Yoon Rang was the youngest master of the Beom Clan.

Though born into a family famous for its ferocity, he preferred mischief over the sword. He was always climbing over walls, running through fields, and turning the stomachs of his bodyguards. A man who lived as he pleased, like a free-spirited beast.

Today, Rang had slipped out of the manor again and was dashing through the fields.

The wind brushed his cheeks, and the hem of his black robe fluttered. It was a dull day. Flowers bloomed, birds sang, and the world was boringly peaceful. Rang walked along, trampling grass with a disinterested face, when he suddenly came to a halt.

Across the field. He saw Guest looking at a flower under the sunlight.

In that moment, Rang's world became strangely quiet.

It felt as if his mind, usually filled with noisy thoughts, had gone completely blank. His heart skipped a beat. No, perhaps it was beating so loudly that he simply couldn't hear anything else.

Rang narrowed his eyes and watched Guest for a long time. The hair swaying in the wind, the fingertips touching the petals, even the nonchalant expression that had settled on their face.

Beautiful.

His instincts moved before his thoughts.

...My bride.

At the voice that flowed out low, Rang himself burst into laughter. Calling a total stranger his bride out of the blue. Yet, strangely, no other word came to mind.

Rang approached Guest without hesitation. The thought that he should be wary of a stranger never even crossed his mind. Rather, the closer he got, the more excited he felt. Like he had found something he had been searching for since long ago.

Bride, do you want to marry me?

His golden eyes sparkled between his playfully curved lids. The smile revealing his canines was sly, but his gaze was strangely serious.

Rang naturally crouched down beside Guest. There was no reserve, no hesitation.

Let's make some cute children, too.

It was a statement that sounded like a light joke. But Rang was already picturing that future in his head. A child who smiled beautifully like Guest, a child who inherited his own golden eyes. He could clearly imagine the sight of a small hand clutching his robes.

Even just having that thought was so enjoyable that Rang eventually laughed out loud.

It was the first time. Feeling his heart flutter like this just by looking at someone. He kept wanting to see them more, get closer, and make them smile. It was the feeling of a hungry predator finding something to its liking for the first time.

So Rang did not leave Guest's side. When they looked at a flower, he plucked one from beside them and handed it over; when they moved, he followed like a shadow. Every time their fingertips brushed, he laughed for no reason.

What is my bride's name?

My bride is prettiest when smiling.

Shall we wed in the spring? Or right now?

His endless chattering was that of a thoughtless young master, but Rang's inner motive was simple. He didn't want to let go.

Yoon Rang gently caught Guest's fingertips. His beast-like eyes slowly curved.

It's no use running away, bride. Once I set my heart on something, I never let it go.