EMDL 05

Episode 5

Céline shot halfway up from the bed.

What on earth was this man saying…?!

Leonhardt, meanwhile, looked genuinely puzzled by her reaction.

“Why are you so surprised?”

Céline almost snapped back — “You really don’t know why?” — but caught herself and shut her mouth.

Calm down. Stay calm. He just doesn’t want me to die again, that’s all.

A short while ago, she had drowned in her bath. Alone. Of course Leonhardt would want to keep an eye on her now.

But the problem was… where exactly she was supposed to sleep.

The bed was obviously out of the question. Leonhardt, heir to a grand duchy, surely had a fiancée. Sharing a bed with another woman would be unthinkable.

Her gaze landed on a large armchair — grand and plush enough to serve as a throne, but hardly a match for the bed.

“I’d… like to sleep in the bed tonight,” she said carefully.

One of Leonhardt’s eyebrows twitched.

“Do I look like the kind of man who drags women out of beds?”

You do look like the kind who kills them, though…

Céline swallowed dryly, remembering the Leonhardt from the game, and forced a calm tone.

“Then where will you sleep?”

Leonhardt didn’t answer. He simply leaned against the door. Through the slightly open robe, his well-built body looked poised to move at any second.

“There?”

“Yes. Any problem?”

“Well, not exactly a problem, but it’s uncomfortable! There’s a sofa, even that chair—”

Leonhardt tilted his head slightly.

“I have to guard you. A guard should stay alert.”

Céline’s cheeks flushed hot.

Get a grip! It doesn’t mean anything.

Since she only kept staring, Leonhardt seemed to think she hadn’t understood, and began explaining slowly.

“You could roll off the bed in your sleep and die, or something else could happen. Once we reach the estate, I’ll assign you a trustworthy maid skilled in self-defense.”

“Still, sleeping like that…”

“It’s no different. Sleep like this, sleep like that — either way, I won’t rest.”

Céline nodded.

Well, he was a soldier after all. He’d probably slept in far worse places than this.

She lay down and pulled the thick blanket up to her chin. The pleasant weight and warmth wrapped her in comfort.

“Good night,” she murmured.

Too tired to realize the irony of her own words, she drifted off almost instantly.

An hour later, Leonhardt stared quietly at the sleeping woman.

Her face, peaceful in deep sleep, looked truly serene. For a moment, he envied her. Soon enough, sleep — his greatest fear — would come for him again.

The only comfort was that it would end tonight.

Despite his best efforts to stay awake, his heavy eyelids finally sank.

The familiar nightmare began.

That dreadful house.

Withered ivy clung to the cracked walls; not a single intact window remained. The sight alone made his chest tighten.

He saw her immediately — Céline Hunt, just entering the house.

Then another figure appeared: himself.

His heart pounded.

And then he realized — that racing heartbeat wasn’t his own, but Céline’s.

At first, she was only curious. Then terror seized her, and she ran.

Leonhardt watched himself chase after her, breathless, sick with dread.

He shouldn’t have done it.

Of course she’d been terrified — a strange man shouting at her out of nowhere. Who wouldn’t be frightened?

And then—

The terrified woman tried to climb onto the roof.

Thud!

Leonhardt screamed.

“No—!”

Céline’s eyes flew open. She turned toward the source of the anguished cry.

Oh no.

Leonhardt Bernui was slumped against the wall, thrashing in agony. Céline jumped out of bed.

“Hey! Wake up! It’s just a dream!”

But her voice couldn’t reach him.

She shook him gently. His body, though deeply asleep, was rigid with tension.

The next instant, she was thrown hard to the floor.

Pain shot through her, but she stared straight at Leonhardt, whose face was twisted in distress.

Careful.

He was caught between dream and reality. If she startled him, it could end badly.

“Are you awake?” she asked softly.

“…”

Leonhardt blinked, as if unable to believe what he was seeing. His blue eyes trembled at the sight of her — alive, wincing in pain on the floor.

“…A dream.”

“It’s not a dream!” Céline staggered to her feet.

“See? If this were your dream, I’d be dead already. But I’m not, am I?”

“….”

Leonhardt buried his face in his hands. He suddenly looked so vulnerable that Céline couldn’t say anything more.

“…I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m not dead or anything.”

“No. I mean earlier — at the house.”

Céline blinked, startled. Leonhardt didn’t seem like the type to apologize for something like that.

“What?”

“It was my fault.”

His voice was low and solemn.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how frightened you’d be.”

“Well, it’s fine. I came back to life anyway.”

She tried to joke, but it didn’t ease the heavy atmosphere.

“Go back to sleep. You look exhausted. Sorry for waking you. And for… throwing you.”

His tone brimmed with guilt.

“You’ve apologized enough,” Céline said gently, offering a small smile.

“The next dream will be better, right?”

“Hardly. It’ll just repeat. Two deaths, two dreams — alternating.”

“Oh…” Céline couldn’t find any comforting words.

“How long will it last?”

“Until sunrise.”

“So you’ll keep seeing me die until then…”

“Yes. Two deaths, over and over.”

“What about sleeping after sunrise?”

“Daytime sleep is worse,” he said, grimacing as if the thought alone disgusted him.

“Go ahead and rest. Don’t mind me.”

Céline climbed back into bed, though uneasily. Her shin throbbed from hitting the floor, but the soft blankets eased the pain.

Still, she couldn’t sleep again — Leonhardt kept drifting in and out of shallow, tormented dreams.

“Hh—!”

Leonhardt’s eyes flew open.

Right in front of him were large gray-blue eyes, and a gentle hand rested on his shoulder.

“You woke me again,” he murmured weakly.

“It’s okay,” Céline said, though she looked anxious.

“If you don’t want me to wake you…”

“….”

He paused.

Honestly, he didn’t mind. In fact, he preferred it. Unless he woke on his own or someone woke him, he was trapped in that endless pain.

But if he admitted that, how could she ever get any sleep?

“I don’t mind,” he said quietly. “But it’ll bother you.”

“Why?”

Leonhardt looked at her blankly. She seemed genuinely puzzled, brushing her damp golden hair that shimmered in the lamplight.

“Because you’d have to keep waking me. You wouldn’t get any rest.”

“Oh.” Céline’s eyes widened as she understood.

“It’s fine. I can’t sleep anyway — I wake up at your screams.”

“My screams…?”

“You keep shouting, ‘No!’”

Leonhardt frowned. Now that she mentioned it, it was the first time he’d ever yelled in a dream — or talked in his sleep at all.

All this time, no matter how many times she’d died in his dreams, he’d only felt the pain — never the urge to stop it.

But tonight… after spending just half a day with her, seeing her die had made him scream.

“…I’m sorry.”

“You can’t help it.”

He stood.

“Going to sleep on the sofa? Good idea.”

“No. I’ll go to my room.”

Céline immediately understood why.

“Because of me, right? Because your nightmare keeps me awake?”

“Yes.”

As he reached for the door, she stopped him.

“It’s only for tonight, right? Then just for tonight, I’ll wake you. Stay here.”

Leonhardt slowly turned back. The small woman buried under the blanket was looking straight at him.

Relief washed over him.

The same woman whose death had made him scream was sitting there, alive and well.

“That… would help. A lot.”

“I’m glad,” Céline said with a sleepy smile.

Leonhardt leaned back against the door, tension finally easing.

Both of them fought against sleep, but it had been a long, exhausting day.

At last, dawn broke, tinting the pale sky with rose.

Céline collapsed onto the bed, utterly spent. Leonhardt looked down at her peaceful face as she fell instantly asleep.

It had been a long night.

But for Leonhardt, it was also the most restful one in over a month and a half.

Céline stretched, nearly moved to tears by the softness of the pillow beneath her hand.

The moment she opened her eyes, she looked toward the door — but Leonhardt was gone. Not even a mark was left on the carpet.

Instead, something else caught her attention. The once-empty room was now filled with boxes wrapped in colorful ribbons.

Three, four stacked high — she had to tread carefully not to knock them over.

Curious, Céline opened the nearest one.

What’s this?

Inside was a soft nightgown, perfectly her size.

Her heart began to race.

No need to ask who was behind this.

While she slept, Leonhardt must have ordered everything.

Her cheeks flushed as she eagerly opened the rest of the boxes.

Each was a new delight: three fur-lined coats, five lavish gowns, three simple dresses, over ten petticoats — even stockings and undergarments.

Céline quickly slipped out of her nightgown and into a modest dress with petticoats.

The fresh, clean fabric brushed softly against her skin, making her smile without even realizing it.

The moment she was dressed, she rushed out — not even bothering with a mirror. She just wanted to thank him.

“You’re awake,” came Leonhardt’s voice.