However, Hyacinth had never been to the north…

She was so perplexed that she grabbed Seina’s sleeve and asked if she had ever been to the north. Seina’s worried expression indirectly answered her, making Hyacinth scratch her cheek.

Every moment felt like déjà vu. It wasn’t welcome at all.

It felt like her nightmares were crossing the boundary from the subconscious into consciousness. She came to the north to remember her dreams accurately, not to turn unreality into reality. Truly.

On the first day, Hyacinth explored Bremlin diligently but locked herself in her room the next day, claiming fatigue from the long journey as a convenient excuse.

She heard that Ethan Erentis had come to see her, but she declined appropriately. She feared that meeting him would intensify the strange sensations she was experiencing.

But that night,

A more detailed nightmare engulfed Hyacinth.

She saw the silver-haired man in her dream again. He was emotionally cornering her under a strong misunderstanding. Injustice, resentment, anger, and sorrow.

All those complex emotions burst out at once, causing Hyacinth to cry even in her sleep. They were moments of such sorrow that she couldn’t help but cry. It was a dream that made her instantly understand why she hated that man.

Thus, on the third day,

Hyacinth woke up before dawn, thanks to the nightmare.

Watching the rising red sun, she straightened her posture. She felt fortunate yet complicated, as if her premonition that things would change once she came to the north had come true. Her heart was racing, revealing countless stories.

Am I scared?

Hyacinth asked herself and immediately answered that she was scared.

As the darkness of the room gradually brightened, Hyacinth tried to organize her thoughts as calmly as possible amidst the lingering effects of the nightmare.

Having left Tyche’s court, her thoughts were much broader now. In Tyche, she had never pondered at night as much as she had to concentrate during the day. She never really thought about why she had so many dreams. She only focused on connecting dream after dream to create one huge story.

When you think about it, isn’t it strange?

Sure, one can have frequent nightmares, but can all those nightmares be connected into one story? Without some sort of magical intervention, is that possible? If so, who wielded such mystical power, and for what reason?

For the first time, Hyacinth focused not on the results but on the cause. Her intuition kept pointing to the silver-haired man.

Duke Trisel, Ethan Erentis. The great lord of the north, said to have inherited the blood of fairies.

Should she go to him, explain her dreams in detail, and ask what he had done to her? But he might be innocent.

Listening to the early morning birdsong, Hyacinth thought of the man who was desperately clinging to her. Her insides churned as if a small fire had started burning within.

She had no idea when this fire had ignited.

* * *

After meticulously having breakfast, Hyacinth left her room, unlike the previous day when she stayed in bed all day, and started moving around. If she didn’t know what her subconscious was trying to tell her, it seemed like a good idea to go with the flow.

So she literally stopped thinking and moved ‘wherever her feet took her.’ She climbed stairs, then went back down the same stairs. She walked briskly through corridors and closely examined the statues and paintings in between.

As she walked diligently, she found something interesting.

The servants guarding Bremlin. Dressed neatly, their expressions stiffened and they lowered their heads as soon as they saw her. Then, realizing belatedly that she was the honored guest, Lady Laurel, they looked flustered.

It was clear whom they mistook her for.

Bridget Erentis. Standing in front of the corridor on the third floor, Hyacinth slowly nodded her head. Yes, they must have mistaken her for Bridget Erentis. That explained why their expressions stiffened.

The woman who openly abused her stepson even in public in Tyche. It wasn’t hard to imagine what she might have done here in Bremlin, where there were no other nobles.

Seeing the servants’ hostility towards the woman, it seemed she had spread her wickedness indiscriminately.

The north must hate the red-haired woman.

“Tsk.”

Hyacinth clicked her tongue and pouted.

But she couldn’t deny the thought that came to her mind. It’s human nature to flinch when someone resembles a person they dislike. Moreover, how common is ‘a red-haired woman’? No, this intense red was a characteristic of Hener.

Discriminating against someone based on their hair color is too much. But I understand. I really do.

After pouting her lips a few more times, Hyacinth started walking briskly again. This time, she wanted to go a little higher.

If you want to go up, you should go up!

Even if wandering around someone else’s residence might be rude, she had received direct permission from Ethan Erentis. From the moment she got off the carriage and entered Bremlin, Ethan had given her a promise.

‘Please make yourself at home, lady.’
‘Thank you.’
‘…Do as you wish, my lady.’

His last words were almost a whisper.

As she climbed the stairs briskly, Hyacinth tilted her head this way and that. These stairs felt familiar too. There should be a crack at the end over there, she thought.

Slowly climbing the stairs, Hyacinth found the crack as she had guessed.

How strange. She shook her head and bent down. She traced the flaw with her finger. The chilling feeling that had given her goosebumps was now just fascinating after experiencing it several times.

Straightening her back, she climbed the stairs again. Familiarity was guiding her steps.

After climbing a few more steps, Hyacinth finally stopped in front of a standing door. Unlike the other doors in Bremlin, this one was securely locked with a padlock.

Won’t it open?

Just as she reached out her hand, a loud noise of hurried footsteps approached, and a man’s strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back. Before she could even be surprised, she was swallowed into a strong embrace.

The scent of snow and winter. The smell of the north.

…It was that man.

The Duke’s head must have been lowered, as she felt weight on her shoulder. She could actually see the corner of his ashen hair in her peripheral vision.

Hyacinth couldn’t breathe properly.

In fact, if she were a noble lady, she would know what to do in this situation. She would either fly into a rage and slap him or indignantly accuse him of trying to ruin her honor and then tell her male relatives.

Hyacinth discarded all those realistic choices and just stood still. She remembered the cute yellow flower Ethan Erentis had timidly given her. The yellow was so lovely that she thought she could overlook this rudeness once.

“Did you follow me?”

She asked quietly.

A secluded passage that didn’t seem to be frequented by people. It was even a room with a padlock. If he hadn’t been following her all along, he wouldn’t have intervened so precisely just now.

“…This place is forbidden.”

His voice was choked, rough, and hoarse, mixed with a metallic sound, and filled with deep pain.

Why? What could possibly…

I didn’t die here or anything.

Finishing that sentence, Hyacinth bit her lip. Her heart was pounding as if it would explode, filling her with anxiety. Why did that sentence come out? How did I finish that sentence?

Her throat hurt. She felt weak all over.

She didn’t know how he interpreted her silence, but the Duke’s arm tightened slightly. The declaration of his will to never let her go. His earnestness.

Fortunately or unfortunately, he wasn’t crying. Judging by the fact that her shoulder wasn’t wet. Hyacinth took a few deep breaths and placed her hand on the arm encircling her waist. The intense obsession that felt almost red-hot subsided, and the man reluctantly let her go.

Hyacinth Hener stepped out of his embrace and faced Ethan Erentis fully.

“This place is forbidden.”

After a long silence, the man spoke first.

Instead of asking where this place was, Hyacinth calmly responded.

“I apologize for my rudeness.”

“It’s not rude. As the lady wishes…”

But you blocked this place from me. With that intention, she looked at the Duke, and the man with ashen hair visibly drooped. He lowered his head and started staring blankly at his toes.

“Do you wish to go in?”

“…No, it’s fine.”

“…”

“I’ll go down now.”

Ethan quickly offered his arm to escort her. As she walked arm in arm with him, Hyacinth had a premonition.

That room. It will appear in my dream tonight.

* * *

In the dream, Hyacinth was sitting on the windowsill.

Despite the dizzying height, she didn’t mind at all. She sat upright, looking down below.

A silver-haired man was walking through the garden. In one arm, he was tenderly holding a small coffin.

The baby had died.

Hyacinth had no choice but to acknowledge this cruel reality. The only being who stayed by her side and comforted her with feather-like movements during the lonely winter had finally left the world.

She saw the man silently digging the ground.

She couldn’t forgive him. Hyacinth thought quietly. What had that man done? Why did her child, born of the noble blood of the ducal family and the royal family, have to die so early?

A young life leaving before even being named. They say it’s common.

But wasn’t there a specific reason her baby died? A reason she could never forgive.

So she did,

Leaving a curse on the man, she threw herself to death.