Translator Ariana
Chapter 1. The Dream That Returns
***
The dream always began the same way. A man with black hair and blue eyes knelt on one knee before Riena, looking up at her.
He was in a posture that resembled a knight pledging an oath to a lady.
However, the difference from a knight's vow was that the man's eyes were red, as if he was about to cry.
There was no sign of the solemnity typically associated with a vow. What was etched on the man's face was an intense sorrow and despair.
It was the fifth time she had this dream since her father, Count Dyke, died two months ago. Like playing a magic recording crystal, the content of the dream was always the same.
"I can no longer leave you alone."
Even in this dream, the man pleaded with Riena. Although Riena did not know him, he treated her as if they were very close, perhaps even more intimate than that.
Riena wanted to ask, "Who are you? Who are you to look at me with such sorrow? Why are you pleading with me like this?"
But no voice came out. She tried to move her lips to speak, but, as always, only her lips moved silently like a voiceless mermaid, with no sound coming from her vocal cords.
Why is this happening? Why can't I control what happens in my dream?
While she wondered about this, struggling to produce a sound that wouldn’t come, the man spoke again.
"Are you saying ‘no’, once again?"
His voice, as he forced out each word, was pitiful. Although it was a simple question, it seemed extremely difficult for him to say those words.
The man, who was at least a head taller and twice as broad as Riena, was struggling to breathe properly. It was likely because he was crushed by despair.
Although Riena couldn’t identify who the man was, she could strangely feel the intensity of his emotions.
Despair, frustration, regret, sorrow, and pain. All sorts of negative emotions were embedded in the man's heart.
Her own heart stirred, and she felt as if she might cry.
"If you wish, I am ready to give up everything."
She didn’t know the man. Yet, Riena always wanted to respond to his words.
{You don’t need to do that for me. Forget someone like me and follow your own path.}
But once again, her thoughts didn’t come out, and she couldn’t convey her response.
The man, as if he had heard Riena's inner thoughts, continued speaking.
"A life without you has no meaning. If I can have only you, I will be satisfied, even if I lose everything else."
{No, don’t do that. You shouldn’t throw away all your wealth and honor because of someone like me. You are far too good for me.}
Even though she knew nothing about the man, Riena mumbled inwardly.
"So, please, Lady Riena."
The man took Riena’s hand and pressed his lips to the back of it. As his sleeve slid up, her arm, covered in bruises and wounds, was revealed. Instinctively, Riena tried to pull down her sleeve to hide the wounds, but the man was quicker.
He carefully touched the area around the wound, which had just begun to heal, with his thumb. Drip Drip. The man’s tears, which he couldn’t hold back, fell mournfully onto the wound.
It was strange. Even though it was clearly a dream, every sensation felt vividly real. The warmth of his touch on the back of her hand, his unsteady breath, and the cold tears falling onto her wound.
It was as if this wasn’t a dream but reality.
"All I ask is for you to say that you will leave with me."
{I can’t do that. I will only ruin your life.}
"If you refuse again this time, I’ll kidnap you if I have to."
{Please don’t do that, I beg you.}
The words she couldn’t say vanished like bubbles.
{I must tell you. Even if I can’t be with you, please don’t cry because of me.}
What expression will you have if I say that?
But there was no way to know the answer. As soon as she thought that, her vision went dark.
As always, the dream ended, leaving only questions behind.
***
As soon as she opened her eyes, hot tears flowed down her temples. Realizing that she had dreamt again, Riena took a deep breath while staring at the familiar ceiling.
But even after taking deep breaths and biting her lips, the intense emotions wouldn’t settle down.
Because of a man she saw only in her dreams. A man whose name, status, or even existence she couldn’t confirm.
Even knowing it was an irrational response, Riena cried every time she dreamt of the man, as if she had lost something precious.
A deep sense of loss covered her entire body, much like when she lost her father, Count Dyke, two months ago. It felt as though someone who had been close to her had left.
She didn’t know why. It had been the same every time she woke from the dream, which had repeated five times since her father’s death.
If only she could at least know why the man was so sad.
Or better yet, if only that man were a real person. Why does he exist only in her dreams?
If he was someone she could never meet, he shouldn’t look at her with such intense eyes. He shouldn’t plead with such a desperate voice.
Today, as well, Riena pulled the covers over her head and cried silently.
She didn’t even know where these emotions came from. All she knew was that the fact that she couldn’t meet the man made her unbearably sad.
***
"Lady Dyke is so docile, which is nice. My first wife had such a strong personality that I couldn’t grow attached to her."
A man with brown hair, Viscount Rotman, licked his lips as he looked Riena up and down. It seemed he was entirely unaware that Riena’s stillness was because she didn’t want to deal with him.
Before her father’s death, Riena had been someone who would ride her horse wildly across the fields, an act her stepsister Bianca called “reckless.”
The word “docile” had never suited her. Yet, she endured this humiliation only to avoid bringing shame to her father, Count Dyke.
Her father, a knight who valued honor, always taught Riena not to tolerate injustice, but also not to harm others needlessly.
No matter how much Viscount Rotman displeased her with his rude remarks, he was a guest at the Dyke household. As a member of the family, it would be improper to show anger toward a guest.
But as Riena remained silent, Viscount Rotman began to cross more boundaries.
"By the way, it would be nice if you could change out of that dress."
He clicked his tongue as he eyed her clothing.
The dress she wore was a black one that covered her from neck to wrist to ankle, leaving not a single spot exposed. It was a mourning dress, worn to honor her father.
Riena glanced down at her attire and then spoke calmly.
"It hasn’t been long since my father passed away. As his child, I must fulfill my duty."
Her tone was as if she were stating an undeniable fact, like the sun rising in the east and setting in the west.
But considering that the Countess Dyke, her daughter Bianca, and Riena’s half-brother Aaron, who sat across from her, were all dressed in bright, colorful clothes, her words were indeed contradictory.
Thus, her words served not only to reprimand Viscount Rotman but also to criticize the other family members.
Viscount Rotman’s face turned red with anger, perhaps feeling insulted. With the freckles on his nose, his face resembled a wilted strawberry.
"I’m sorry about Count Dyke’s passing, but it has been two months since the funeral, hasn’t it? The others have already taken off their mourning clothes. If you continue wearing them alone, it only makes the atmosphere in the mansion more somber, doesn’t it?"
The customary mourning period in the Empire was about a month. It wasn’t legally enforced, but social norms dictated it.
The other members of the Dyke family had started wearing colorful clothes as soon as that month had passed, as if they had been waiting for it. Unlike Riena, who was still immersed in sorrow, they didn’t seem to mourn the Count’s death much.
Even so, wearing mourning clothes for more than a month wasn’t considered improper. In fact, in the Empire, the longer one wore mourning clothes, the more it was seen as a sign of deep love for the deceased, so Riena’s behavior should have earned her praise as a filial daughter.
In truth, the late Emperor wore mourning clothes for a whole year after losing his deeply beloved Empress. Compared to that, two months was short.
Yet, to say something so reproachful! She inwardly scoffed and spoke again.
"Well, it seems my mother didn’t have much affection for my father."
This time, the Countess’s face turned red. Riena shrugged at her, as if to say she had done nothing wrong, and took a bite of the lemon sherbet that had been served for dessert.
Although the sherbet was tart enough to make her eyes close, her own bitterness seemed to dull her taste, making her feel as though it had no flavor at all.
***
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