“Hah!”

Ruben gasped as he sat up abruptly, his breath ragged. His chest ached, his heart pounding wildly as if trying to burst free. His clenched fists were damp with cold sweat. In his dilated pupils, the familiar darkness seeped in. It had been a dream.

A dream.

As soon as he realized this, Ruben turned his head. His eyes, not yet adjusted to the darkness, found nothing. The moment stretched endlessly, and he could not bear to wait. With trembling hands, he reached out across the bed. His shallow breaths were uneven as if he might be swallowed by the darkness. His heart raced, yet he felt hollow as if his organs had vanished. A wave of terror overtook him.

Then it happened. His groping fingers brushed against another’s hair. It was as though he had grasped a lifeline. His fingers trailed up, and soon, he felt the warmth of soft skin.

Unable to stop, Ruben leaned closer. Between the silence of the room, steady breaths filled the void.

Ah, it was a dream.

It, indeed, was just a dream. Relief flooded his chest. At last, the breath he had been holding escaped in a long exhale. Like someone pulled from deep waters, his ragged breathing gradually calmed. Ruben lay there, gazing endlessly at the woman beside him. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, her image became clearer: wavy crimson hair, a strikingly beautiful face even with her eyes closed, and a delicate neckline leading to her slender shoulders.

It was her. The new kingdom’s great founding queen. The liberator of witches. The most noble woman on the continent. But to him, she was beyond all such accolades—simply a living, breathing person so heartbreakingly beloved it hurt to even behold her. Helia Feron Rovna.

“Phew…”

Ruben finally took stock of his condition, though his gaze remained fixed on her. He ran a weary hand over his face, brushing away the cold sweat that dampened his brow.

He knew what this nightmare was. The story was always the same. In the dream, he lost her yet still lived on—because he could not die. Only after enduring that endless torment would he awaken. It was an old, recurring nightmare.

It repeated endlessly, and that was the most horrifying part. He would lose her every time, despair, and collapse thousands of times over. He should have grown used to it by now and realized it was just a dream. Yet, the nightmare always felt cruelly fresh. So, he would find himself running toward her again every time, only to lose her.

Thrashing like someone consumed by fever, he would awaken, and like a man obsessed, he would reach out for her. He wouldn’t stop there. He feared he might have lost his mind, that he was holding her lifeless body, unable to let go. So, he would reach out to confirm her warmth and feel her steady breathing, and only then could he finally be at ease.

This was his life.

“It’s still the middle of the night.”

Though he had endured what felt like an eternity in the dream, the reality was that only a few hours had passed since falling asleep. The morning was still far off. But Ruben knew he would not sleep again tonight. Fear of losing her again, even in a dream, would keep his eyes open. All he could do was remind himself, over and over, that this was reality.

Ruben swept his gaze across the window before fixing it back on Helia. Her face, deeply immersed in slumber, looked so serene that it reassured him that the nightmare he had been wandering through existed only within him, a falsehood of his own making. This is my reality, he repeated to himself, forcing his muddled, despair-ridden self to return to the present.

When was it? A similar night when he had awakened from a nightmare, realizing she was not beside him, and frantically searched the palace. The sensation of his bare feet pounding against the marble floors still sent shivers down his spine. He hadn’t even noticed the attendants trying to stop him. All that mattered was finding her. How many doors had he thrown open in a frenzy? Only when he finally found her, breathing steadily and blinking her eyes in confusion, did he feel relief. Only then did he feel alive.

“……”

Ruben simply stared at Helia, unblinking. On nights plagued by nightmares, that was all he could do. He dared not touch her, afraid he might wake her. He simply endured the arduous night, reminding himself she was alive until the first light of dawn gradually illuminated the room. Until her colors became vivid again.

At times, it felt like the lifeless touch of her skin in his dreams or the crumbling sensation of ash remained on his fingertips. The nightmares were too vivid; in comparison, the deeply sleeping Helia seemed so dreamlike and distant. That was why he could never wholly find solace in reality.

“…Ruben?”

Then it happened. Her closed eyelids lifted slightly, and her brows knitted faintly. It was the movement of living muscles. Soon, her golden eyes, shining in the darkness, searched for him. Ruben was overwhelmed with gratitude. Every breath she took, every time she opened her eyes, every movement of her body was precious to him. There was no way it couldn’t be.

He reached out and gently brushed her hair. Even that was a cautious gesture, lest it disturb her return to sleep.

“Why aren’t you sleeping more?”

“I will. I’m going to, but…”

With an expression that suggested she wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon, she let out a long yawn and shifted her body lazily under the blanket.

“Did I wake you?“

“No, I just thought you might be awake.”

Helia, too, knew about Ruben’s nightmares. Occasionally, she would wake from a light sleep, vaguely aware of an intense sensation pulling her out of her dreams. She realized it was his gaze, checking to ensure she was safe. That wasn’t something she had known for very long.

Since then, she often woke up like this. And without fail, she would meet his eyes. That’s how she knew—on many more nights, he endured those nightmares alone. She was only privy to a fraction of them.

She turned onto her side to face him and tapped twice on his pillow. Understanding her gesture, Ruben chuckled softly and lay down facing her.

“Another nightmare?”

“Yes.”

Helia asked in a low voice, and Ruben answered simply as if there was nothing for her to worry about.

She didn’t know the details of his nightmares. No matter how much she pressed, Ruben never shared them. But Helia had an inkling of what they were about.

She remembered a particular night when sleep eluded her, and she had gone to the study to idly skim through books. Suddenly, there was a commotion outside the study. The hurried sound of footsteps approached, and the door was flung open unceremoniously. Holding the door handle, trembling green eyes scanned the room.

“Ruben?”

She called out to him in puzzlement. His head immediately turned toward her. At that moment, their gazes met, and she saw a man who had utterly crumbled.

As soon as he saw her, the world seemed to restore itself like a miracle. His ragged breathing found its rhythm, and the shivering of a body abandoned in the dead of winter subsided. Tears welled up in his eyes. Amidst the verdant green of a summer forest drenched in rain, his flushed cheeks and reddened eyes seemed like roses. She thought they resembled roses blooming in the heart of winter, and in that moment, she witnessed both the depths of despair and the birth of a miracle.

She had known. She couldn’t not know.

“You didn’t sleep much.”

Her tiny voice was tinged with regret. Naturally, it was. She knew she could never rescue him from his nightmares. They were his alone to endure. The nightmares would continue to haunt him, and only at the edge of despair would he claw his way back to reality.

The only thing she could do was continuously remind him that this was reality. To reassure him: It’s okay. The nightmare is just a nightmare. You haven’t lost me. I’m here by your side, breathing, alive. So it’s okay to stop despairing.

“I’m fine,“ Ruben answered calmly. But both of them knew it wasn’t true. Ruben slowly opened his eyes and took in the sight of Helia again.

In the pitch-black darkness of the night, they could see nothing but each other. Helia gently placed her hand on his face. He closed his eyes, savoring the warmth she offered him. Her hand brushing against his eyes and caressing his cheek was something he welcomed wholeheartedly. Even if, by some unlikely chance, she were to slap him, he would accept it willingly. What he feared more than pain was losing the warmth of her touch.

He thought about himself in the nightmare, a version of him that had lost that warmth. Those days when he lingered in a place neither alive nor dead, barely holding on. The despair that tore through him in the nightmare was too absolute, even if it was all false.

“Come here,“ Helia said, extending her hand toward his head. Ruben buried his face near her chest, making it easier for her to embrace him. She tenderly and lovingly wrapped her arms around the back of his head and slid her fingers through his soft hair, stroking it. If she could share her warmth with him like this, even if she couldn’t pull him out of his nightmares, at least she could make him feel the happiness of the present. That was something only she could do.

Ruben held his breath in her embrace. The soft scent of her skin, her quiet voice, and the sensation of her touch on his hair reaffirmed that she was real. Relief upon relief washed over him, bringing a profound peace that felt like a bottomless abyss he wanted to sink into.

“Ugh.”

Suddenly, Helia tightened her embrace. She hugged him with such force that it was almost as if she were trying to strangle him. Yet Ruben offered no resistance, entrusting himself entirely to her hands. He didn’t care if he couldn’t breathe. He thought he might even be okay if his breath stopped entirely.

But that didn’t happen. Before long, she loosened her grip and looked down at him with a mischievous grin.

“How was that? Did it take your breath away?“

“Not at all,“ Ruben replied curtly. Helia dropped her smile and glared at him playfully.

Sometimes, she would hug him with all her strength, as people do when overcome by emotion. Her strength was barely noticeable for someone like Ruben, whose body had been trained all his life. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if he should help her develop the strength to strangle him properly if she ever wanted to. If she wished for it, he wanted her to be able to do it.

In truth, Ruben would rather die by her hands if she deemed it necessary than see her decide to take her own life as she once had. Losing himself would be far better than losing her. At least then, he wouldn’t have to endure the unbearable agony of her absence.

But the nightmares knew. They knew that losing her would be far more devastating to him than losing himself. That’s why they tormented him with the cruelest possibilities, again and again. That’s what made them nightmares.

“Ruben,“ Helia called as she turned his face back to the pillow, meeting his gaze. Her eyes were calm as they looked into his.

“Yes.“

“You love me, don’t you?”

The question came out of nowhere. Yet his response came just as quickly as he had been waiting.

“I love you.”

Helia smiled in satisfaction, looking thoroughly pleased. Ruben, too, felt content knowing that his love could satisfy her. In truth, just being able to tell her he loved her was enough to make him happy. In his nightmares, he couldn’t even bring himself to voice his feelings for her. It had been that harrowing.

I probably won’t ever escape these nightmares. Over and over, I’ll lose you, and over and over, I’ll live through an existence worse than death. And then, helplessly, I’ll wake to this reality—so violently kind, so achingly gentle. A reality where you are alive, where I can love you.

In an instant, he oscillated between heaven and hell. That’s how countless nights had passed. That’s how countless nights would continue to pass. With eyes that would never fully close, he endured the unending darkness. Why does the night feel so unbearably long for those who remain awake? Yet, what could he not endure with joy if she was there?

“I’m going back to sleep,“ Helia murmured, her eyes fluttering shut. Soon, she surrendered herself to slumber again.

“Have sweet dreams,“ Ruben said softly.

“Mm. I will.”

I send you a wish I know can never come true. And you nod willingly. How overwhelming that gesture is to me. How utterly endearing it is. Unable to suppress my feelings, I confess as if spilling a truth I can no longer contain.

“I love you.”

You could never know how grateful I am to be able to say those words. I hope you never do. I want that nightmare to remain mine alone. Even as I desperately search for you within it, there is comfort in knowing that it’s a fever only I suffer from. That even in that nightmare, I am the only one left behind, the only one in anguish, the only one consumed. The fact that I alone bear the pain of losing you—how much solace that brings me. The fact that I alone writhe in regret—how much relief that is.

So, if it means your nights can remain tranquil, I will gladly surrender myself to the nightmare. If burning myself as an offering ensures your peace, I will set myself aflame without hesitation. I have no other wish but that.

“Me too,“ Helia murmured, smiling faintly.

Soon, the soft, even sound of her breathing followed. On a midsummer night, still wide awake, the man gazed at her repeatedly. He repeated this countless times, but it always felt as new as the first. Being the only one awake was a little lonely, yet it was overwhelmingly blissful.