Chapter 6: The Unrealistic Reality of a Dream

With Lyden having exited his dream, Haeseung found himself utterly devoid of motivation. He simply decided to lie down and rest, feeling a profound fatigue and exhaustion from the dream’s unsettling realism.

He was, after all, approaching an age where he could pursue more suggestive desires in reality. With a relaxed mind, Haeseung readily abandoned any lingering attachment to the dream’s titillating aspects.

Moreover, experiencing a wet dream at his age would be quite mortifying.

Feeling lighthearted, Haeseung settled into bed. He ate the meals brought to him, enjoyed the attentive service, and rested comfortably until he drifted off to sleep.

When he awoke, he was still ensnared within the dream. An entire day had seemingly passed due to his excessively deep slumber.

Despite this, he found himself staring at the same dream bedroom scenery, pondering how much longer this incredibly tedious dream would persist.

“Young Master, Madam calls for you.”

Haeseung had already risen, washed, changed into fresh clothes, and eaten breakfast. He sat idly, a hollow laugh escaping him at the realization that even in his dream, he was spending a morning so remarkably similar to reality.

It was then that the Duchess’s summons was conveyed to him.

“They say your recovery is fast.”

“Yes. Well, thanks to your concern…” Haeseung’s voice trailed off, his words fading into the air.

As Haeseung’s words faded, faint wrinkles appeared between the Duchess’s brows, surprisingly smooth for a woman with a grown son. This was not an unfamiliar sight, so he simply ignored it, continuing to sip his hot tea.

The furrows on her brow, however, only deepened further.

The Duchess had worn this exact same expression when he first entered the drawing-room, when he slumped onto the sofa at her gesture to sit, and even when he lifted the incredibly ornate teacup to take his first sip. It was a constant, unchanging look.

‘Why does she make that face after calling someone who was comfortably resting in bed?’

As she was designated his mother within the dream, Haeseung was indeed treating her with the appropriate deference. Yet, no matter how diligently he tried, it simply felt like an elaborate performance, leaving him feeling utterly awkward.

He possessed no hidden acting talents, nor had he ever experienced a mother who regarded her son with such disdain, as if he were an insect. Consequently, any attempt at method acting proved futile.

“Your memory is coming and going?”

“Yes… it is. Coming and going,” Haeseung replied, his voice flat and unenthusiastic.

Haeseung, unable to comprehend why he was forced into such realistic conversations within a dream, responded with a listless, perfunctory tone. He much preferred dreams where he could unleash passionate desires impossible to fulfill in reality.

However, the only characters appearing in this dream were the ever-present maid, the venomous Duchess, and a doctor who seemed to be his father’s age. His disappointment was steadily mounting.

Cursing Noona’s romance novel in his mind, Haeseung fervently wished to awaken from this damned dream. It was utterly devoid of fun, lessons, or any sense of purpose.

Even more, it was proving duller and more tedious than reality itself. Haeseung found himself writhing in frustration, even while simply lying in bed, trapped in such an exasperating situation.

The Duchess silently set down her teacup, her gaze fixed intently upon Haeseung, who was lost in his own thoughts. As Haeseung lifted his head, feeling the sticky, unpleasant weight of her stare, he met her eyes.

They moved slowly, almost as if dissecting him. His head tilted slightly, an unconscious reaction to her scrutinizing expression, which seemed to be searching for something.

“Are there any other places that hurt besides your head?”

The Duchess expressed concern for Heinzel’s health in a voice utterly devoid of genuine worry. Typically, even when people spoke contrary to their true feelings—to be sarcastic or to rebuke—they would at least feign an appropriate expression.

This was the first time Haeseung had ever heard such utterly hollow words of concern, and he found the experience almost refreshingly novel.

“It’s probably because I’ve been lying down constantly, but other than feeling weak, I’m fine.”

“…I see.”

Her eyes, lost in thought, drifted downwards. After a brief silence, the Duchess finally spoke.

“I will send Vant once a day. You are to tell him your body’s condition in detail.”

“It’s fine. I’ll get better soon with a little rest. You don’t need to worry so much…” Haeseung began.

He was about to say “no need,” but the gaze fixed upon him sharpened abruptly.

“This is not something to be taken lightly. If an unknown illness spreads throughout the mansion because of your carelessness, who will take responsibility?”

‘If it were a genuine illness, wouldn’t I have simply died? Enduring five days of sickness only to wake up perfectly fine surely implies a full recovery. And anyway, it’s just a dream; how could it possibly be a contagious disease?’

Despite thinking it made no sense, Haeseung merely nodded, muttering, “Yes, yes.” Although it was a tedious and boring dream, he had no desire to find amusement by engaging in a confrontation with the Duchess.

The atmosphere was so profoundly unpleasant—almost as if he’d be dragged to prison—that he didn’t even contemplate such an attempt.

“Do you understand?”

“…Yes.”

“You must tell everything without hiding anything.”

Anyone listening might have easily assumed she was genuinely concerned for her child. However, the emotion conveyed in her expression and voice was as utterly indifferent as one might show a passing stray dog.

“You may leave now. You’ll recover faster if you rest.”

‘Is this truly how I imagined the Duchess would be? Even in a dream, this is profoundly unpleasant,’ Haeseung thought, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

‘If she were truly that worried, the person with the actual business would come to me. This isn’t even an important matter, yet she summoned her son, who was sick for five days and just barely recovered, all the way here. Is she trying to train a stray dog?’

Though grumbling inwardly, Haeseung managed a warm, affable smile as he rose from his seat.

“Yes, yes, then I’ll be going.”

“Your manner of speaking is frivolous. It’s utterly light, just like that of commoners. Although you’ve been unwell, do try to pay more attention to your demeanor.”

Haeseung’s jaw dropped, having heard the word “common” directed at him for the very first time. The Duchess’s face remained so incredibly serene as she spoke that it was, in its own way, surprisingly novel.

Despite being insulted to his face, he felt no anger; rather, he almost felt like bursting into laughter.

Nodding vaguely in understanding, Haeseung exited the drawing-room, where Rosie, who had been waiting outside, immediately fell into step behind him.

“Let’s go to your room.”

Haeseung, who had been walking briskly, paused and graciously yielded the lead to Rosie. He recalled his earlier attempt to boldly navigate the mansion on his own, thinking that in a dream, he could simply walk wherever he wished.

After circling the vast estate multiple times, he had only managed to reach the Duchess’s presence with Rosie’s precise guidance.

“No, why is this house structured so complexly?”

“You’re tired, so please go to your bedroom quickly, Young Master,” Rosie urged, cutting him off.

‘Realism. Damned realism! This oppressive realism that exhausts me just by walking through the mansion. What am I supposed to do with this wretched body? Why is it inferior to my real body, even though it’s my own dream?’

As Haeseung gritted his teeth, slowly succumbing to exhaustion, they finally reached Heinzel’s bedroom.

“I hate dreams like this. They’re completely no fun, no emotion. What is this, even?”

Rosie let out a soft sigh, watching Haeseung flop onto the bed and wriggle restlessly. She clicked her tongue at his utterly undignified behavior, so unbefitting a noble.

However, a sudden wave of worry washed over her; the Young Master’s condition hadn’t been good since his illness.

Unaware of Rosie’s inner turmoil, Haeseung simply continued to roll around in bed, wishing desperately to awaken from the dream.

“Did Madam say anything?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Madam is annoying.”

Rosie flinched at Haeseung’s sudden scream.

“She’s such an annoying character! She’s Heinzel’s mother, yet how can a mother speak to her son like that? Does being a Duchess make her superior? Why does a Duchess even…”

Haeseung, who had been shouting vehemently, suddenly felt a strange incongruity and stopped speaking. He swiftly turned to Rosie, who had frozen as if ambushed. “By the way,” he began.

“Madam is the Duchess, isn’t she?”

“That’s right…”

“Duchess Defensio. Lyden is Lyden Defensio. I’m Heinzel… Defensio. Does that mean the Duchess is Lyden’s mother, and I’m Lyden’s brother?”

‘No, that can’t be right. Lyden only had a deceased older brother. What is this sudden, unexpected family tree?’

Haeseung scratched his forehead, deeply pondering the identity of ‘Heinzel Defensio,’ a character whose appearance was entirely unremembered.

He had never encountered a character named ‘Heinzel Defensio’ in Noona’s novel. When the story truly began and Lyden appeared, his only living family member was his nephew.

He had thought the dream was strangely realistic, yet here was an abrupt, unrealistic twist.

Rosie stared at Haeseung, who laughed incredulously, as if he had lost his mind.

“Madam married the Duke about ten years ago. She brought Young Master Heinzel with her then. The Duke cherished Young Master Heinzel so much that he allowed him to use the Defensio family name. …Don’t you remember?”

“Wow… the setting is even more detailed than my Noona’s. No, wait, is this a setting I created? I really should have been the one to write.”

Rosie grew gloomy watching Haeseung marvel, convinced that this elaborate setting was a creation of his subconscious. From all appearances, the Young Master’s condition was far from normal.

She knew that relaying this information to the Duchess or Vant would not bode well for her. Yet, if she concealed it and was discovered, even worse consequences would surely follow.

Unaware of Rosie’s worries, Haeseung merely laughed. He continued to assert that he, not Noona, should have been the author, that a masterpiece might be born from his hands.

He swelled with confidence and grand aspirations, even deciding that he would try writing a novel himself once he awakened from the dream.

“Oh, right. Vant is supposed to visit once a day. He’s the man I saw yesterday, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is Madam’s personal physician. He is a highly skilled individual, specially brought from Madam’s family to serve by her side.”

‘Given the way he examined me yesterday, I wouldn’t say he’s particularly skilled. Is it just being glossed over because it’s a dream?’ Haeseung mused.

He knew nothing about medicine, so it was perhaps natural that the details wouldn’t be precise. Dismissing Vant’s skills as unimportant, Haeseung inquired about something else.

“Where is the Duchess’s family from?”

Discovering such detailed settings created by his own subconscious, he thought he should refine Noona’s novel more once he woke up from the dream. He harbored a shallow hope that he might receive a bit more pocket money if he did.

“They are the Viscounts of Rothwell.”

‘The five ranks of nobility were Duke, Marquis, Earl, Viscount, and Baron, weren’t they?’ He set aside the question of how a Viscount’s daughter could become a Duchess, especially a woman with a son, even if she was a second wife.

“That doesn’t make sense?”

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