“Thanks,” the girl whispers over the steady beratements from Hwanin directed toward Seokga, and occasionally joined in by the woman named Dr. Jang.

“Are you all right?” Kisa asks, glancing up at her. “I work in the sick bay. If you need anything for bruises or…”

She shakes her head. “I’m fine. Just upset. The CEO will hear about this.” A soft sigh. “I’m so tired of working down here. But all my points for good behavior will be docked because of tonight. Yeomra will see my name on the list of greenhouse workers.”

Kisa is acutely aware of Seokga’s gaze on her back. “We can submit our own report…” HR in Jeoseung and especially on the SRC Flatliner is laughable at best, but it’s better to try than to not.

“No.” A bitter laugh. “Hwanin and Seokga are gods. We can’t exactly go around blaming them.” With a sad smile, the server shakes her head as they collect the rest of the glass, setting the piles back on the metal tray. “Thanks, anyway. I’m Chaeyeon. Lim Chaeyeon.”

“Yoo Kisa,” she replies, and the two share quick, half-hearted smiles as they drag themselves back to their feet.

“I can’t even look at you,” Hwanin is finishing, glaring at Seokga. “I can’t even—” The emperor pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m leaving,” he says. “Please do not follow me. If you do, I may resort to physical violence and give you the punch in the face that you so dearly deserve.”

Seokga’s smirk is thin and razor-sharp. “Oh, no. I’m so very threatened, brother.”

Hwanin glowers in disgust for one final moment before turning on his heel, making his way to the exit. Kisa watches as Dr. Jang shakes her head.

“I’m extremely disappointed in you, Seokga,” she whispers. “As we have discussed before, trying to stab people is not part of your recovery plan. I expect to have a discussion with you tomorrow morning.” Kisa watches as, with a final disappointed sigh, the doctor trails after Hwanin, Chaeyeon following close behind, carefully balancing the tray of shattered, glittering glass.

The crowd remains frozen as Seokga stands there, eyes glittering with unrepentant amusement. Kisa shakes her head, staring at him from where she stands amongst the feathers. He turns to her, and the apology that Kisa had crafted on the way here dissipates into ash.

“You think that was funny?” she whispers. Seokga freezes in a way he hadn’t even when his brother threatened to punch him. His expression is suddenly uncertain.

—did—for her—why does—glare—me—