Bring Dante back to life. Save this man.

However, as if mocking my desperation, Dante’s body began to crumble.

I screamed and held onto the collapsing Dante. But Dante, who had crumbled into a powdery state, melted away and disappeared.

There was no answer to my blank call.

In my empty hands, there was nothing to grasp, and only the damp puddle remained to tell me that he had existed here.

…No. This can’t be happening. This is too cruel.

I covered my mouth and cried.

The tears I shed gathered and formed a lake on top of the puddle.

Once again, the woman’s voice was heard.

At the same time.

Splash, splash.

Someone approached me, stepping through the puddle. I managed to lift my head and looked towards the direction of the sound.

The owner of the voice that resented me so much was…

None other than myself.

…Wow, what a terribly vivid dream!

It’s not the first or second time I’ve had a vivid dream in my life, but the dream I had today was particularly more vivid.

If it were a beast, it would be more ferocious than a tiger that had been starved for three days and had its eyes rolled back.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“Yeah. An extremely horrible nightmare at that.”

It was so vivid that my cheeks were damp when I woke up. After waking up in the early morning, I couldn’t go back to sleep because I was sobbing alone for a long time.

As I sighed with dark circles under my eyes, Mari let out a sympathetic groan.

“Don’t worry, Madam. They say dreams are usually the opposite of reality.”

“…You’re right. That saying is true.”

It’s a flattering consolation, but it was surprisingly comforting.

After all, what’s the big deal about dreams? When I lived in the count’s castle, I had nightmares every night to the point of being sick of them.

I stretched out and shook off the unpleasant feeling.

Today is an important day, so I can’t keep feeling down like this.

“By the way, Madam. Did you check the letter sent by Her Highness?”

Mari, who had been smiling contentedly at my refreshed appearance, asked as if she had suddenly remembered.

Ah, that.

I glanced at the letter on the desk. It was a freshly delivered letter that had just arrived this morning.

“I read it. I did read it, but…”

Wondering why Chelsea had sent a letter out of the blue, I tore it open and checked it on the spot as soon as I received it.

“May I ask what the contents were?”

“…She said I have a good friend.”

“A good friend…”

“I think she’s referring to herself.”

Oh.

Siena let out a short exclamation with an indescribable expression. Yeah, I felt exactly the same way.

To think she would send a letter with nothing but ‘You have a good friend’ besides the formal greetings.

…It was almost to the point where I wondered how it differed from a lucky letter. It was both absurd and unsettling to receive it.

Ah. Could it be that the reason my dream was so terrible last night was because of this?

It seemed quite plausible.

“If that’s the case, it’s not bad.”

It’s like exchanging a self-absorbed letter resembling a lucky letter for a terribly unpleasant nightmare.

Feeling much more refreshed thanks to the princess’s letter, I hurriedly prepared to go out.

Today was the day I had planned to go to an important place with Dante.

Perhaps it was because of the chilly air, but a hazy frost kept forming on the carriage window. As I kept rubbing it with my hand and looking outside, I could feel that we were heading towards a place with fewer and fewer people.

“We’re almost there.”

Dante said in a more rigid voice than usual.

I quietly looked at his stiff face and held his hand.

Today was the anniversary of Dante’s brother, Oscar Richter’s death.

The carriage stopped at the entrance of a secluded forest.

Dante took my hand and led me to a spot where a red “No Entry” sign was posted.

“This is the Richter family cemetery.”

“It’s in a place that doesn’t really stand out, huh?”

“…There aren’t many family members to commemorate, and people fear the Richters, calling them monsters.”

Right. That’s how it is.

If they shun even the living as monsters, who knows what they would do to the tombstones of the dead? Rather than being subjected to unnecessary humiliation, they chose to hide it completely.

Hoping that the deceased Richters can rest in peace.

“It’s infuriating, resentful, maddening, and annoying.”

Dante let out a small laugh at my frank expression of anger.

Ah. That’s the first time he laughed today.

Since it’s a special day, he had been wearing a stiff expression all day, so I was a bit worried.

With a relieved heart, I firmly linked arms with Dante.

“If anyone bothers you, tell me. I’ll scold them all.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Yes. I’m quite reliable.”

With much lighter steps, we entered deep into the forest.

Unlike the entrance of the forest, which was overgrown with grass, the further we went in, the more neatly arranged it felt.

And before long, we arrived at a wide open space where tombstones were lined up in a row.

This was the Richter family cemetery.

“This is the first time I’ve come here with someone.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Only members of the Richter family can set foot here. The only exception is Barhan.”

…Family, huh.

That’s right. We are married.

Thinking that way, I somehow felt nervous. It also felt like I was a newlywed bride going to greet the relatives for the first time at a family gathering.

It also felt like I had taken a step into the history of the Richters.

“Is the first head of the Richter family also buried here?”

“Yes. However, there are some who couldn’t be buried. There are a few who lost their lives fighting demons.”

Oh my. I instinctively frowned at the unfortunate story.

And I was angry again.

They risked their lives fighting demons, yet instead of being treated as heroes, they were treated as monsters.

I slowly walked, scanning the names engraved on the tombstones.

The Richter surname, clearly engraved after each unique name, somehow felt a little bitter.

What was even more bitter were the years of birth and death written below the names.

Every single one of them had died at a young age.

Even with a rough estimate, there didn’t seem to be anyone who had lived past forty.

Suddenly, the dream from last night came to mind.

The image of Dante closing his eyes in his youth. I had to bite my lip at the stinging sensation in the corners of my eyes.

“Serpina?”

Oh no. I must have unconsciously tightened my grip on the arm I was holding. At Dante’s cautious call, I pretended to be fine and shrugged my shoulders. I’m not sure if it was effective, though.

Fortunately, instead of asking me why I was acting that way, Dante quietly embraced my shoulders.

Our steps stopped in front of the tombstone at the very end.

‘Oscar Richter’

My heart ached again at the name firmly engraved on the tombstone.