Awakening from the Dream (1)
I dreamed. The novel I had read unfolded before my eyes—the world as it would have been if I had never possessed this body.
“Please, forgive me just this once!”
The head of the Bensrack family knelt and begged. Even he, once so dignified, had no choice but to grovel when his child’s life was at stake.
His son, Kyle Bensrack—the boy who had been caught snooping for rumors and secrets at the Academy—had been discovered by Kirsi. He was the same person who once fed me information about the twins’ private conversations. In the original story, he had trailed after the twins, feeding useful intelligence to the protagonist, Eric Endra… but his tail had been too long.
Kyle Bensrack had already been subjected to brutal torture and could no longer keep his wits about him. Count Bensrack glanced at his son before bowing his head to Kirsi.
“I swear this will never happen again. No—House Bensrack will pledge its loyalty to House Freister! Please…! Please, at least spare my son’s life…!”
A few days after Kyle’s tailing was exposed, Freister soldiers came and dragged him away. Of course, it violated Academy rules, but House Freister made the impossible possible. Normally, the Academy would have mediated and proposed a suitable compromise, but Kirsi had seized him and imprisoned him in Freister territory, rendering the Academy’s rules irrelevant.
For House Bensrack, the only options were to grovel before House Freister or wage war to retrieve their son—neither of which offered favorable odds.
“…Do you know what your son did to me?”
Kirsi asked coldly. Even though it was a dream, her appearance felt utterly alien—nothing like the girl who always smiled at me.
“…I know! I heard he was following you…! I’m truly…! I’m so sorry…! This will never happen again…!”
The head of House Bensrack pressed his forehead to the floor, begging forgiveness. But Kirsi examined her nails with a bored expression.
“…If that was all he had done, I might have forgiven him.”
“….What?”
Then, in a tone dripping with disgust, she spat the words like a curse.
“…He touched my hand.”
“….What?”
Count Bensrack looked as though he doubted his own ears. Kirsi repeated herself.
“He dared to touch my hand.”
“…No… I mean…”
Count Bensrack could not hide his confusion. He could not understand why Kirsi would take a life over a mere touch.
“…You don’t like my expression?”
“…..”
Kirsi let out a hollow laugh.
“Never mind.”
“…No…! Please, I’ll discipline him…!”
“No one is allowed to touch me. Even now, the thought of that filthy hand makes me sick.”
“…..”
The head of House Bensrack clenched his teeth. Not many could endure hearing their son called filthy. But for his son’s life, he swallowed every humiliation.
“…Then let’s do this.”
Kirsi spoke.
“…If you bring me the hand of the son who touched me, I will forgive you.”
“…What?”
Count Bensrack echoed. Kirsi snapped her fingers, and one of the soldiers pinning Kyle down tossed an axe. It landed before the count with a dreadful sound.
“…You’ll have to guess which hand it was. Bring the correct one, and I’ll let him live.”
Kirsi threatened him. At that moment, another figure burst into the room.
“Kirsi Freister!!”
It was the novel’s protagonist—Eric Endra.
Kirsi straightened her posture and asked,
“….Ah. Eric. How did you get in?”
“Kirsi. What do you think you’re doing?”
“I was punishing a rat that was sniffing around behind me.”
“…..This is too much. Forgive him now and release Kyle.”
Kirsi smiled.
“…It may seem excessive to you. To me, it’s not enough.”
“Kirsi..! You’ll regret this—”
Kirsi cut him off.
“Do not let anyone touch us.”
She uttered the family motto. Then, in an icy voice, she continued.
“Count Bensrack. I gave you a clear chance.”
In an instant, the soldier behind Kyle Bensrack raised the axe high.
. . .
“……Mmm.”
As I groaned, the dream shifted. This time, it was Asena. She was slowly walking into the audience chamber of House Hextor. Though the space was vast and beautiful, every member of House Hextor knelt with their necks bared to Freister soldiers—an act Asena had ordered. She had commanded them to prepare an environment where a single word could take a life.
Only Count Hextor remained untouched. Yet he had knelt of his own accord, waiting for Asena.
“…..It seems preparations are complete.”
Without so much as a glance at the kneeling count, Asena passed him by. She seated herself in the now-vacant chair of House Hextor and spoke.
“Kill them all.”
There were no other words. No final wills, no offers of mercy in exchange for loyalty—none of the usual formalities. Dozens of Freister soldiers drew their swords in unison.
“Duke Freister!”
Daisy Hextor’s voice rang out as she rushed in. Every soldier froze at the sound.
“No… Asena. Don’t do this.”
“…Daisy.”
Asena, colder than ever, rolled her eyes toward Daisy Hextor.
“….You’re doing this because of what I did. Kill only me. Leave my family alone.”
“….”
No one could guess what thoughts passed beneath Asena’s rigid expression.
“I lost. That’s enough now. So many people in our territories depend on House Hextor. If you kill them all… they won’t survive either. Just punish me. Torture me, do whatever you want. This order won’t only kill us…! Even children… many will die. I’m begging you.”
Daisy pleaded with a resolute expression. The ever-unyielding Daisy had finally surrendered.
“I lost… I lost, so…”
Asena stared at her longtime Academy acquaintance, then turned her head. She remained unmoved. In the same mechanical voice, she ordered,
“Execute them all. Leave no survivors.”
. . .
“Hah…! Hah…!”
I woke from the burning thirst. My throat ached, and my mouth felt dry and heavy. The nightmare had made my sleep restless. Driven by an overwhelming thirst, I climbed out of bed and poured water straight from the pitcher into my mouth. Only after the cold water repeatedly washed down my throat could I finally come to my senses.
“Phew…”
I wiped my mouth and sat at the desk. I tried to recall the dream, but soon shook my head. There was no point dwelling on a future that would never come to pass. Still, the dream had left me with some thoughts. Even if it was a future I had already prevented… had the two of them truly changed?
****
“Judy, hello.”
I greeted Judy, who stood in the training grounds as usual.
“……”
She gave no response. Her expression was unusually stiff—perhaps something unpleasant had happened.
“….Is something wrong?”
Judy let out a sigh, then spoke in a resigned tone.
“….It’s just. I feel like you’re all talk.”
“Huh?”
“You said we should be friends without blushing, even though we’re from rival families.”
I lowered my head to study Judy’s expression more closely.
“You might not know since this is your first time… but if someone doesn’t even greet you at an event like that, what use is calling them a friend?”
“….Ah. At the ball?”
“….”
She was right. I hadn’t managed to greet Judy even once at the ball. It was understandable that she would feel slighted. But I had my own reasons.
“I had my reasons, Judy. If you were watching, you’d know—I was going to look for you right after Daisy Hextor.”
“….But?”
“But the twins dragged me away.”
Judy turned to face me.
“…Right. Both twins looked angry back then—what was that about?”
“I was planning to stay quiet and leave, but my plan fell apart when I asked Daisy to dance.”
“…..Why were you trying to stay quiet and leave in the first place?”
It wasn’t pleasant to explain, but I owed it to Judy. I had approached her as a friend and enjoyed her company, yet I hadn’t even waved at her. Besides, I owed her more than a few favors, and the debt weighed on me. She was also the first person I had ever confided in about how the twins treated me—something I couldn’t share with anyone else.
“…Tell me. Why were you trying to stay quiet and leave? Is that why you spent the entire ball drinking alone behind the twins?”
A look of concern began to surface in her eyes. She seemed to have instinctively realized it was the same issue we shared—problems stemming from our family origins.
“….Yeah. The twins wanted to hide me. At first, they said it was a strategy for the family… but later, I heard them say they should’ve just left me behind in Freister territory.”
Judy gave a short, derisive snort—perhaps on my behalf.
“…..That’s why I told you. The Freisters are rotten.”
“…You said I could curse them if I wanted to.”
“…Are you still defending them? Are you an idiot?”
“It’s complicated. But, Judy.”
I looked at her. And for the first time, I spoke my true feelings.
“……I’m thinking of leaving the family.”
“….What?”
Judy stared at me in disbelief. A tangle of emotions—pity, worry, perhaps even a trace of blessing—crossed her face.
“You told me to leave them, and now you’re surprised?”
“…..Ah..”
She opened her mouth but couldn’t speak. I knew. All this time, she had only said those words. If I had truly wanted to leave, she would have helped me. But both she and I knew that choosing to leave one’s family was no easy decision. Now, I had made up my mind.
“….There’s no reason to stay by the twins’ side anymore. I still like them, but it’s too hard to remain close. They’re ashamed of me anyway.”
“……”
“I’ll just support them from afar. So, Judy.”
“…Yeah?”
Judy seemed unable to keep up with what I was saying. Perhaps she was imagining herself in my place, her feelings in turmoil. I asked,
“Does House Ice accept vassals?”