scared of getting hurt.

He leans towards you, but this time, he approaches you as if you would disappear if he was too haste. He gently lifts your face to face his. "So what can I do to make you stay?" He asks in a way that's tinged with desparation, making your heart squeeze.

The way his eyes searches yours, hoping, begging for you to tell him anything. The way he holds your face as if you're about to crumble, as if you're a delicate porcelain. It's too much for you to handle.

You rip yourself from his embrace, standing up and moving away from him. You don't turn around because you're scared of seeing the hurt across his face.

"And if I told you I want to leave? That it's not the urgent message that's driving me home but my own desires? Will you force me to stay?" You exclaim, your back towards him.

"I know that's not what you want. I know that you want to stay with me just as much as I want to stay with you-"

"There is nothing between us but surface level infatuation." You blow up, interrupting him. "You think you like me, but it's only a matter of time before you get bored of me and move on to the next best thing."

His posture goes rigid. "What?"

"You'll soon forget about me as nothing more than a passing phase. You'll find something else that sparks your curiosity and is worthy of garnering your obsession." You say. "This infatuation of yours is only but a temporary reaction to something new."

His dry laughter makes your head snap to him. "And what makes you think that you know me so well?"

He stalks towards you, and you take steps back until you're pressed to the edge of a table.

"It's not good to rely on conjecture, Lady y/n." He chastises as he places an arm on either side of you onto the table trapping you. "Tell me, have I done anything to support this hypothesis?"

His eyes bear into your soul. "Have I said something? Have I acted in any way that made you feel replaceable?" The intensity of his stare makes your heart quicken.

"No," you say, using all your will to keep your voice from quivering. "But like you said, I'm not so sure that I know you that well. I can't understand what you could possibly want from me?"

Your question hangs in the air for a moment, and you can't pin what kind of expression is on his face.

He leans irrevocably closer to you. His hand moves to rest on the small of your back, pushing you lightly against him. "Before you asked me how much more I'm to trying to take from you," he confesses. "And I don't think you even fathom how much it is that I want."

His eyes are unwavering and strong. "Your quick wit, your sharp tongue, your bleeding heart. How was I supposed to resist?"

Your heart pounds in your ears, and your fingers dig into his sleeves.

"I want to strategize business with you, discuss military movements with you, I want to see your intelligent brain work openly and unrestricted." He lets out a shaky breath. "I want to go on strolls with you, play go with you, I want to hear your sweet laughter."

You almost miss the heat in his eyes when he leans into you. "You've made me insatiable. I have wanted like I've never wanted before," he growls into the shell of your ear. A shiver goes up your spine, and you wonder if he can feel it with the hand that's burning hot on your back.

"To take from or to take, the line is blurring so quickly every day, and I can't decide," he breathes out, his words softly caressing your skin. He leans back to look down into your eyes. "Oh, how I want to take you," he whispers, eyes half-lidded and full of restrained want. You inhale sharply when you feel his other hand rise to your cheek.

"Tell me," he rasps and his eyes penatrate deep into yours. "Will you let me?" Desperation tinges his voice, making it sound almost like a whine. It sends a fluttering panic throughout your whole body. It roots you in your place even though the adrenaline is urging you to move.

He swallows heavily, quivering lips part once more. "Please?"

That one word alone breaks the thick armored walls you've built up for years. Surging towards him like a moth to a flame, you let yourself burn in his kiss. The sting of his teeth, the heat of his mouth, it's dizzying, it's frantic, it's intoxicating and utterly ridiculous.

You break the kiss for air, but he chases after you again. His insatiable greed suffocates you with desire. The taste of need is intense in your mouth as he explores it like a starved man. Snaking his arms around your waist, you yelp when you feel him hoist you onto the table, pushing himself in between your legs and into your space. It quickly turns into a moan when one of his hands slides down to squeeze your hip.

He's ravenous against you. You feel as if you're drowning in pleasure and his embrace. It's too much and you're starting to get light-headed from the lack of air. You lock one hand into his hair, and the other onto his back, and you pull. You pull with all your strength to get this man off you. With a heated groan, his head finally pulls back with your hand, but his arms still lock your waist in a deadly grip. A grip that says that you're not allowed to leave him even for a heartbeat.

You're panting heavily, gulping for air as if you had been under water for too long. And he watches. He watches with an intense focus, and his head tilted back—hair still gripped in your hand. His eyes are dark and heavy, too busy looking at the way your lips part to realize that he's panting himself.

Your heaving chest flushes against his, and you're caught off guard by the firmness of his body. That slight moment of hesitancy loosens your grip, and he lunges back forward. Your gasps is muffled as he captures your lips in another fiery kiss. All-consuming and hot, something you would've never associated with the meticulous and careful man in front of you. And yet it's everything you've ever wanted.

It takes your whines and more harsh tugs for him to pull away from you again. Although reluctant, he seems to finally comprehend your need for oxygen.

"Sorry," he apologizes, but it comes out breathless and not sorry at all. He probably meant for that to sound sheepish, but with how his eyes fall back onto your lips, you're not so sure he's even trying.

"That's my first time doing something like that," he attempts to explain.

If that was his first time, you don't want to know what his second will be like.

You can't help but blush at that thought. That seems to compell him to lay quick pecks onto your flushed cheeks. You can't help but laugh at his actions. The knot that has been building in your chest finally loosens. You feel his smile against your neck as he kisses you loud and obnoxious. You move your arms to lay your hands on his chest and push him away from you slightly.

The look he gives you is one like a kicked puppy. "We still have the banquet to go to," you say with an easy smile.

He groans out in annoyance and leans to rest his head into the crook of your neck. "It's not like we need the banquet anymore, anyways," he mutters, voice muffled by your shoulder.

"Lahan," you say one more time in a warning tone. "Alright," he says, letting out a sigh before detangling from you. "But I don't think it should be a farewell banquet anymore," he says slyly with a pleased smile.

You smile back at him. "Oh? What should it be then?"

"An engagement celebration, perhaps?" He says, taking your hand in his.

You laugh. "And who says I'm going to marry you?"

"Well, that's my wish, remember?" he says cheekily, bringing your hand in for a kiss. "Will you do me the honours of granting it?"

You roll your eyes at his grandiose scheme. "So you were really set on that since the beginning, huh? You really are a conniving fox."

"I'm taking that as a yes," he says quickly, stealing a kiss before heading towards the door. "I'll tell our fathers then. You, uh-" He blushes, his hand raises to wipe at his mouth. "Stay put. I'll, uh, call someone to help you get ready."

With that, he takes one last longing look at you before exiting your chambers. Confused at his remark, you go to your mirror and see your clothes and make up in complete disarray. Your lipstick has smudged across your skin, and you're showing more skin than you were supposed to in this outfit.

Your put-together image is ruined, and you should be mortified, but you laugh instead. Your body still hums from his heat, and you still feel drunk from his touches.

You plop down onto your bed, gazing up at the ceiling. You can’t help but bring your fingers to your lips.

Your moment of bliss is immediately ruined by a thought.

'I'm just trying to hurry things along~'

“That bastard, Lakan.”

#SURPRISE SUPRISEEEEE #lakan has be scheming all along #SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG #genuinely was struggling with this but i hope it was worth the wait hehe #lahan x reader #the apothecary diaries #la clan #kan lahan #kan lakan #kusuriya no hitorigoto #fanfic #x reader #y/n #x you #knh #apothecary diaries x reader #jinshi #maomao

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killergee · 1 month ago

Text

Summary: You, who has hidden behind a mask for so long, are about to be unmasked. Or, well, Lahan has made it his mission to unravel you and every thing about you.

Notes: I chose the name jiawei for y/n's dad just cuz f/n looks bad. It also means great/powerful family *hint hint*.

Divider by @uzmacchiato

Part 2

There was something...odd about you.

No, odd wasn't the right word to use. Rather... there was something suspicious.

Lahan's first impression of you was that you were a naive fool. When he met you in the company of your father, he simply assumed you were another pawn ready to be used to infiltrate the La clan.

Watching you daze in and out of conversation, he thought you were as air-headed as you were beautiful.

You were.... how should he put it?

Asymmetrical.

An unbalanced problem where you could've been perfect, but you lacked the right components to be a coherent equation.

Of course, before welcoming you and your father, Lahan did his research. You were a widowed bride, returned to your family as a burden. Not someone worthy of his attention.

So why was it that his eyes couldn't help but come back to you? You who sat idly, sipping tea from afar. You who smelt like warm sunlight on a breezy day. Like fresh lemons laying await on the branches. You, the daughter of a complete imbecile of man sitting in front of him.

He nearly groans as he snaps back into the bland conversation he was forced to partake in. Seated beside his own father, he would roll his eyes if he wasn't so vigilant of his image.

Your father, master Jiawei, was the head of one of the top clans. He was the man who supposedly revived his fallen clan back into a powerhouse. He was the strategist who managed to rebuild his territory into an economic stronghold.

And, he is the same man dodging every question thrown his way.

"Ah, today is a beautiful day, isn't it?"

Is this seriously the same guy? Lakan thinks as he feels a vein pop on his forehead.

"That it is, Jiawei-dono!" Lakan responds cheerily, entertaining who Lahan can only describe as a senile old man.

"I would also love to simply stroll around the garden," he drawls on, raising his cup to his lips. "But," a coldness seeps into his voice, "business calls, right?"

A tense pause stretches through the air. Even Lahan can feel the chill of his adoptive father's calculative stare.

"Bahhhh, don't be so stiff, Jiawei-dono. Relax!" Lakan breaks the silence, his carefree demeanour slipping back on as quickly as it fell. "Let's play go after we finish our discussion," he exclaims with a tight-lipped smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Oh no, father's agitated.

Glancing over at Jiawei-dono, he looks taken aback from Lakan's bipolar behaviour. The hand holding his cup of tea shakes slightly, and Lahan can see a bead of sweat starting to form on his forehead.

Jiawei laughs awkwardly before clearing his throat. "Ah yes, of course. We were talking about...uh"

"Opening a trade route between our territories." Lakan finishes for him, the corner of his smile twitching.

Exasperated from the conversation, Lahan unconsciously glances towards the area where you were sitting, only for his eyes to catch yours. You were sitting across the garden, far away from the business talk, underneath a tree with your own tea and snacks. He wonders why you insist on following your father when all you do during these meetings is sit and wait.

You would be better off staying at home, he thinks absentmindedly as he tries to shrug off the weird ache in his chest as your gaze leaves his for the clouds.

"How about we continue this tomorrow?" His father's voice brings him back into the conversation, annoyance now fully seeping out of him.

Smiling in perhaps relief, Jiawei agrees immediately before settling his cup of tea down.

It's not until Jiawei leaves that Lahan lets out a heavy sigh. "What was that?" He huffs.

Running a hand over his face, "god, if I know," Lakan responds. "It's like he's a completely different person from the reports."

Getting up from his spot, Lahan has no doubts his father was going to go laze off somewhere.

"Hey, maybe it'll be better tomorrow," Lakan says with a final dismissive wave.

Yeah, right.

What the hell.

The next day, Jiawei was like a completely different person. His observations were astute, his suggestions were well thought out, and his reasonings sound.

"Yes, your proposal to construct the route here is quite reasonable. However, keeping in mind the geographical terrain and the rising tension between the towns-"

There is no way this is the same idiot as before, Lahan thinks as he wills his jaw to not drop in disbelief.

And yet, the next day and the day after that, Jiawei was acting how Lahan always pictured him to be.

Lahan would've genuinely believed he made up the first interaction if Jiawei didn't slip up every once in a while.

The only moments where Lahan would realize he didn't make things up was when there was a shift in subject. Then, Jiawei would be the same evasive, clueless idiot as before.

"Father, I heard you invited Jiawei-sama to the general's meeting," Lahan says, returning to his father's office after attending to other matters. "Why would you do that?"

Yawning lazily, Lakan responds, "eh, it could be interesting." His father toys with the edge of his paper. "Who knows if the genius will attend or the bumbling bee."

Eyes narrowing, Lahan was trying to understand his father's game. What was he trying to get at? What was his objective?

His thoughts are interrupted by a loud voice. "Sir, permission to enter?" It calls out from behind the doors.

"Yes, enter," Lakan's authoritative voice rings out in response.

A guard enters the room, bowing in respect to the two clan members. "I am here to report the same findings as the previous nights."

Giving his father a questioning look, Lakan ignores him and gets up from where he's slouched. "I see. Let's pay them a visit, shall we?"

Nodding his head, the guard led them out. Following his father, Lahan soon realizes the direction they were heading in. "Father, what is the meaning of this?"

"Well," Lakan began with mischief shimmering in his eyes, "I had our little friend here keep an eye on our guests. And turns out, they've been having nightly tea parties without us."

Nightly? Lakan raises his eyebrows, "has Jiawei-sama been meeting with someone every night? Is it with an informant?"

Him having help every night would explain how he would become so learned. But that would also mean that he was exposing confidential information to an outsider...

Lost in thought at the various implications of the nightly rendezvous, they reach their destination before he even knew it.

"No, no," Lakan chuckles, "it's someone far more impressive."

Opening the door into the guest's chambers, Lakan's guard announces their presence.

"Ah, Jiawei-dono and Lady y/n. What a lovely night for tea."

Sitting across each other at the table, both seem to freeze at their hosts' sudden arrival. Although, Lahan couldn't tell who was more caught off guard. Them, or him at seeing that you were the secret guest in question.

"Oh my, good evening, Lakan-dono and Lahan. What brings you two here so late at night?" Jiawei begins, setting down his cup.

"Ah, I apologize," Lakan says. "I had just come by hoping to play go with you. I had no idea that I would be intruding on your tea time with your daughter."

"Ah, please, no worries. You are not intruding at all," you say with a quaint smile. "If you wish to speak with my father, I can leave." You begin getting up but not before Lakan waves at you to stay where you are.

"No, no, please! I wouldn't want you to leave just because of us!"

"Ah," you begin, hand covering your mouth in a chaste manner, "if you'll have me, then I'd love to stay," you respond, sitting back down.

"Yes, yes, it's not every night that a father can bond with his children," Lakan says slyly. "Although you two seem to be especially close."

Lahan's eyes focus on the way Jiawei's grip around his cup falters slightly before tightening. "You can say that, but my daughter has only come to drink tea and bid me a good night." Jiawei laughs lightly, "it's nothing exceptional, truly."

"Oh, but I see she also brought you some paper!"

At that, Lahan notices the stack of paper on the table beside their tea set. Papers that are not provided by the La estate.

Lakan continues in a jovial manner. "To go out of her way for her pops when servants could easily deliver the paper," his observant eyes turn to Jiawei, "that is truly one devoted daughter."

Jiawei chuckles nervously. "Thank you for the compliments. But, really, she does so only because she's already on the way."

Although you appear to be zoning out of the conversation, Lahan can tell Jiawei was bristling. There was definitely something suspicious happening.

How interesting.

The first page of the stack is blank, but there might be text hidden in the rest of the papers.

Deciding to make his move, Lahan decides to take a play from his father's books.

Rushing closer to the table, "father, please! We've interrupted them long enough! Let's bid them farewell and be on our way," Lahan pleas, getting in between his father and the table.

It would be a simple mistake. A hurried and reckless swing of an arm sending the tea onto the paper. He would apologize and say how they're ruined, but, of course, he will send for new ones. New ones that wouldn't have been tampered with.

If ruining the papers results in Jiawei bumbling in the next meeting, then that confirms the connection. If it doesn't change anything, then that can rest the theory that you play some sort of role in this.

But as Lahan feels his hand graze the cup, tipping it backward, he never feels it fall.

"Oh dear, do be careful, Lahan-sama," a deceptively gentle voice intercedes.

He turns towards the voice, but his hands feel yours first. He feels how soft they are as they touch his. He thinks about how contrasting it is that these soft hands are also the ones firmly rooting him, the cup, and his plan in place.

However, when his eyes finally look towards you, he thinks nothing could beat the sight before him. You, sitting there with your full attention on him for the first time. Your cunning eyes peer into his soul as if hungrily searching for something. A look so hypnotizing it raises the hair on the back of his neck.

What was it that you were so desperately grasping for? Were you calculating his value? Sizing him up? Looking for what he can do for you? It was like you could see right through him and all his motives.

But in less than a second, those sharp calculating eyes blink back into a clueless look.

You dawn a mask of stupor again as you mutter some excuse that falls on his deaf ears.

In an instant, a flood of possibilities races through his mind. The small fall of your façade has entered so many new possibilities in his calculations.

But more than that, you, in that split instance, were absolutely perfect. The epitome of beauty. The most mathematically ideal.

He wonders if he can see that captivating look again.

He wonders how he'll get to see it again.

The meek smile gracing your features now brings doubts into his mind. "Well, it is getting late. I should retire to my chambers." You say getting up, taking the stacks of paper with you. "I will put these on your desk, father."

Wait.

Not yet. Don't go.

Not until he can wrap his head about what just happened.

Yet, before he could even think of an idea to prolong the interaction, you seemingly trip on thin air, papers flying onto the floor.

Rushing out an apology, you go to pick up all the papers. Lahan crouches down as well, remembering his mission to look at the papers. Taking the chance to look closely in the guise of helping you, he picks up the papers.

They were all blank.

Every page, every side, every corner.

Nothing is adding up, Lahan thinks to himself. This goes against his entire theory. He takes a chance and looks up to read your expression.

Your eyes stay on the papers, collecting them. You appear embarassed, anxious even, at causing the scene.

Was that really a mistake? As he goes to look away before he's found staring, he could've sworn he caught a twinkle of triumph in those eyes and a growing smirk.

Well, that was a bust, Lahan almost says outloud as he and his father make it back to his office.

"Now don't look so disgruntled," Lakan's voice rings out. "We got what we needed."

"What do you mean, father?"

"Well, we got the fox to come out of hiding, didn't we?" He said with a devious grin, eyes dark yet satisfied.

"But that doesn't explain how that bumbling idiot manages to find his words after the meetings."

The guard had confirmed that your tea time with your father were always silent, save for the occasional small talk. So there is no way you could've known what was spoken in the meetings—let alone coach your father on how to speak in them.

"Lahan," his father says with a voice that makes his posture straighten. "What do we know now?"

"We know that the papers are blank?"

"And?"

"And that they were still important enough for Lady y/n to protect it?"

Lakan drawls out a tired sigh as he rolls his eyes at his adoptive son.

"What was the quality of the paper?"

Lahan closes his mouth. He places his hand under his chin and he ponders. The paper did look of high quality, seemingly thicker than normal, and thus more expensive. Why did they pay to use such expensive paper? Especially when paper is becoming much more expensive...

Ah.

"A heavy weight paper, more resistant to tears and more able to withstand liquids and ink without tearing or warping." Lahan thinks out loud.

"Paper that is always delivered by Lady y/n. Even if it is someone else who delivers the papers, it comes from Lady y/n's chamber. Lady y/n who smells of citrus and lemons..."

And at that moment, he remembers what his brat of his sister was muttering about. Something about invisible ink and a source of heat.

If only he could get his hands on those papers again....

"Now, don't get too ahead of yourself," his dad interrupts his thoughts with a stern look. "Everything so far is only conjecture. To make any conclusion of this nature is to accuse Jiawei-dono of depending on his daughter." Lakan continues raising his glass to his lips. "It would be dishonouring and discreditting his intellect and work up until now."

Looking at his father, Lahan decides to finally ask the question that's been plaguing his mind. "Why did you invite them, father?" Few, if not any, families were invited to the La estate. There was no way his father invited them to discuss something as menial as trade routes.

"No reason!" Lakan says in his annoying 'I'm hiding something' tone.

Huh.

Lahan guesses he'll have to find the answers himself.

*Your POV*

Planning to fortify the borders in the North, huh?

You raise your cup of tea to your lips, blowing lightly at the surface. Like the previous days, you're sitting at the table underneath the plum tree. Despite the servants' pleas for you to go explore the estate or enjoy the other views, you always decline saying that you loved this spot the most.

But that couldn't be further from the truth. In reality, this was the best vantage point to observe the meetings. Sitting out of ear shot under the pavilion is your father, Lakan, and other notable clan members.

The meeting location is truly the most strategic. It is visible enough to quell any suspicions of secrecy or corruption and yet private enough that no one would be able to listen in without being seen.

But, you didn't need to listen to know what's going on. No, you only needed to see.

You picked up the habit of reading lips from a young age. You grew up in a tense environment filled with political unrest and turmoil. A house full of hushed whispers, double meanings, and concealed conspiracies.

It was in that house that your mother went insane. She was a victim of your clan's schemes. Being ousted as a social piranha, she desperately tried to prove herself but was never able to grasp the realities of the situation.

It horrified you. The lengths your mother would go to just to survive in this household. And when she died, you thought it might've been for the best. From that day on, you vowed that you would never end up like her.

So when they would conspire to each other in the dark of the night behind closed doors, you'd press your ear against the wall and listen. When they'd whisper under their breath, you'd watch from afar, piecing together their words like a puzzle.

Watching. Waiting. You lived like a ghost. Slipping through the seams and living as under the radar as possible. You needed to know who to avoid, and who to suck up to. Who to trust and who to keep at arms length. Because of this, you became highly observant.

You also made sure to weaponize yourself as much as possible. From reading books on business strategies to learning noble etiquette to even learning the language of fans, you desperately grasped at ways to protect yourself.

And maybe that's why, somewhere along the line, you donned a mask. A mask of oblivion and stupor all in the name of security. Maybe you did it so that if anyone caught you overhearing or watching, they'd dismiss you as nothing more than a naive fool. You can't exactly pin when you started to play a role, but it's been so long that sometimes, you don't even remember who you really are anymore.

But does that really matter?

You would always play with that question in the back of your mind.

Your father's movement catches your eye. You see his body shake from laughter as he talks to Lakan.

Although your father wasn't the brightest, he had a kind heart. He was your best shot to a happy, secure life. And because of that, you had to make sure he was untouchable. So you cleansed your clan of all the parasites that threatened your father's position. You implemented Western agricultural techniques to rejuvenate your territories. And, you even got married to bring honour to your family's name. To be the perfect man, leader, and father, he needed to have the perfect daughter. For you, that meant fulfilling the role society believes you should fulfill.

But unlike most elite daughters, you had full control over who you got to marry. With your observant eyes, you chose the one who hid his sickness under layers of powder. You played it coy, wailing about needing to fall in love before getting married. So you spread out your meetings over the course of months. Then your engagement dragged on for over half a year. And by the time you had finally wed, he was nothing more than an empty husk, a pliant doll.

Dying without an heir, you were returned to your family without question. And knowing how nobles thought, you knew no one would be willing to re-marry you lest they wanted a soiled bride or bride who brought bad fortune. As such, you continued to live in your clan without any suspicions. You were seen as a pious but unfortunate girl. The type of girl that will never be able to leave her home.

It was perfect.

Yet, there was a bump in the road. And that bump was none other than the La clan.

You couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off when Lakan-sama and Lahan interupted your time with your father. You knew there were eyes and ears everywhere in the estate but to think they'd make a move themselves. Hopefully you steered them away from thinking too deeply about your involvement by showing them the contents of the paper.

You made sure to research the La clan before accepting their invitation. You knew that they were a skulk of cunning foxes that you had to be cautious around.

The one you're most worried about, however, is Lahan. He was the one who exposed his own father to place his adoptive father as the head of the clan. In a way, he was very much the same as you. Except he lived in the limelight. He took his rightful credit and stood proudly beside Lakan as his right hand man.

Your brief moment with Lahan confirmed to you how dangerous he was. Remembering the way he looked at you made your face feel warm. It was a mix of awe, curiosity and something else you couldn't quite pin.

You wonder if he saw it. Saw you. The real you.

But there's no way. You might've slipped up for a second, but that's all that was. There's no way he could've unraveled everything with only one glance. The fact that he didn't seem to question your excuse means that he probably didn't put too much weight onto your actions.

You rub your temple to try to soothe all the thoughts running rampant through your head.

Now is not the time. You look towards your father again, and he appears to be struggling judging by his stiff posture.

I'll have to include a page about the militia in the north-

"Why, hello there, Lady y/n."

Had you not grown up so focused on controlling your features, you would've jumped out of your skin at the sudden voice in your ear.

Turning your head away from the meeting, you almost come nose to nose with Lahan. He's standing beside you, bent down to speak to you with his arms behind his back. His presence envelops all your senses as he towers over you.

His eyes ever fox-like gleam mischievously as he straightens back up. "Ah, apologies. I called out to you, but you didn't seem to hear me." He says with a slanted smile. "Are you that engrossed in the meeting?"

Setting your cup down, you try to regain your composure. "Ah, not really. My head must've been in the clouds," you respond with a polite smile. He turns to the direction you had been looking at, almost as if to try to see what you were seeing.

"Are you not joining them today, Lahan-sama?" You ask attempting to block his train of thought.

He shakes his head. "No, I have other plans today." He gazes towards your tea set.

You wait patiently to see what he'll do next but he doesn't do or say anything. He doesn't even give any indication that he wants to leave. He's just waiting.

Does this basta- guy want me to invite him? Didn't he just say he had plans?

Holding in a sigh, you raise your hand to indicate to the seat across from you.

"Well, if you're in no rush, you may join me if it please you."

He shines a small smile. "Gladly."

Although you had pointed to the chair across the table, he decides to sit in the chair closest to you. So close that if he wants to, his knees could touch yours.

You're taken aback by his forward nature. Nothing in the report said anything about him being a womanizer. The report said that he usually likes to watch his prey squirm before he goes to attack, but you haven't done anything yet?

"So," he continues, resting his chin on his hand with his elbow propped onto the table. "Is this how you like to spend your day?"

Your eyes narrow ever so slightly before becoming doe-like again. "Ah, well, I like to stroll in the garden as well. The La estate is very beautiful."

"I see," he says pensively. "A walk in the garden would be nice."

"But you choose to sit here," he continues, keen eyes watching your reaction. "I can show you many other places that may suit your taste, Lady y/n."

You let out a soft giggle. "Ah, thank you but I'm good here."

"Is it because of your father?" His questioning eyes narrow slightly.

You place both your hands in your lap, clasping them softly together. "I like to see him work."

"Right," Lahan responds quietly, his focus training on the men at the table again. "Seeing. That's all you can really do from this distance, isn't it?" He asks almost rhetorically.

"How about a change of scenery?" He continues as if snapping out of his thoughts.

"To where?"

He turns his full focus to you, his relaxed demeanour turning into something more playful. "My office for a game of go, Perhaps?" He says with his canines flashing.

This...could be dangerous.

You try to reject him. "Sorry, Lahan-sama. I don't know how to play."

"I'm sure you'll learn fast," he returns quickly, already extending his hand out towards you in invitation. It's a presumptuous act. One that radiates with confidence that you won't reject him.

And he'd be right. Because you can't.

You know this is a trap. A clever trap that forces you to become a pawn in his game.

You don't know what he knows about you, but based on the fact he decided to approach you right after the tea incident—this invitation is definitely not innocent. No, you know it's not based on the fact that prior to the incident, he never made any moves to interact with you.

This man is not the sporadic, live in the moment type. No, his actions are always imbued with meaning.

Reject him or accept him, he'll mostly likely gain two insights.

Rejecting him confirms that you're tied to this location. You, the air-headed girl, pitifully waiting for her father, have no reason to deny his invitation. If not for the fact that you are seemingly doing nothing at the moment, social conventions would also force you to accept. After all, he is your host—one courteous enough to house you and your father—so you had the social expectations to repay him with a simple game.

You also couldn't use the excuse of the implications of being alone with him. You were a widowed woman. No one cares about your chastity anymore.

So to reject him based on these facts would raise serious flags.

Accepting him would be less dangerous if you play your cards right. Lahan is most likely trying to remove you from the equation to see if your disappearance impacts your father's behaviour in the next meeting. But unlucky for him, you already have a good understanding of the content of the meeting. Even if you aren't able to guide your father on every issue, his incomprehension can be blamed on being burnt out from the long meeting.

Plus, you can simply lose in go. The game itself won't be able to reveal anything about you if you lose on purpose.

Deciding to entertain his plans, you gracefully place your hand on top of his and he helps you stand up from where you're seated. Keeping one hand on his arm, he guides you through the courtyard back into the corridors.

Once inside his office, you see the go board already set up.

This cunning fox, the corner of your mouth almost lifts up at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Ah, my father and I always play so we like to keep it set up," he explains sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

Liar.

You can see the warmth of the tea fog the table beside the go board. He had to have prepared this before coming to see you. You said you had other plans, you wanted to accuse but kept it to yourself.

Fine, you'll entertain him.

You allow him to guide you to your seat. "Thank you for inviting me into your office. It is as meticulous as the rumours say."

Looking around the room, it really is hard to believe that this room is used as an office. Shelves with books perfectly aligned, abacus placed perfectly spaced away from the papers and brushes on the table. It looks too tidy to actually be used.

He fills both of your cups with tea. He's treating you with much more reverence than needed. Usually, it should be you, the guest, the woman, to pour the tea. And yet he's been nothing but gentlemanly to you.

Buttering me up, huh? You use your hand to block the smile that threatens to spill on your lips. Too bad for him, your tongue won't loosen that easily.

"I hope it's to your liking," Lahan says as he takes a sip from his own cup.

To your surprise, it is. It's your favourite type of tea. The one you drink to relieve the stress from reviewing all the paper work for your father. Did he know or was it a mere coincidence?

"Yes, it is, thank you."

He offers a satisfied smile before going into the rules. If you didn't know any better, it would appear as if he was setting you up for failure. When he said he'd keep his explanation brief, you didn't think he'd just skim over everything completely. Even a child could explain this better, you think as you watch him place the pieces down on the board as examples.

"Well, it's something you'll learn as you go," he says, placing the pieces back at your respective sides.

You experimentally pick up a stone to examine it. "I-I see, I hope I won't bore you too much with my playing."

"No, I don't think you'll bore me at all," he replies with his head resting on his hand, his elbow on the table, staring intently at you.

You take the time to absorb him fully for the first time. Handsome is the first word that pops into your head. But willing that thought away, your second thought was that when he's sitting like that, he really does resemble a sly fox. His eyes have a scheming look to them. They seem to catch in the light in a way that makes them look like they're glowing.

He places the first stone onto the board. "How about we make things interesting?"

You raise a brow. "Interesting?"

"Yes," he eyes the piece you place down. "If you win, I'll grant you any wish you'd like."

Looking at him cautiously, you ask "and if you win?"

"Well, of course you'll do the same for me," he responds as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You couldn't say you weren't intrigued. What did Lahan wish for that only you could give him? Though, no matter how curious you were, you couldn't let things go too far.

Watching him tactfully place his stone, you don't lift your eyes off the board. "But I have no wish to ask for. Also it would be unfair, wouldn't it?" You say, puffing your cheeks as you pretend to deliberate hard on your next move.

Lahan lets out a low chuckle. "I'll go easy on you." He picks up a stone from his pile. "And the wish can be anything you want. Like a certain dish for dinner or a tea set. It doesn't have to be grand."

You watch as he absentmindedly twirls the stone between his fingers, showing off his comfort with the pieces, the game, and this situation.

He continues, "this can be the practice match." His amused eyes are crescent-like when they meet yours. "We'll play the real match after."

Despite every fiber of your being telling you this is a bad idea—that you should high tail it and leave before it is too late—a more reckless part of you is saying that it's too good of an opportunity to pass up.

You could wish for you and your father to go home. It would be a wish coming from a home sick girl who misses spending time with your father. You can accidentally win, or play in a way that ends in a tie. Staying here any longer would risk unraveling all your work until now.

You can even ask him to forget playing go with you if need be. To forget about you.

Although that thought makes your heart clench for some reason.

Losing would also fit in your character. The only problem now is that it presents an incalculable risk—an unforeseeable consequence. He could ask for something as unimportant as your household records or something more pernicious...

In the end, you let your intuition guide you.

"Well, if you go easy on me," you agree with a smile.

The smile on his face softens into something more genuine. You can't take your eyes off the gentleness of his expression.

"Of course, my lady."

You two continue taking turns placing your stones. You would purposefully place it in spots where he would have to correct you. You even try to move a stone that is already placed on the grid. And it continued like that for a while. Perhaps this will make him pity you and reconsider his bet, you think hopefully.

"Say are you interested in medicine by any chance?" His voice spears through the peaceful silence.

"Well, not particularly, no," you respond.

He shifts his eyes to yours. "Well, I learnt something really interesting recently, care to learn?"

No, not really. "Oh, do please share!"

"You know how alcohol is used to sanitize items?"

Where's he going with this? You nod along slowly.

"Well, alcohol has a lot of different functions based on how it's distilled. It can be something that can get you drunk. Something that can clean your wounds. And something that can be used to write."

Your cup halts before it could reach your lips. Did he know? How?

Gaze flickering to your hand before going back to your face, he continues. "Yes, if you write using alcohol on paper, you won't see anything under the naked eye. But place it against a flame, the paper will burn at a different heat level, and you'll be able to see the hidden words." He leans slightly closer to you. "Isn't that fascinating?"

You keep your cool. "Wow, that's so amazing! You think I can write something with my father's sake?"

Play dumb. Play dumb. Play dumb.

He moves to capture your stones. "Maybe! Who knows, I have never tested it out myself." He responds. "Maybe there are other things that can make invisible texts as well"

He knows. No doubt.

"Maybe."

You play in silence for a while. Neither of you fully taking the slow game seriously. He places the stones in winning spots, and you would mostly defend and misplace stones in worse spots.

Without glancing up from the board, Lahan hums to himself.

Your eyes flicker up to him, but he seems to be too deep in thought to notice.

"Is something on your mind, Lahan-sama?" You ask as you sip your drink.

Lahan glances up at you as he fiddles with the stone in hand. "I was just thinking about making you my wife."

You spit out your tea and cough as your throat burns from swallowing it incorrectly. Eyes almost popping out of your head, you look incredulously at the fox like man in front of you.

He dons a bemused borderline annoying expression as a crooked smile grows on his face. He looks like he's reveling in your reaction.

"Just kidding," he practically beams. "I'd like to see you a couple more times before that."

This man must be insane you think to yourself.

Is that what he'll ask for if he wins? That thought alone drives you to unconsciously place your stone in a strategic position.

"Ooh, excellent move, Lady y/n," he says excitedly as he moves to capture some pieces. "And here I was thinking you were going to fool around for a while longer."

Huh?

Did he just trick you? Is that not actually his wish?

That must be it. It must be a lie he made up to force you to take the game seriously. But if he really did that for this reason, then you've dug yourself into a hole.

"Was that a good spot?" You say trying to salvage what you could. "I just placed it down randomly."

"Oh? The same way how you'd randomly avoid strategic spots?" He says with a smirk. " You know, first time go players act more recklessly than you do."

You feel your face reddening at his assertion. You swear you were being a mix of reckless and meek. It shouldn't have raised any suspicions.

Oh.

Now that you think about it, his explanations of the game focused only on reckless and aggressive tactics.

"I wonder if anyone will object if I were to propose," he says, interrupting the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind.

"Do you think I'll seriously marry you over a game of go?" You scoff before you could control yourself.

"No, but do you think I won't seriously try to if I win?"

"You..."

You're completely scandalized, and no doubt it shows on your face. Somehow, in a manner of a couple of minutes, he's gotten under your skin in a way no one else could. You couldn't tell if it was because of his brazenness or the way he seems so pleased with himself that you just want to knock him off his high horse.

That conniving bastard.

It's too late to turn the tides now in this game. Even if you use the most efficient moves, you've dug yourself too deep of a hole.

As if knowing what you're thinking, Lahan laughs. "Don't worry, this is only the practice match, remember?" He says placing down his stone. You didn't need to fill out the rest of the board to know the ending. With new heat in your veins, your determined eyes lock onto his.

"Then shall we start a new game?"

This game is a lot slower and more meticulous. For the first time ever, you're being driven into a corner. Both with his promise and the game. In order to beat him, you knew you had to genuinely try. You couldn't afford to play it dumb or else his threat of his wish will ruin your plans of living peacefully. Whether you win or lose, it's a lose-lose situation. Either you expose yourself and ruin your plans for your future or ruin your plans for your future.

His stupid bet you accepted on a whim will change everything.

And yet deep down, it excites you. This feeling of being driven to the edge, forced to take action. To be intellectually challenged.

Looking up into his eyes that seem to peer into your soul, the heat behind them stirs something in you. Your once frozen heart quickly beats in your chest. Even you can admit that he intrigues you like none other.

If you're going down, you're going to go down in a fiery blaze. You will not lose this game. And perhaps, he knows this because he plays as if he also has something to lose. Taking his sweet time to deliberate his moves, your game lasts for so long the sun sets.

In the end, you lose by only two measly points. It was a close match and if you could do it again, you know that'll you'll win next time.

Even so, there's a kind of satisfaction that seeps into your bones. One that makes you crave another match with him. Another conversation. Another anything.

Letting out a long sigh in defeat, your words feel heavy yet exciting on your tongue. "So...are you actually going to make me marry you?"

"Hmm? Oh, that?" He says so casually as if that singular idea didn't turn your whole world upside down. "I was just thinking about it. I haven't decided on my wish yet," he says with a boyish grin.

Oh, he's going to be the death of you.

#so much preamble and yapping just to set up the flirting #i know so long i'm sorry #I can't help but yap #lahan x reader #the apothecary diaries #apothecary diaries x reader #kan lakan #kan lahan #x you #fanfic #la clan #Jinshi #Maomao #fan fiction #Kusuriya no Hitorigoto

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