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Chapter 9
“Your answer sounds strange.”
“Well…… ahem. I hope you stay healthy and vigorous. Even if I’ve only ever seen you from afar.”
“Is that so?”
At Christian’s relieved response, Sonidor asked,
“What kind of person is the Crown Prince? I mean, from a knight’s perspective.”
“Well. I wouldn’t dare judge his vessel, but he is a very benevolent and gentle person. He is kind even to those beneath him, and a warm smile always lingers on his lips.”
“……That’s what I’ve heard, too.”
“He is not a person meant to be wasting time here. That is why your role as a dream artisan is all that much more important.”
If even Riegel Gard, a close confidant of the Emperor, said such a thing, the rumors spreading through society must have been true. Yet, there was no way Sonidor’s ability could be flawed. The madness she had witnessed in Marmel was unequivocally real.
That left only one conclusion: he was suppressing his emotions down to their absolute limits, holding them back with all his might.
“Have you ever had the feeling that the Prince is usually repressing something?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“People often tell you that you’re quite oblivious, don’t they?”
“I do hear that rather often.”
“Never mind, then.”
Sonidor let out a deep sigh and absentmindedly scratched her cheek. Somehow, it seemed she was the only one in the world who knew the Crown Prince was insane.
The most terrifying thing in the world was people who were quietly mad. You could never tell how immense their madness was, how long they had kept it suppressed, or when it would finally erupt.
Can I really dare to speak of this out loud? She asked herself.
If the Crown Prince hadn’t expressed it, there must have been a good reason. Sonidor let out another sigh that felt deep enough to hollow out the earth. As expected, she couldn’t just talk about it carelessly. Besides, her original role was merely to wake Marmel up, not to read his inner thoughts. Moreover, since this had only happened once, it was still too early to state it as a fact.
Right, I might have just misseen it. If an error like this happened even once in a lifetime, well, humans were all flawed creatures prone to mistakes. She desperately tried to compromise with herself to regain peace of mind.
“How is Terry doing?”
“If there were a problem, word would have reached me.”
Fortunately, Terry seemed to be diligently carrying out the commission still. He was probably lying quietly in bed disguised as the Crown Prince. Having always worked so frantically, maybe that guy was enjoying a sort of unexpected vacation? Thinking of thoughts that would make Terry spew a mouthful of curses if he ever heard them, Sonidor reached for a new slice of cake. Before she knew it, nearly half the cake had vanished into her mouth.
Christian, who had been silently watching her eat, slowly parted his lips.
“Can you eat and go right back in? Hopefully, we’ll see some results this time.”
“In my current state, entering the Prince’s dream again is useless. Through the secretary, when are the documents supposed to arrive?”
“At the earliest, tomorrow.”
“Then going in now is pointless, isn’t it? Better to conserve my stamina today and go in tomorrow for the sake of efficiency……”
“Didn’t you say the physician is arriving soon?”
“……Aren’t you being a bit too harsh?”
The Emperor’s words flashed through her mind: Use her until the straws are frayed to shreds, right down to the last scrap. Wait, was that not a metaphor? Did he actually mean they’d bring in a physician to patch her up if she got shredded, only to tear her apart again? If so, she was seriously considering fleeing the premises.
“If there is anything you wish to eat, just name it.”
Sonidor’s lips, which had been poised to spit out an unconditional refusal, paused mid-movement. Anything? She had intended to proudly ask if he thought a mere bit of food could buy her off, but suddenly her mouth started running wild of its own accord. Wait, mouth, have you dared to betray your master’s will?
Blah, blah.
“Marron glacé. Mille-feuille made with raspberries or blueberries, and vanilla crème brûlée.”
Marron……. Remembering up to that point, Christian handed her a piece of paper to write on. Sonidor jotted down the menu she had just rattled off, and then began appending the names of all the other desserts she enjoyed. By the time the list of dessert varieties exceeded twenty-five, the knight forcefully snatched the paper from her hands. After scanning the strings of names that hardly looked like human language, he gave her a silent, curt nod. It meant: If you want to eat them, get back in there yourself.
Sonidor wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then obediently retook her seat and grasped the Crown Prince’s hand.
“Wait, where do you think you’re wiping that dirty hand before thrusting it at the Prince?”
Christian’s brow furrowed slightly as if he had plenty more to say, but she ignored him completely. He would have undoubtedly fussed over making her wash her hands first. Hastily leaning her head against the bed just as before, Sonidor closed her eyes. Then, she stretched her consciousness out long and wide, beginning to search for Marmel’s consciousness.
Just like before, she caught his consciousness with surprising ease.
‘Still black and white, I see.’
Lowering her gaze to her own body within the reconstructed dream, Sonidor swallowed a sigh. Miscalculation my foot. There was no mistake whatsoever in her ability. The problem lay solely in the Crown Prince’s mental state, both then and now. She had been a pure white garden snake earlier, and now she was a flower viper with flashy patterns.
At this point, even without digging for information, she could easily guess that the Crown Prince had a rather fondness for snakes. After all, within a dream, one usually transformed into the most precious, deeply missed entity. But why of all things a snake? Judging by the change in species, it didn’t seem like he kept a pet snake. It was probably because he had no precious, missed beings in his life, causing his mind to default to a snake he reasonably liked.
To not like a single human being, and the only thing he favored being a flower viper whose neck you could wring with one hand? At this point, Sonidor couldn’t help but doubt not just Marmel’s mental state, but his very humanity. Given his status, countless people must have died around him.
Is there truly not a single person among them whom he misses? Truly?
‘That would be troublesome.’
Letting out a groan of distress, Sonidor looked around. Being plunged back into total color-blindness after experiencing a vibrant world made distinguishing her surroundings extremely difficult. The only saving grace was that setting the time to night didn’t make things look all that different from day. Though, if anything, the problem was that the atmosphere was just vastly more gloomy and hair-raising. It was a tragedy born of a simple train of thought: I almost got sliced to pieces by Marmel when I set it to daytime earlier, so let’s go with night this time.
After twisting her head this way and that in prolonged observation, she realized this place was a palace corridor standing before someone’s door. No matter how far she tilted her head upward, the two gigantic, heavily embossed double doors seemed endless. Perhaps it looked that way simply because her eye level had been reduced all the way down to the floor.
With movements that were now quite familiar, she slithered forward. In dreams, the device of a ‘door’ carried profound significance. Especially the door to a deeply personal space like one’s own bedroom. Perhaps hidden truths or inner feelings were locked away behind it.
However, the tightly closed door swung open smoothly, as if it had been waiting for her to approach. Just like how she had quickly found the Crown Prince’s consciousness, the door opening as though awaiting someone’s arrival filled Sonidor with suspicion.
A thick fog rolled in. She stopped slithering, looked around, and flicked her tongue. The mist was so blindingly white that nothing else was visible. But soon, dissipating in an instant like steam, a figure flooded into Sonidor’s field of vision.
It was Marmel. Lounging lazily against the windowsill, he tilted his head. His snow-white hair looked as dark as if it had been stained by the darkness outside the window.
“We meet again. A flower viper this time, is it?”
Meeting her eyes, he spoke briefly. Even though the species of the snake had changed, he seemed to recognize her instantly. She could only harbor more bewilderment in her mind. Marmel reached a hand out toward the snake, which remained frozen in place, hissing softly.
“What business do you have in my paradise? Roaming about as you please.”
He was calling this place a paradise. Was he being serious? Sonidor wondered if Marmel even knew the dictionary definition of paradise. Wasn’t this closer to an apocalyptic landscape? Everyone else seemed to have chanted mind-control dozens of times in this dream, and yet.
“Besides, you aren’t something I created.”
‘Created?’
She asked herself again inwardly. Created? While it was true that this world was constructed based on all the sleeper’s information, you couldn’t just create things at your own will.
‘Does that mean he’s lucid dreaming?’
She had heard tales of people who experienced lucid dreams. She’d been told that when someone was aware they were dreaming, they tended to experience dreams that felt far more real than reality itself. And if that awareness deepened, they could act and wield things however they wished. This was her first time actually seeing it.
That would mean this wasn’t the Crown Prince’s subconscious, but a world he consciously created.
‘Then he really isn’t cursed by the tribesmen after all.’
He was simply stubborn, refusing to wake up. Of all things…….
Sonidor had desperately hoped this wasn’t a curse, but even as a sense of relief washed over her upon learning it wasn’t a real curse, something surged up fiercely from within. Because of this sleepyhead Crown Prince, she had been yanked out of her peaceful daily routine and had her life threatened—what on earth was this? Wake up, O Crown Prince. Do you realize that dozens, perhaps hundreds, or thousands of lives are hanging by a thread because of you right now?
“A snake, hm…… well, nothing wrong with that. I rather like them.”
When his eyes had been closed she hadn’t realized it at all, but with his expression blank, he carried a remarkably chilling aura. After staring down at her for a long while, Marmel tilted his head as the delicately upturned corners of his eyes curved into a sweet smile. The image of pure holiness instantly transformed. Just like how things clear, transparent, and bright are most easily stained by the dark, it was a smile of decadence and debauchery, utterly devoid of the ‘benevolence’ Christian had spoken of.
“Ah, yes. If it’s you, you can answer. As it happens, I had something I wanted to ask.”
Marmel spoke as he carefully lifted the stiffened Sonidor onto his palm. To keep from falling, she had no choice but to coil her body tightly around his wrist. Since he didn’t seem to have any intent to harm her, staying still and watching how the situation unfolded was her best bet, yet she trembled with fear, unsure what erratic action he might take next.
At that moment, a maid wearing a uniform approached Marmel carrying a tray topped with a single fruit. When she looked closely, wondering when the maid had even appeared, the woman had no face above her neck. Her head had been severed extremely cleanly. Judging by the fresh flesh sprouting along the cut surface as if a long time had passed since the decapitation, not a single drop of blood leaked out. She simply looked like a headless doll. Shuddering at that grotesque sight, Sonidor trembled.
