“I highly doubt that,” Seokga replies coldly, but still follows Hwanin into the hall, where Dr. Jang waits. The therapist has gotten dolled up for the occasion, swapping out her Hawaiian shirt for an extremely frumpy dress with a rubber-duck print that Seokga dearly wants to laugh at. Hwanin’s elbow digs into his ribs before he can snicker.

“Shall we?” Hwanin asks, offering his arm to Dr. Jang. The elderly woman smiles, excitement rolling off her in waves. Seokga ends up walking behind the pair as they take the glittering, diamond-crusted spiraling stairs down one flight to Deck 6, joined by a handful of other guests, all buzzing with excitement.

The last time Seokga was on a ship had been an unfortunate journey with a handful of pirates, all of whom were Unruly dokkaebi, and all of which he’d had to kill. That ship had been small, cramped, and dirty—certainly not large enough, nor sturdy enough, to hold a greenhouse.

It’s a massive building of neat white beams and polished glass, which displays a sea of rich greens and vibrancy beyond.

“Emperor Hwanin,” says the cruise director—a woman named Soo-min (in accordance with her golden name tag) whom Seokga had already decided to dislike based on nothing but his grumpy nature and inherent distrust of smiling people—“and Prince Seokga. Welcome to tonight’s garden party.” She stares for a moment at Dr. Jang, at the ridiculous dress. “Um…Is she with you?”

“Clearly,” snaps Seokga, suddenly protective of Dr. Jang as her face falls. Now that his awe at the SRC Flatliner has mellowed, part of him writhes uncomfortably about how he spoke to her that morning. “She is.”

“Right,” says Soo-min, still staring at the dress. “Well, please enjoy your time tonight.”

“It’s rude to stare,” Seokga whispers as he passes her.

The cruise director jumps. He smiles.

“Boo,” he all but cackles before following his companions into the greenhouse. It is even larger on the inside. Seokga’s ears fill with the gentle murmur of a large, man-made stone pond, in which lily pads float atop earth-hued water. It is a veritable forest in here, humidity-slick cobblestones clicking underneath the heels of a small gathering. Various exotic plants stretch up toward the roof far, far above: high ferns, arching lemon trees, even palm trees which tower over clusters of vibrant flowers. Seokga can almost believe they’re on land, in a rather large garden. The only indication of their true location is the glass walls, which must jut out of the ship. The red river swims below.