1. I Despise Nightmares
The pistol against her thigh was chillingly cold.
“Make it more glamorous. The guests are arriving soon!”
Above the head maid’s irritated voice echoing through the hall, the cuckoo clock chimed six times. It signaled the hour. The head maid frowned as she turned to Ansi standing nearby.
“Rain, the ball is about to start. Why didn’t you put the clock away?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll do it now.”
It wasn’t her job to take care of the clock, but Ansi offered no excuse. She had no desire to be removed from her hall duties due to a pointless scene.
Ansi hurried over to the wall, set the ladder in place, and climbed it. Just as she reached up and removed the large clock, the head maid muttered,
“The young duke Orphe is coming too. Everything has to be perfect.”
Young Duke Orphe.
Ansi flinched at the name.
Suddenly, the pistol strapped to her thigh felt as heavy as a stone. Every sense focused on it. Was it securely fastened? Was it showing beneath her skirt?
She gripped the clock tighter in her hands.
One step, then another—each descent from the ladder felt like stepping over his name. When she reached the floor, she quickly turned and left the hall, carrying the clock.
The purpose was to let guests enjoy the party without being conscious of the time.
She placed the clock in a room deep within the mansion and exhaled the breath she’d been holding. After several deep breaths, she left the room.
From the hall, the sound of lively string music reached her ears. The ball had begun.
Ansi’s face tensed.
“It’s fine. I can do this.”
She smoothed her skirt and checked the gun, ensuring it was in place. Then, with a determined expression, she walked toward the hall.
She hoped that Cardian de Orphe, the young duke, was already there.
A man with honey-blonde hair and golden eyes.
Because tonight—she planned to kill him.
The hall was already crowded with attendees, each in high spirits.
“Where is he?”
Ansi surveyed the room, hiding her anxious breaths. Pretending to clear dishes, adjusting crooked glasses—she watched each face carefully.
The cheerful chatter and music overwhelmed her senses. The noise buzzed in her ears like the fluttering of bees’ wings.
That’s when a clear voice caught her attention.
“Why is there a crowd over there?”
“They say someone from House Orphe arrived.”
“Is that true? I should go greet them.”
Ansi froze mid-reach for a plate. Slowly, she lifted her gaze. The group of young men were walking toward a small crowd gathered around a large sofa.
Ansi swallowed dryly. Her heart pounded violently.
He’s here. The young duke is here.
Fixing her gaze on the crowd, Ansi took a step. And another. Her lips were sealed shut, not even a breath escaping.
“How long will you stay in the south?”
“Unfortunately, I’m heading back tomorrow. I have business in the capital.”
She couldn’t see him yet, but the voice grew clearer. Ansi lowered her trembling hand to her skirt, trying to recall the sensation of pulling the trigger—something she’d imagined countless times.
Then a drunken baron’s slurred voice rang out from the crowd—he was picking a fight.
“Hah! I can tell just by looking at you. You’ve never suffered a day in your life, have you?”
“Hmm…”
The man let out a low chuckle. The casual, playful tone shook Ansi’s focus.
Something was wrong.
“You can’t tell someone’s life story just by looking at them.”
Was Cardian’s voice always like this?
Ansi’s steps slowed. Her pounding heart screeched like a broken machine.
“I know boys your age. Spoiled, coddled by rich parents. You’ve never struggled, never had a thought about the future. Tell me—what have you ever done?”
The baron’s voice rose in volume. Guests watching began to look uncomfortable.
“Baron Langis, enough now.”
“Am I wrong? No hardships, no thoughts, bright future. But you… what have you ever done?”
The baron trailed off, puzzled.
The man answered nonchalantly, in a bright tone.
“Your hair color reminded me of the Parma soldiers’ hats.”
“What?”
“I was reminiscing about a bullet through the head.”
“W-What…?”
“Bang.”
The man mimicked a gunshot with his mouth, startling the baron so much he fell backward. The crowd instinctively stepped back, and the man landed on his rear.
A stifled laugh spread among the nobles, and the man seated on the sofa was finally revealed.
Ansi froze, stunned. Her hand dropped from her skirt.
The man had neither honey-blonde hair nor golden eyes.
He had platinum hair, pretending to hold a rifle. He dropped his hands and smirked. His violet eyes briefly met Ansi’s.
Ansi held her breath.
But the man soon looked away and rose from the sofa. He offered his hand to the baron.
“If I startled you, I apologize. I was just joking along.”
“I-Is that so…”
Ansi turned on her heel. Her heart, which had felt like it stopped, now raced. Her hands trembled. She grabbed a random dish from a table and fled the hall.
Later that night…
At the edge of the overgrown garden, by an old, neglected fountain, Ansi sat and pressed down on her thigh.
Through the fabric, the hard outline of the gun was unmistakable.
Cardian de Orphe never appeared.
No matter how hard she searched the mansion, he was nowhere to be found. Among all the guests, none were him.
She lifted her skirt and drew the pistol.
She’d packed this gun when she left House Rubelsa, determined to shoot him the moment she got the chance.
If he came tonight—she was ready to kill him. Only by ending his life could she hope to rid herself of the raging hatred that devoured her each day.
Cardian de Orphe.
Young Duke of the House of Orphe.
He was the man who had killed her father and brother, and disgraced the once-honorable name of Rubelsa.
“I’ll be back soon.”
One year ago, her father, the Count of Rubelsa, was appointed acting commander at a border region. Her brother, a soldier, went with him.
The area had been under ceasefire for years and held little significance.
But one night, a battle broke out.
The first strike came from Count Rubelsa.
After hearing that a secret peace deal between Belgader and Parma had succeeded, he refused to accept reconciliation with the enemy—and launched an attack.
It was reckless and arrogant.
Belgader’s army was crushed, and the enemy quickly took over the surrounding areas.
Many died.
Including Count Rubelsa, who was killed instantly by enemy fire. Her brother, Del, was reportedly caught in a bomb blast.
“For the damage caused to the Belgader Empire, all assets of Count Rubelsa will be confiscated.”
Everything was taken from the Rubelsas. Their land, possessions, company shares—even their servants.
Ansi’s insistence that there had been a mistake was dismissed as arrogance.
Branded a traitor who disgraced the nation. A monster who used young soldiers to fulfill selfish greed.
All that remained were eyes filled with hatred—eyes that were aimed at Ansi and her mother.
Ansi sought out Young Duke Orphe, the one who had supposedly delivered the truce notice, as a last desperate measure. She hoped he could clear the misunderstanding—defend her father, even slightly.
But what she overheard at his mansion revealed the truth.
“I told the count that the peace talks failed and Parma would invade soon.”
Cardian de Orphe’s voice was soft and casual—as if discussing the weather.
“The count must have thought it was better to strike first. He didn’t know Parma had already reinforced its troops.”
He had lied to provoke the attack.
Unbelievable.
And when asked why—his answer was chilling.
“He was just… annoying.”
The man laughed. A terrifying, inhuman laugh.
From that day on, Ansi imagined killing Cardian in her mind—every single day.
Even when she was turned away from House Orphe.
Even when she fled to the south to escape the mobs hurling stones.
Even now, living under the name Rain, working at the estate of Viscount Jiden.
Tonight was the perfect opportunity.
A chance to approach him without suspicion.
She had prepared thoroughly. Hidden herself well.
And yet—that bastard didn’t show.
Staring blankly at the pistol in her hand, Ansi slowly raised it to her temple. The cold muzzle touched her skin—a chilling sensation.
If only she could gift this feeling to that bastard Cardian…
“I’d prefer not to deal with a nightmare tonight.”
A man’s voice spoke suddenly.
Ansi panicked, hiding the gun beneath her skirt and scanning the area.
In the distance, leaning lazily against a pergola pillar—stood a man’s silhouette.
Had he seen her? The gun?
Ansi’s heart pounded wildly. It was dark—maybe he hadn’t seen clearly…
Just then, the clouds parted, and the moonlight lit up the world.
Ansi instinctively held her breath.
“I despise nightmares.”
The calm voice filled the still garden.
A platinum-haired man with ghostly white skin looked at her and smiled.
