“Sometimes I wake up somewhere completely different from where I fell asleep.”

As Karsten continued, Breti felt her heart sink.

“I’m sure I go to sleep in my bed, but more and more often, I wake to find myself sitting at my desk instead.”

“…?”

“It’s been this way ever since the rainy season started. If you know of any herbs that could help with these symptoms, I’d appreciate your advice.”

Breti listened, her expression dazed, before quietly asking,

“Are you saying… you think you might be sleepwalking, Your Grace?”

At her words, Karsten seemed to consider for a moment, then nodded.

“Yes. I think you’re right—it seems to be sleepwalking. I probably can’t fall into a deep sleep because I end up wandering around in my sleep.”

“…”

“And I have no memory at all of what I do while I’m up.”

Listening to Karsten, Breti felt the world go dark before her eyes.

Did that mean the Karsten who had come to her every night hadn’t been aware of it at all? That all those nights their bodies met, it hadn’t been his intention—

‘He doesn’t remember?’

Breti’s face drained of color.

“So, so you’re saying…”

She stammered, and Karsten gave her a puzzled look. But she couldn’t spare a thought for his expression. It felt as if someone had struck her hard from behind.

Whether or not he was truly sleepwalking, one thing was clear: he had no memory of coming to her room at all.

Suddenly, she remembered the first time he had claimed her—the very next day, he’d ridden off to war, cold and distant.

She remembered, too, that night he’d returned, presumed dead, only to seek her out in the library, desperate for her touch.

‘And the next day, he acted as if nothing had happened…’

And for the past week, he’d come to her every night, tormenting her with his need.

But for him to have no memory of any of it…

Karsten said something more, but Breti didn’t hear a word. As the truth sank in, she felt as if her heart had crashed down inside her chest.

“Laterna. Are you listening to me?”

He had always seemed so desperate for her—so feverish in his longing that Breti’s own heart would tremble, wondering if there might be something more behind his hunger for her.

‘Was it foolish to hope, even a little?’

Breti had endured countless nights with that question, holding on and holding on. But in the end…

“Breti.”

“…Yes…!”

It was only when he spoke her name—not Laterna—that she snapped back to herself. Startled, she stared blankly at Karsten.

“What’s wrong?”

His expression was puzzled, as if he truly couldn’t understand her reaction.

“Is something the matter?”

In Breti’s eyes, there was a faint glimmer of resentment.

‘How could you not remember?’

How… After all those nights he’d relentlessly claimed her—how could she now face this man who acted like he knew nothing? The turmoil inside her felt unbearable.

Fighting to steady herself, Breti suddenly rose to her feet.

“I’ll prepare some herbs to help you sleep better. I’ll bring them every night.”

Her jaw trembled with the effort of holding herself together in this bewildering situation. Barely able to move her shaky legs, Breti made for the door.

The short distance to the door felt as though it stretched for miles.

‘What is happening to me? To us?’

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness washed over her, and she nearly collapsed. It was then that Karsten reached out—when had he gotten so close?—and caught her wrist.

“Careful.”

Because of him, she managed not to fall. Karsten gently helped her back to her feet and said,

“If you’re not feeling well—”

Karsten began, but then, startled, let go of her arm.

Breti didn’t have the energy to worry about his reaction. She absently rubbed the spot on her wrist where his hand had been and replied, weakly,

“I’m fine.”

She forced herself to take another step. As she moved toward the door, his sharp voice rang out behind her.

“Why don’t you change the fragrance you use?”

It was an abrupt order to change her perfume.

Breti let out a shallow sigh in her mind. Even now, there was only one answer she could give to anything he said.

“…Yes.”

That was all—the only reply she was allowed to give. She was just someone standing in for his sister, after all. A doll, meant to move at his command.

Breti finally managed to reach the door and stepped out.

Karsten stood where he was, watching her every movement.

‘What is this…?’

The moment the door closed, a look of confusion crossed Karsten’s face. He remembered catching her just before she collapsed—and, as he did, her scent drifted up to him.

But it wasn’t just her scent that lingered.

Suddenly, a vivid image flashed through his mind. He and Breti, tangled together on a bed. And in that vision, he kept calling out a name he didn’t recognize.

“My little bird, Jena.”
“My little bird. My doll.”

The voice was undeniably his own, yet it felt strangely unfamiliar.

“Jena?”

Karsten tilted his head, repeating the strange name.

“What is this…?”

It was a name he was certain he’d never heard before—yet it felt oddly familiar, as if it echoed from somewhere in the distant past.

The more he tried to push the memory away, the clearer it became. And each time the memory flickered with the image of Breti’s delicate voice crying out in pain, a dull ache stirred deep within him.

Trying to shake off the sensation, Karsten cleared his throat and called for Benon.

“Benon, come in.”

Benon entered the room at once.

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“Send for a physician to Laterna’s room.”

“As you wish.”

Karsten couldn’t stop picturing the way Breti had looked—clearly unwell—as she left the room.

‘Why doesn’t she just say something if she’s not feeling well?’

Her persistent silence left him feeling oddly frustrated, almost resentful.

He chased the thought in circles—

‘Why?’

Why did he want so badly for Breti to confide in him?

He was still lost in thought when Benon, not yet having left the room, gently spoke up.

“Your Grace?”

Karsten’s gaze, drifting through his tangled thoughts, landed on Benon.

“What is it?”

“It’s… Ah, never mind.”

Benon looked as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he said nothing at all. He simply bowed his head, offered Karsten a hurried farewell, and left the room.

‘What’s going on?’

Benon never acted like this. The oddness left Karsten feeling uneasy, with a twinge of worry.

Just then, the light in the room began to dim. It had been raining all day, but now, heavy clouds gathered, threatening an even fiercer downpour.

“Ha… d*mn it…”

The darker it got, the more Karsten’s mind seemed to cloud over as well.

💙💙💙 💙💙💙

Night fell, as always.

“My lady, aren’t you going to bed yet?”

Bagi looked at Breti with a hint of concern, noticing she still hadn’t changed for the night.

“No. Bagi, you can go now. I’ll change by myself.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Hearing the firmness in Breti’s voice, Bagi didn’t ask further and quietly left the room.

Once she was alone, Breti hurried to her vanity, opened a drawer, and tucked something from inside into the left sleeve of her gown. Then, wearing a tense expression, she sat on the bed.

“All right.”

Time passed, and at the stroke of midnight—

A knock at the door, and then it swung open.

“Breti.”

Just like every night, Karsten appeared. Despite their conversation earlier, his face was perfectly calm—almost unconcerned.

Breti let out a short, breathless laugh.

“Breti, my little bird.”

He murmured, calling her by her middle name as he approached.

As soon as he drew close, Breti stood up and pressed him back against the wall.

With a dull thud, Karsten’s brow knit in confusion.

“Breti?”

But she ignored his call. Instead, she drew the knife she’d hidden in her left sleeve and pressed it to his throat.

“Who are you, really?”