Under a sky so clear it almost felt exaggerated, we walked side by side through the mansion.
Sunlight poured in through the tall windows lining the corridor, bathing the marble floor in warm gold.
Our footsteps echoed softly as Viola walked a step ahead of , her mood visibly lifted, as if the brightness of the dream itself had rubbed off on her.
"This is the armory!" she said, stopping abruptly and throwing the doors open with a flourish. "It’s full of really cool weapons!"
Her eyes sparkled as she turned to look at , clearly expecting a reaction.
Behind her enthusiasm, I glanced around the mansion with a faint sense of unease.
...This place feels familiar.
The layout, the spacing between the halls, even the way the light flowed through the corridors—it all reminded strongly of the Vermoore family mansion.
Too strongly.
’Are noble mansions just... like this everywhere?’
Or was this dream borrowing pieces from sowhere it shouldn’t?
Before I could dwell on it too much, Viola tugged at my sleeve again.
"Over there is the training ground!" she said excitedly, pointing down another corridor. "That’s where the knights train every day!"
"I was thinking maybe we could go sowhere else first," I replied carefully.
"But—" she hesitated, her shoulders drooping just a little. "The training ground is really big... and really cool..."
She fidgeted with her fingers, clearly disappointed, trying—and failing—to hide it.
I sighed inwardly.
If there really was an exit hidden sowhere in this dream, it probably wouldn’t be in a wide-open training yard. Still... ignoring her like that felt wrong.
"...Alright," I said at last. "Let’s go there too."
Her face instantly lit up.
"Really? Yes! Follow !"
She grabbed my hand without waiting for an answer and started pulling along the corridor.
"Oh, should I hold your hand so you don’t get lost?" she added cheerfully.
I stared at our linked hands for a mont.
...What does she think of ?
"There’s no way I’d get lost," I muttered. "I’m not a child."
I’m not Berno, who can’t tell left from right to save his life.
But she only laughed, squeezing my hand a little tighter, as if she hadn’t heard at all.
"...I’ll just follow you," I said with a quiet sigh.
"Hehe, okay!"
Led by Viola, we soon arrived at the training ground.
The wide yard was filled with the sharp sounds of clashing steel and labored breathing. Soone was already sparring there.
"Haah...!!"
"Co at with everything you’ve got!!"
"Shut up...!!"
"Is that how you talk to your brother? Sounds like you’re asking for another beating."
"Kuhek...!"
A dull, heavy impact rang out as one boy was sent flying backward, skidding across the ground.
My eyes widened.
...What?
Standing in the center of the yard were Julian and Louis.
No—younger Julian and Louis.
Their bodies were smaller, their movents rougher, but there was no mistaking them.
The two continued their brutal exchange without holding back, wooden swords crashing together again and again.
The scene felt too vivid, too real.
My chest tightened.
Wait. This is supposed to be Viola’s dream, isn’t it?
Then why am I seeing their past?
I froze when Julian and Louis suddenly appeared.
The scene unfolding before my eyes—
Every detail matched exactly with the mories I had seen inside Louis’s mind.
Viola couldn’t have witnessed this. There was no way she could know these events.
Which left only one possible explanation.
...Are the dreams connected?
I hadn’t entered her dream.
Instead, her dream and mine had beco entangled.
That ant Viola and I were sharing the sa dream.
Is that even possible?
My thoughts spiraled into chaos.
That would explain everything—the strange inconsistencies, the subtle sense of familiarity that had followed from the mont I arrived.
The paintings lining the corridors, the artworks decorating the walls... all of them were things I recognized.
That was why none of it had felt out of place.
But still...
Can sothing like this really happen?
The realization left deeply unsettled.
This wasn’t just a dream anymore.
It was sothing far more abnormal—and far more dangerous than I’d ever imagined.
"What’s wrong...?"
Viola noticed standing there, my expression stiff, and looked up at with clear worry in her eyes.
"Do you know who those two are?" I asked quietly.
"No?" She tilted her head. "I’ve never seen them before."
Her imdiate answer only deepened the pressure building inside my skull.
So she really doesn’t know them.
Then my hypothesis... might be right after all.
A dull throb spread through my temples, pulsing in ti with my thoughts.
How did things end up unfolding like this?
No matter how I tried to piece it together, the story refused to make sense.
"Are you feeling unwell?" Viola asked again, her voice close now.
I could hear her speaking beside , but her words barely registered. My thoughts were racing too fast, tangling over one another until my head felt like it might split open.
I needed to stop.
Even for a mont.
"Is there sowhere we can rest for a bit?" I finally asked.
"How about my room?" she said quickly. "I’ll make tea too!"
Under normal circumstances, I would’ve declined without hesitation.
But right now, I didn’t have the luxury to worry about propriety—or anything else, really.
"Alright."
She seed relieved as she led the way.
"This is my room," Viola said, pushing the door open.
I followed her inside.
A small, quietly furnished room greeted us. The colors were muted, the decorations minimal, everything neat and unassuming.
Too unassuming.
It was hard to believe this belonged to a noble lady. There were no extravagant ornants, no excessive decorations—just the bare essentials, arranged with care.
For so reason, that simplicity unsettled more than grandeur ever could.
It felt less like a bedroom...
And more like a place soone stayed in temporarily.
Just as I was about to sit down and catch my breath on a chair tucked away in the corner—
"Viola!!"
A thunderous roar shook the room.
The sound ca from beyond the door, heavy and furious.
The mont Viola heard it, her body stiffened. She grabbed the hem of my clothes with both hands, her grip tight enough to wrinkle the fabric.
Her face drained of color.
This was the first ti I had ever seen Viola like this.
Whoever owned that voice... it was soone she feared deeply.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Heavy footsteps drew closer, each one pounding against the floor like a warning. Then, without any restraint, the door was shoved open.
Soone stepped inside.
A massive figure lood in the doorway, his body broad and covered in thick hair—
...A gorilla?
No. A man who looked like one.
His towering fra filled the room with oppressive pressure. Viola shrank back, trembling, her eyes glistening as if she were on the verge of tears.
"Where the hell have you been?!" he bellowed.
"F-Father..." Viola’s voice ca out barely above a whisper.
The man advanced, rage twisting his features into sothing frightening. Every step he took made the air feel heavier.
I finally understood who he was.
Count Amorin.
Viola’s father.
And judging by the way she clung to , this wasn’t just a strict parent standing before us—it was the source of her deepest fear.
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