I'm being drawn into a dream again.
The dizzying sensation lasts a long ti, and when the dizziness subsides, I slowly open my eyes. I've been drawn into this place several tis before, so I'm no longer startled as I used to be.
A very lavish mansion, but not exactly luxurious; it looks more like the house of a nouveau riche. The grand staircase adorned with portraits of the family's ancestors suggests nobility, but the lack of elegance implies it's not a high-ranking noble house.
In fact, in the Middle Ages, the genuinely happy nobles were often those of this class. Higher ranks ant more responsibilities. Lower nobles had fewer duties and more privileges. Of course, only those with lesser ambitions and desires were truly content.
There's a large white vase in the center of the grand living room.
To call it a vase feels a bit of an understatent. It was the size of an adult bathtub.
Two won dressed as maids bring in a large bouquet of flowers and fill the vase with water before arranging them.
I sneak up behind them and clap in front of their faces.
But they show no reaction. It seems I am invisible to them again.
I take a good look around the house.
It would be foolish not to realize, after being drawn into dreams so many tis, in which era I am and whom I might et.
"There must be Toulouse Lautrec sowhere in this house."
I should find him, but there are eight doors visible from the living room alone. Do I need to search all these rooms?
Then, the older maid speaks while arranging the flowers.
"The master will be back soon, hurry up."
"Yes, I'll finish soon."
The younger maid responds and moves quickly. While busy trimming the flowers, the young maid asks,
"Is it ti to give Petit Bijou his dicine? May I go for a mont?"
I overhear the conversation and suddenly turn my head at the young maid's words.
In his childhood, Toulouse, born into a noble family, was adorably cute, and his nickna was 'Petit Bijou,' aning 'little jewel.'
The middle-aged maid quickly scans the surroundings and warns her,
"Don't ever ntion that nickna in front of the master, or you might be punished."
Realizing her mistake, the young maid closes her mouth and bows her head. The older maid gestures for her to go quickly.
"I'll handle things here, so go and take care of it."
"Okay."
The young maid runs off to the kitchen.
She arranges the dicine and water on a tray and hurries up the stairs. Based on my past experiences, I know I cannot exert any physical force in dreams. Naturally, I can't open doors either. I need to wait for the maid to enter his room and follow her in.
The maid walks fast through the long corridor on the second floor.
So many rooms in this corridor, unseen from the first floor. Do people live in all these rooms?
I follow her quickly and notice she's heading to a room at the very end of the dark corridor, where the light from the windows doesn't reach.
She knocks on the door.
"Young master, it's ti for your dicine."
I stand close behind her, ready to follow her in. When there's no response from inside, the maid knocks again.
"Young master? Is sothing wrong?"
After a mont, a dark voice answers from inside.
"No."
"May I co in?"
"Yes."
As the maid opens the door and enters, I quickly slip in and am amazed by the sight inside.
'Wow.'
Paints and brushes, half-finished paintings on ssy canvases, and pristine white new canvases. A room filled with various art supplies. As expected of a rich young master, he seems to use art materials lavishly.
It must be nice, truly enviable. What if I too had been born into a wealthy household and could have used art supplies so freely as a child? There were tis even during my college years when I couldn't bring the materials the school asked for. After paying rent and living expenses with the money I earned from part-ti jobs, I had nothing left.
It was Yeongju who helped then.
She quietly shared her own materials with .
Feeling a mix of envy and a bit of jealousy, I walked further into the room.
But the mont I saw Toulouse, taking his dicine given by the maid, I realized how foolish my envy and jealousy were.
Toulouse, sitting in a chair.
A blanket lay on his legs, but it couldn't hide the severely short stature of his lower body compared to his torso. His head was large, and his upper body was heavy, but his lower body appeared far too short and weak.
Dwarf.
Toulouse seed to be in his late teens by his face but appeared much smaller than the young maid. With a dark expression, he returned the cup of water to her and asked.
"Father?"
"He hasn't returned from the hunt yet."
Toulouse stared intently at the curtained window. The quick-witted maid asked.
"Would you like to be by the window?"
"Please."
The maid brought another chair and placed it in front of the window, then helped Toulouse move there. Standing up, Toulouse was only about as tall as the maid's shoulder.
Toulouse, in a white shirt and black trousers, wearing round glasses with a string, would have looked quite pitiable if not for the expensive items he wore.
Toulouse, clinging to the maid as he limped.
Without showing any strain, the maid settled him in the chair by the window and examined his legs.
"Do your legs still ache without reason?"
"..."
As she massaged Toulouse's legs, she said, "Both legs broke within a year, it's natural to be in pain. Call anyti it hurts too much, young master."
"Thank you."
"It's my duty. Ah, the master will return soon."
"Alright."
After covering his legs again with the blanket, the maid stood up, glanced around the room, looked at several paintings with a pained expression, then left the room.
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