Seokga and Hwanin may be as different as day and night, but proof of their brotherhood is in the way both deities push away their plates. Hwanin takes a sip from his goblet (although inside, Seokga knows, is another disgusting mortal creation: soda) and pointedly clears his throat. Immediately, a hush falls over the spacious room. Habaek, the river god, falls silent mid-laugh. Jacheongbi, goddess of agriculture, straightens to attention. At the motion, a few pink cosmos flowers woven in her hair flutter to the ground.

Hwanin’s throne isn’t in here, but it might as well be. Even though he sits cross-legged on a cushion rather than his sovereign perch, he is still the emperor of Okhwang, and the picture of royalty. His silken hanbok of dark blues and silvers matches his eyes and hair, respectively; hair that reaches his chest in an icy curtain. “Thank you, Hwanung, for the lovely meal,” says Hwanin, patting the law god on his head. Hwanung scowls, jerking away. His father clearly pretends not to see, but Seokga doesn’t miss the flash of hurt in his brother’s eyes. It’s been there often recently.

“Now that we’ve all had a chance to, ah, enjoy the food”—Hwanin’s composure seems to falter as he meets Seokga’s eye, and Seokga pointedly lowers his gaze down to the very untouched corn dog on his brother’s plate—“we have some more matters of business to attend to. Specifically, Seokga’s vacation.”

Seokga is very glad he hasn’t eaten a bite of food, because if he had, he’d be choking on it. It’s been a day since his session with Dr. Jang, and Hwanin has not until now mentioned the damnable thing at all. At Seokga’s shocked expression, Hwanin smirks, and Seokga dearly misses the time when he could be at his brother’s throat without this useless moral compass he seems to have developed holding him back.

It is unfortunate that, since his return to Okhwang, he and his older brother have become almost-sort-of friends, Seokga seethes. (The almost-sort-of condition being there thanks to the role Hwanin played in Hani’s death. No matter how hard Hwanin tries to close the gap, Seokga quickly widens it once more.) Nevertheless, the almost-sort-of friendship is unfortunate, because there is nothing he’d like better, in this very moment, than to strangle Hwanin. Dr. Jang’s “prescription” isn’t necessary and will only hold him back from finding Hani.

“Brother,” Seokga growls, some of that old vehemence brimming to the surface. He wraps his fingers around the cane lying at his side, knowing the blade he can unleash by snapping the silver imoogi handle with the right amount of strength. He won’t, of course, but the motion gives him a sense of comfort. “You overstep. I don’t need, or want, a vacation.”