I was dreaming.

And not the normal kind where nothing makes sense and you forget everything the moment you wake up.

No, this one was cinematic, high quality, and probably emotionally damaging.

It’s like my brain suddenly decided to produce a full-budget stage play at three in the morning.

It started in complete darkness.

Then—boom!

Blinding light.

I swear I got flashbanged in my own dream. One second I was existing peacefully, the next I was squinting like I’d just opened my eyes straight into the sun. And then, just as dramatically, the light narrowed into a spotlight.

Right in the center stood Soren and Mikael, facing each other, standing in the middle like they were about to perform a tango.

’...Am I watching a romance or a murder?’ I wondered, deeply confused but also weirdly invested.

Before I could figure what was happening, Gawain appeared out of nowhere, holding a gun and pointing it straight at Soren like this was the most natural entrance in theater history.

’Oh. Okay. So not tango,’ I mentally corrected myself. ’The genre changed.’

And the strangest part?

I couldn’t hear anything.

It was like watching a full-on dramatic confrontation... in mime. Their mouths moved, their expressions shifted, Soren looked like he was about to commit several crimes, Gawain looked like he already had—but there was no sound.

Just vibes.

"Ah," I concluded, nodding to myself inside my own dream. "A traditional mime drama. Very cultured. Very artistic."

Honestly? I was hooked.

I leaned in—mentally, because my dream self apparently had front-row seats—and watched as things got intense.

Soren and Gawain were clearly arguing, the tension between them sharp enough to cut through the silence. Meanwhile, Mikael stood off to the side like a very elegant third wheel who somehow got dragged into this mess against his will.

Then everything happened at once.

Gawain pulled the trigger.

Even without sound, I felt it.

The time stretched—slow, dramatic, unnecessarily beautiful—until Mikael suddenly moved, shoving Soren out of the way.

And then—

Mikael was the one who got shot.

That’s when the silence broke.

An explosion rang out, snapping through the entire scene like the dream itself decided, "Alright, enough artistic nonsense."

I blinked, looking around. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

"...I thought this was a traditional mime drama?" I muttered to myself. "I guess I’m watching a modern one now."

Honestly? Even better.

This was way more entertaining than any telenovela. Where was my popcorn? Why do dreams never come with snacks? This is highly unfair.

I turned back just in time to see Soren catch Mikael’s body.

Lifeless.

Gawain dropped to his knees, the gun slipping from his hand as if reality had just caught up to him.

For a second—just a second—it looked like regret.

Then Soren moved fast, grabbing the gun away, and pointed it at Gawain.

"GAWANG!!!" I shouted—or at least, I tried to— but nothing came out, not even a whisper.

I was stuck.

Just a spectator sitting in a first-class seat to emotional devastation with zero ability to intervene.

Soren didn’t hesitate as he pulled the trigger.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Merciless.

Thud.

Gawain collapsed as his body went still.

And just like that, the fight was over.

Soren dropped to his knees next.

He staggered forward, dropping beside Gawain’s body, his movements slower now. Then, without hesitation, without even a moment of doubt, he lifted the gun again and pointed it at his own head.

"No—wait—don’t—"

He pulled the trigger.

BANG!

"SOREN!!!"

The lights went out.

Everything vanished, like the stage itself had decided the show was over.

When I opened my eyes again, it was morning.

No tragic deaths.

No dramatic slow-motion sacrifices.

No suspiciously attractive men ruining their lives for each other.

I blinked at the ceiling, processing. "...That was the weirdest dream I’ve ever had."

I lay there for a moment longer, trying to piece it together like it was some kind of detective case instead of my brain being completely unhinged.

’To summarize,’ I thought, very seriously, ’Soren and Mikael were... lovers?’

Pause.

’...But then Gawain showed up and had a fight with Soren.’

Another pause.

’...Wait. What if Gawain and Soren were ex-lovers, and Gawain was trying to kill him for cheating, but Mikael got in the way instead?’

I stared blankly into space.

’...My dream is insane.’

"My Lady," a voice cut in, far too awake for this hour, "are you seriously daydreaming right now right after waking up?"

I turned my head slightly, only to look at Gawain, sitting on the other side of my bed.

Like he paid rent.

At this point, I didn’t even question it anymore. I had long passed the stage of "reprimand him for breaking boundaries" and had fully entered the stage of "accept my fate and move on."

Instead, I just stared at him for a second, then reached for my OmniSync and typed.

"Did Soren come back?"

"Soren?" Gawain echoed, tilting his head slightly before smiling like there wasn’t a single problem in the world. "No, My Lady."

Before I could think any further, he leaned in and picked me up like this was part of his daily routine—which, unfortunately, it already was.

"Let’s go bathe you first before we eat breakfast," he said casually.

I didn’t even resist.

I was still half-asleep, my brain barely functioning, and honestly? If he dropped me, that would be tomorrow’s problem.

So I just let him carry me, eyes half-closed, already drifting somewhere between reality and whatever nonsense dream my mind was planning next.

Hopefully with popcorn this time.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

When I opened my eyes again, Gawain was already carrying me through the dining room.

I blinked, my brain slowly catching up.

Wait.

Something was off.

’Where is Agatha?’

She usually knocks on my door every morning like a very polite alarm clock I never asked for, announcing. "breakfast is ready".

The fact that I woke up, got carried, and was now halfway to eating without her dramatic entrance?

Suspicious.

"Agatha?" I called, glancing up at him.

Gawain immediately frowned, pouting like I had just betrayed him on a personal level. "Why are you looking for her? I’m already here," he said, clutching me slightly tighter. "Your personal free manny."

I stared at him.

Unimpressed.

"Agatha," I repeated flatly, already rolling my eyes.

He huffed, clearly offended that I refused to acknowledge his emotional speech. "She went on a morning run," he said, then added with a chuckle, "Probably because she accidentally stepped on a dragon’s tail."

I paused. ’...What?’

I frowned slightly, about to ask what in the world that was supposed to mean—when we passed by a window.

And there she was.

Agatha running like her life depended on it.

She was completely drenched in sweat, her movements stiff but determined, like every step was fueled by regret and poor decision-making.

I slowly raised my OmniSync and typed: "Since when did she start running?"

Gawain only shrugged, completely unhelpful as always. "Let’s eat first."

That was not an answer.

But before I could press further, the dining room doors opened—

—and there he was.

Soren.

Standing at the center like he owned not just the house, but the morning itself.

Behind him was Mikael, looking as composed as ever—which was impressive, considering he was very much alive after everything that definitely did not happen last night.

"Soren!" I called out, instantly more awake, a smile slipping onto my face before I could stop it.

’Since when did he come back?

He usually visits my room first when he returns unless—’

My gaze slowly shifted towards Gawain, who was smiling innocently while looking straight at Soren.

’Oh, something definitely happened.’

"...What a surprise, General Soren Markhelov!" Gawain greeted enthusiastically, voice bright and cheerful in the most suspicious way possible. "I didn’t know the master of this house was back already."

I narrowed my eyes slightly.

’...Maybe not.

Maybe Soren really did just arrive.’

"Have a seat," Soren said simply.

Gawain complied, placing me down at the farthest end of the table before taking the seat right beside me like a guard assigned successfully securing his territory.

Soren didn’t sit.

Instead, he stood there for a moment, then without a word, he walked over and sat down right beside me.

Not across.

Not at the head.

Beside.

I blinked. ’...Okay.’

Before I could overthink it, Soren gave a small nod toward Mikael.

Mikael clapped his hands once.

And just like that, plates of food appeared in front of us, arranged perfectly like we were in some five-star dining experience instead of whatever this situation was.

But my attention was instantly stolen.

Food.

Beautiful, glorious food.

I leaned forward, fully prepared to commit to my life choices and devour everything in sight but then a fork appeared in front of me, holding a perfectly cut piece of steak.

I looked up.

Soren was offering it like usual.

I leaned forward and took a bite, completely satisfied.

Somewhere beside me, I could practically feel Gawain’s soul leaving his body.

"My Lady, you should try this instead," Gawain said quickly, like a man fighting for his rights, holding a piece of venison in front of me.

I didn’t question and bit it immediately.

And—oh.

It melted in my mouth the instant it touched my tongue.

I paused mid-chew, eyes widening slightly as I processed the flavor like this was a life-changing event.

Naturally, I opened my mouth again.

But before Gawain could celebrate his victory, Soren smoothly intercepted, placing a piece of steak into my mouth with the precision of someone who had absolutely no intention of losing whatever this had suddenly become.

I chewed.

Swallowed.

Opened my mouth again.

And...

Nothing.

I blinked.

Then slowly looked up.

Both of them were still there—holding out their forks, each with a perfectly cut piece of meat, frozen mid-offer.

Except now, their free hands were gripping each other’s wrists tightly.

Like if one moved, the other would immediately escalate the situation into something the staff would have to clean up later.

"Blanca likes this better," Soren said calmly, though the vein on his hand suggested otherwise.

"My Lady likes to try new things," Gawain replied with a smile that absolutely did not match the tension in his grip.

I stared at them silently. ’...Is this the continuation of my dream?’ I wondered.

Because there was no way this was real life.

There was no way two grown men were having a silent war over what food should enter my mouth.

I glanced left.

Then right.

And that’s when I saw him.

Mikael standing peacefully, smiling, and completely unbothered.

’Perfect.’

If these two were going to turn breakfast into a battlefield, then I was not about to sit here and starve.

Without a word, I climbed onto the table—because clearly, social norms had already left the building—and walked straight toward him like a tiny, hungry menace.

He looked up just as I stopped in front of him.

"Mika. Food," I said, opening my mouth.

"My pleasure Miss Blanca," he replied smoothly, like this was the most normal request he’d received all morning.

He neatly cut a piece of venison, brought it to my lips, and feeding me without hesitation.

At the same time, his other hand reached up and pinched my cheek lightly.

I let him because he was feeding me.

Food first.

Dignity later.

Behind me, the temperature in the room dropped.

If looks could kill, Mikael would’ve been vaporized on the spot.

But Mikael, completely unbothered and somehow thriving, simply continued feeding me like he had just won the most important battle of the day.