Chapter 53
The Second Dream
“Do people discuss business at a lakeside?”
But what came out of her mouth was that instead.
In the end, she didn’t ask. Once again, she pretended not to know about that day. For the sake of her revenge, she turned a blind eye to the man’s pain.
Suddenly, she felt disgusted with herself.
It was a useless emotion.
“As long as you don’t suggest we go swimming together, that’s fine. Every day I learn there are plenty of people in the world with… unique tastes.”
Damion laughed. Ansi followed his laugh and nodded.
It was as if his expression hypnotized her brain—just smiling made her heart feel lighter. She even wondered if she might actually be enjoying herself.
He glanced at his watch and asked,
“Do you have time now?”
It was still too early to sleep. Ansi nodded.
“I have something to show you.”
“What is it?”
“Come with me.”
Damion reached his hand toward her. Almost in a trance, Ansi stepped forward and took it.
They walked together. Going down to the first floor and passing through the corridor, they ran into a few servants.
The servants wore faint smiles, and even as they bowed, Ansi realized their gazes lingered on the clasped hands of the master and mistress. Her face heated.
She was getting used to holding his hand now. That realization made her feel both light and oddly uneasy.
“We’re here.”
They stepped into a room on the first floor.
Ansi had never been there before.
Damion switched on the light. The room brightened, revealing countless objects draped in white cloth. It wasn’t hard to guess they were paintings.
“I thought all your paintings were in the gallery.”
His estate had its own gallery, and even those works were numerous enough that she thought that was everything. Yet here was a whole room full of un-hung paintings.
“The gallery’s paintings are rotated regularly. When I change them out, I either sell them or store them here. Some I’ve bought but haven’t hung yet.”
Damion lifted one of the white covers, revealing a painting.
As Ansi nodded, she suddenly realized why Damion had brought her here. She clapped enthusiastically.
“You really love art. That’s impressive.”
It must be that he wanted to boast about how many paintings he had. Elise had said men were like children—give them a little praise and they’d be delighted.
“That’s not it.”
Damion gave a small cough. But despite his denial, there was a smile tugging at his lips.
“This one I got at the Spring Hall exhibition three years ago. That one’s by the master Serpio during his time studying in Silonia…”
His ears were slightly red as he showed her more works. His tone was as composed as usual, but there was a subtle excitement in it.
So Elise had been right—he really liked this kind of praise. Ansi didn’t quite understand it, but she kept applauding.
Well, it wasn’t entirely empty praise. Even to someone like her who knew little about art, these paintings looked valuable. It was worth commending that he had an eye for such things.
Finally, all the covers on the paintings nearby were removed. But there was one large piece leaning against the wall that Damion still hadn’t uncovered. Why not that one?
Ansi’s eyes lingered on it. Beside her, Damion’s voice was quietly thrilled.
“That one, you should uncover yourself. It’s what I brought you here to see.”
“Oh, so it’s not any of these?”
“I wasn’t planning to show you these at all.”
“…”
Ansi stepped up to the large painting and carefully pulled away the cloth.
Shrrrk—the fabric fell, and the painting revealed itself.
“Ah…!”
She gasped in awe.
A black sky tinged with violet. An overwhelming grandeur that swallowed everything in sight.
Her eyes shone as she stepped back, tracing the stars from the left upward, then to the right. She followed each constellation across the canvas.
“This painting…”
She was certain. This exact, precise arrangement of stars—she had only seen it once before.
Before she married Damion, at the Spring Hall art exhibition, they had seen a night sky painting together.
“Why is this here?”
She distinctly remembered it had been marked as sold, though she didn’t know to whom.
“Don’t tell me… you’re the one who bought it?”
“I was going to give it to you as soon as we got married, but the timing didn’t work out.”
Damion smiled a little sheepishly.
“So this is… a gift for me?”
“That’s right.”
A gift? Then he must have bought it thinking she would like it. Ansi stared blankly at the painting, unsure how to respond to such an unexpected present. She clasped her hands together, fiddling with her fingers.
“That’s Leo, and that’s Virgo, right?”
Standing behind her, Damion reached past her shoulder and pointed to the stars on the canvas. The nearness of him made Ansi hold her breath.
When she didn’t answer, he lowered his hand, sounding disappointed.
“No? I studied for this, you know.”
“…You studied?”
“To impress you. I only picked the brightest ones.”
The thought of him hurriedly learning about the brightest constellations just for her made Ansi smile.
“That’s right. If you connect Denebola in Leo and Spica in Virgo, you get a large triangle. You know your stuff.”
“But the best one is still Arcturus. Because you taught me—it’s the one that guards the bear, or rather, the family.”
Her chest ached at his words.
That’s what marriage is, isn’t it? The husband protects the wife, and the wife protects the husband.
Roma’s words came back to her. And she thought—maybe the “family” Damion spoke of protecting that day wasn’t his parents or his brother. Maybe, right now, the only person he could call family was his wife.
“Um…”
She glanced back at him.
But in the end, she said nothing.
Not about Geris, not about anything else… nothing at all.
“What is it?”
“…Elma said we should change the curtains now that it’s summer. What color do you think would be good?”
“Whichever you like.”
Damion chuckled as if finding her remark frivolous. The cool warmth of that laugh so close made her force her lips into a smile.
“Can I hang this painting in my room?”
“It would be an honor.”
“Then I’ll have the curtains match the painting.”
“Then I’ll have to visit your room often. To see the painting.”
Ansi nodded.
They stood silently for a while, gazing at the picture. It really felt as though they were looking up at the night sky together.
In the quiet, Ansi could hear her heartbeat louder than usual.
She wasn’t even touching him, yet every nerve felt on edge—strangely so.
To push that sensation away, she focused on each star.
She didn’t know if bringing this cascade of night sky into her room was the right thing to do.
But right now, she wanted to. She wanted to keep near her the spring sky they had once seen together, and this moment.
Blink—bright natural light filled her vision.
Blink—a man’s broad back came into view as he walked ahead.
Blink—hair the pale yellow of sunlight. A proud, composed stride. The faint, alluring scent of musk.
Ansi shook her head hard, squeezing her eyes shut before opening them again. The fog over her consciousness cleared, and the scene sharpened.
Damion was walking ahead of her. Under a fine blue sky, the green-lined path was somewhere she’d been before.
Damion, where…
Ansi trailed off. A cold shiver crawled up her spine. The mark on her lower back, which had shown no change in days, felt almost hot.
There was no mistake—this was that dream again.
The one where Damion de Orphet dies.
Suddenly, Damion stopped walking.
A stillness wrapped around him.
Then, as if sensing something nearby, he quickly scanned the surroundings. Without warning, he dropped flat to the ground.
Bang!
A gunshot rang out. From behind a distant tree, a bullet flew toward them.
…!
Ansi froze, unable even to scream.
The bullet passed through the space where his head had just been. If he hadn’t ducked, it would have struck him dead-on.
Thankfully, he had moved in time. The shot hadn’t touched him. It seemed second nature for him to evade danger—how fortunate that he had once been a soldier.
Hurry, Damion, hurry and run.
She didn’t know who had fired the shot, but they needed to get to cover, somewhere the shooter couldn’t see them. With his quick reflexes, he should be able to make it.
But something was wrong.
Damion stayed where he was, still crouched on the ground.
Damion?
Slowly, he began to rise to his knees. But he didn’t run.
His head bowed low, his face twisted in pain as he clutched one ear.
Very slowly—painfully slowly—…
