RTP 08

Chapter 8

Since becoming aware of my past life, I’ve been able to see the world in my dreams.

Perhaps because I still retained the memory of once having sight, I never dreamed in black and white, nor did I ever have dreams made up only of sound.

That’s why—

It didn’t take me long to realize that wandering through snow-covered mountains in nothing but a dress torn by the north wind was just a dream.

And yet, even in this dream, I couldn’t escape the biting cold that gnawed at my skin. The fierce wind seeped into my very bones, freezing even my eyelashes until my vision glittered with shards of ice.

I clenched my teeth together as I pressed forward, with no signpost to guide me.

“So cold… it’s too cold.”

How could I possibly endure this chill? Where could I go to feel the warmth of a fire’s glow?

No matter how tightly I hugged myself or rubbed my arms, the goosebumps would not fade.

It was then, while forcing my trembling legs to keep moving step by step without destination, that I spotted it—

A warm light flickering in the distance.

It was a rounded orb, glowing amber.

It was nearly half my own size, radiating warmth that spread outward from its center to its edges.

I hurried forward and wrapped my arms around it.

“So warm…”

The moment I clutched the orb tightly, the freezing cold vanished as though it had never been. The orb’s warmth thawed my heart, which had been sluggish and numb from the chill.

It wasn’t a scorching, molten heat like lava—it was the perfect, comforting warmth, pulsing gently in my arms.

Its brightness was almost like the sun.

And yet, strangely… there was something familiar about its energy. More precisely, it felt like a pure force, as if it were cleansing the stains clinging to my soul.

“What in the world… is this?”

I stirred awake from the dream, uneasy.

First, the pillow beneath my head—cotton was never this firm. And the sensation of the sheets brushing against my skin was completely different from what I remembered.

It wasn’t soft and flowing like waves, but rough and scratchy.

What? This isn’t my room?

All my senses reported things that didn’t make sense. But what puzzled me most was that what I was holding felt firm and warm.

Almost as if I were nestled against a man’s chest.

And instead of the familiar “sunshine” scent of my pillow, I caught the faint fragrance of mint. Even when I slowly opened my eyes, darkness still greeted me.

The thing I held remained in my arms. A single possibility flashed through my mind—and I couldn’t stop myself from voicing it aloud.

“…Russell?”

I muttered his name blankly, without honorifics.

He fell silent for a moment, then the sound of pages turning reached me as he spoke nonchalantly.

“…So your sleeping habit is seeking out men?”

“Whaaaaat?!”

With a shriek bordering on a scream, I scrambled backward in a panic. They say dreams reflect one’s heart, but right now I desperately wanted to deny that.

Russell let out a sigh and closed his book with a soft thud. A moment later, I heard the mattress dip, telling me he had sat down at the edge of the bed.

But then… why was my right hand still warm?

No—first I needed to figure out where exactly I was.

“Where… is this?”

Embarrassment burned all the way up to the root of my tongue, making it hard to string words together. I worried that Russell must think me pitiful.

“My room.”

“…What?”

The word slipped out of me in shock.

And my cheeks blazed so hot it felt like they might burst.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. I didn’t lay a finger on you.”

That made sense. Having lost my sight, my other senses had sharpened—if he had touched me, no matter how frail I was, I would have noticed and woken.

I racked my memory to piece things together. I remembered waiting until His Majesty the Emperor and Russell left the drawing room…

But after that, my memory was hazy.

I recalled fragments of Russell and the priest speaking, but not the details.

In any case, since this was Russell’s room, it was better for me to leave. I started crawling toward the edge of the bed to slip away.

“My apologies. I’ll leave right—ahh!”

My hand slipped off the mattress. Just as a strange weightlessness overcame me and I braced for the familiar sting of pain—

I caught the faint scent of mint.

Russell had caught me.

It didn’t take long to realize.

“You shouldn’t push yourself. The priest said you’re not suffering from anything serious—it’s just layers of exhaustion piled up.”

“B-but…”

“Worried about appearances? We’re engaged, after all. Spending a night here doesn’t matter.”

My mind froze. Right. I had been introduced to the Emperor as his fiancée.

Now that I had met His Majesty, there was no denying it—I was officially the fiancée of the Duke of Glacies.

“Am I truly going to become the duchess of this castle?”

The thought sat uncomfortably in me, like wearing ill-fitting clothes. Perhaps sensing this, Russell spoke again.

“For now, just lie down.”

“But—”

“Or do you prefer being forced to lie down?”

Unable to argue further, I gave up and lay back on the bed.

I didn’t know anymore.

My forehead was hot, my head pounding, my thoughts sluggish.

It felt as if I had walked straight into a trap Russell had set from the start. And then, in a more serious tone than before, he asked—

“Do you want to annul our engagement, even now?”

I thought carefully before answering.

“It’s not that I want to break it… It’s more that I worry about being unworthy.”

It had taken me two full days of practice just to walk from the dressing room to the drawing room. The thought of having to keep doing that made my temples throb.

“And how do I seem to you?”

Was he really asking that?

Annoyance flared, and I gave a mischievous reply.

“You look like a monster—huge as a bear. With all the terrible rumors, I thought you must be as savage and violent as a beast.”

“…Are the rumors about me in the capital that bad?”

“The north is far away. Of course the stories get twisted.”

Russell fell silent for a long while, as if utterly dumbfounded. Served him right.

“And do you still think so now?”

“…What?”

“I’m asking if you still see me that way.”

His low voice carried the question. Yet there was no trace of hurt or bitterness in it.

“Well… It’s frustrating not to be able to see your face. But—I don’t believe the man who saved me could be bad.”

“You’d better be careful of conmen, then.”

His voice held a hint of amusement. I was too tired to argue, so I changed the subject.

“Come to think of it—you’re His Majesty’s illegitimate son. Why did you come all the way north?”

“I had my reasons. That’s all.”

“Dodging the question, are you…”

“You sound rather sharp. Is that your true nature?”

Oh no. I’d been speaking carelessly, just like I did in my past life. Worried I had offended him, I hurried to cover it up.

“Ah, it’s just… I’m not feeling well, so talking is harder. You know how people get irritable when they’re sick.”

“…I see.”

He rose from his chair and sat heavily on the edge of the bed. The mint scent grew stronger. My heart tensed—what was he planning now?

“Fianna. What do you truly want?”

Before I could ask what he meant, he continued.

“Do you still wish to return to your family? Or do you want to remain here, as duchess?”

The very fact he was asking meant he had noticed my mistrust of him, and my unease at the title of duchess.

My chest clattered with unease.

If I returned to the Ducal House of Lucianos, they would surely scorn me as a useless half-wit who dared come back alive instead of dying in the streets.

I tried to hide my turmoil as I asked him:

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Decide, Fianna.”

He was telling me to make up my mind—

If I would stay here as duchess, then I should trust him.

And if I insisted on doubting him, then at least keep it hidden.

His voice rang deep in my ears.

“Will you return to the House of Lucianos as you are? Or will you remain in the north?”

The grand ducal estate in the capital.

The place that had once been my warm greenhouse… and my prison.

I parted my lips to answer.