TYWML 08

8. The Man in the Dream
May 8, 2024

Jet-black hair and blue eyes.

His rain-drenched hair clung to his forehead as he walked through the storm, but somehow, that only made him more striking.

The man standing before her was the same man from the dream she had five times over. It might have been possible to dismiss him as someone who simply resembled the man in the dream—but Riena was certain.

This was the exact same man. Otherwise, there was no way even the scar on the back of his hand would be identical.

As soon as she realized that, the heart she thought had gone cold began to beat hotly again.

Riena felt an overwhelming urge to speak to this nameless man—just because he looked like the man from her dream.

Even she found the reason laughable. But at the same time, it felt valid. What were the odds of meeting the person from her dream in real life? It couldn’t be mere coincidence.

“Sir, please step aside so I can speak with him myself.”

She dismounted from her horse, speaking firmly. The knight commander hesitated for a moment but eventually stepped aside. The man with black hair stepped forward and bowed deeply before Riena.

“I apologize for the intrusion at this hour.”

That was when Riena realized why his voice had sounded so familiar—he spoke with the same voice she’d heard in her dream.

Only one thing was different. In the dream, his voice was filled with despair. But now, it held joy.

Even amidst her confusion, Riena found that odd. Though he was apologizing, his voice didn’t sound remorseful at all.

But her thoughts didn’t last long. The man pulled out a letter from his coat and offered it to her. Perhaps due to protective magic, the letter was perfectly dry despite the pouring rain.

Riena didn’t take the letter right away. Instead, she cautiously asked,

“What is this…?”

“It’s a letter the Count of Dyke entrusted me with before his passing. Please read it before we speak further.”

At the mention of ‘Count Dyke,’ Riena snatched the letter from him before he could even finish his sentence. It was rude, but she didn’t even realize—her mind was reeling.

A letter from Father?

If what he said was true, this might be her father’s final message.

With trembling fingers, she opened the letter.

To Cassel.

The first thing she saw was unmistakably her father’s handwriting. Not elegant, but firm and sharp—the writing she had missed so dearly.

“This is real… It’s really…”

Riena couldn’t continue reading. Her eyes filled with tears.

After hearing of her father’s sudden death, she had barely been able to hold herself together. It was a death she wasn’t prepared for, and the shock hit her like a storm.

For days, she denied the reality. She cried until she fainted. The funeral was a blur, and by the time she came to her senses, a week had passed.

In that week, her stepmother—the Countess of Dyke—had cleaned out all of her father’s belongings. As if discarding cursed objects, not a single item was spared.

Riena had confronted her about it later, but the Countess didn’t even flinch. She’d simply said it was too painful to look at them and asked what was so wrong about putting them away.

Yelling wouldn’t bring her father’s things back. So instead, Riena searched the estate for remnants of her father’s presence.

A handkerchief mistakenly placed in her closet. A note wedged between books. A cufflink hidden in the attic during a childhood treasure hunt.

She cried silently every time she found one. But eventually, there was nothing left to find. And each time, she sank into deeper despair.

Would her memories of her father slowly fade? His face, his voice, his warmth? She was terrified of forgetting him.

Yet just reading To Cassel in her father’s handwriting—those few words—made it feel like his voice was right beside her.

The man—presumably Cassel—did not interrupt her tears. He didn’t ask if she was okay, nor did he offer comfort. But he quietly waited.

Riena didn’t know much about him, but she could tell he was the type to care deeply, even if he didn’t express it well. He had been like that in her dream too.

“Sorry… It just reminded me of my father.”

“I understand.”

Wiping away tears—or maybe rain—Riena began reading again.

To Cassel,
I heard you’ve inherited the title. I can only imagine the grief of losing your father so suddenly. William was my dearest friend. I cannot say he was a perfect father to you, but please remember that he worried about you until the end.

Only then did Riena realize what Cassel had meant by “I understand.” It wasn’t a hollow platitude—it was a comfort born of personal experience.

She continued reading. The next part spoke of Cassel’s father, William—how hardworking and capable he was, how much effort he put into raising Cassel to be a worthy successor.

It started to feel a bit too personal, and Riena considered stopping—until suddenly, her name appeared.

Do you still remember my daughter, Riena? That tomboy Ria you used to play with as a child?

Riena quickly unfolded the letter again.

They spent time together as children?

She was sure she had no memory of him. How could she forget someone with such a strong presence?

But it was her father’s words—he wouldn’t lie.

She’s twenty now. If I remember right, you’re only a year older. I’m not saying this just because she’s my daughter, but she’s grown into a lovely, spirited woman—so much so that some strange rascal keeps pursuing her persistently.

Rascal? What was that supposed to mean?

As far as Riena knew, no man had shown romantic interest in her. She’d never had the chance to meet one.

The only possibility was…

‘Could he mean Lord Belliar?’

But who in the Empire would dare call Johannes a rascal?

Pushing aside the confusion, she read on.

You two once wore flower rings and said you’d get married when you grew up. I laughed at the childish promise, but I thought it was a sweet idea. You both looked happiest when together.

Flower rings, marriage…

Something stirred faintly in her memory.

William and I talked about it too. He liked the idea. But then you left the Dyke estate and became your family’s successor, and we couldn’t bring it up again.

But Cassel, I’ve been worrying a lot lately as I age. If something happens to me, Ria will be left all alone. There’s no one left to protect her in this world.

That’s why I want to give her a new family—before it’s too late.

So if you still remember her—and the promise you made as children—would you take responsibility for her?

I’m not forcing you.
But if something were to happen to me, and Ria is left alone, I just want to know—could you become her family?

By the time she reached that part, Riena was on the verge of tears again. It was clear: Count Dyke had been worrying about his daughter until his final breath.

Even if that weren’t the case, he’d asked Cassel to look after her as if she were family.

The letter continued, but Riena couldn’t see any of the words anymore.

In essence, it was a marriage proposal.

It didn’t matter why her father had done this without telling her.

All that filled her mind was one thought.

“If something happens to me…”

It was as if her father had known something would happen.

Or… had he brought this upon himself by speaking such ominous words?

Riena looked up at Cassel with a confused expression.

And perhaps that was a signal.

Cassel glanced at the knight behind him. The knight pulled something from a bag and handed it to him.

He accepted it carefully, then knelt down on one knee before her. Unlike the frail scene in her dream, he looked solemn and composed now.

“P-please, stand up. Your pants will get wet.”

Riena tried to lift him up quickly, but Cassel didn’t budge. Instead, he handed her a bouquet.

Three small sunflowers surrounded by delicate white baby’s breath.

The bouquet was slightly crumpled and wilted—likely from a rushed trip—but somehow Riena liked it. It felt genuine, like it held Cassel’s sincerity.

As if in a trance, she accepted it. Then Cassel took out a small box from his coat.

Inside was a rather large diamond ring, sparkling even in the dark.

No way…

It finally dawned on her what Cassel was doing.

He was proposing to her—Riena Dyke, who had barely even seen his face before.

With a dazed expression, she glanced between the ring and Cassel’s face.

Cassel murmured apologetically,

“I came in such a hurry that I couldn’t prepare a new ring.”

“…”

“But this is my mother’s engagement ring. It holds special meaning for me. I hope you won’t be upset.”

Upset? That was absurd. Riena knew how meaningful it was in noble families to receive a parent or grandparent’s ring for a proposal.

Cassel might have apologized for not bringing a new one, but this ring was even more valuable.

Riena wasn’t sure whether to stop him before he said more—or to let him finish.

Unable to decide, her lips just parted slightly.

But Cassel spoke first.

“Lady Dyke, I know this is sudden. But I ask, despite the boldness.”

His blue gaze locked with hers.

She couldn’t remember when or where, but she’d once heard of blue flames—cool in color but hotter than red fire.

In that moment, she thought the comparison might be true.

Cassel’s eyes burned with more intensity than any gaze she’d seen before.

Whether it was affection, desire, longing—or something else entirely—she didn’t know.

But just looking into his eyes made her throat dry, as if parched.

Even with rain pouring over his face, he didn’t so much as blink.

Would anyone ever look at her like this again?

As Riena swallowed dryly, Cassel spoke once more.

“Will you marry me?”

It really was a proposal.
Riena stopped breathing for a moment.