The Most Comfortable Place (2)

The moment I opened my eyes and saw that disgusting face, my mood instantly soured. I’d seen that greasy mug so many times now that even though I didn’t want to remember it, the insult reflexively burst from my lips.

“You fucking bastard.”

Just how long did he plan to torment me before being satisfied?

Of course, it wasn’t like Machart actually had a way to torment me directly, making his face keep appearing in my dreams. It was just that I couldn’t let go of my wariness toward him, causing me to repeatedly have these dreams.

As someone entangled with demons and aware of Machart’s abilities, the subconscious fear that he could break into my bedroom and kidnap me at any moment had been gnawing away at my sleep for days, becoming the source of my exhaustion.

‘Damn it… I’m tied up again…’

The moment I saw his face, I instinctively wanted to move my right hand and stab his throat, but just like in all my previous dreams, my wrists were tightly bound by something in the darkness and wouldn’t budge.

“It’s useless. You’re already captured.”

Machart smirked smugly at my immobilized state, his rotten smile soon followed by that same greasy voice that had haunted me countless times, churning my stomach.

“You have no idea how much effort I put into capturing you. Why is a noble lady so unruly and resistant?”

“……”

“Is it because you were originally a commoner with no upbringing? That’s the only explanation I can think of.”

Stay calm. Don’t let him provoke you.

If I could just firmly recognize that this was a dream, I could wake up somehow.

Machart’s comment about my commoner origins, or the fact that he couldn’t have realistically kept me tied up like this-there were plenty of unrealistic elements in this dream world that I needed to recognize clearly to escape this nightmare.

‘But what if this situation isn’t a dream… No, it has to be. There’s no way this isn’t a dream.’

Only about five people knew I wasn’t originally a noble, and none of them were particularly close to Machart or loose-lipped.

There were plenty of other elements that confirmed this was a dream. To wake up, I had to keep engraving that fact in my mind.

This strangely realistic sensation, the inexplicable feeling of reality clinging to my body-it was all just an illusion created by my mind. It was just because I had briefly been trapped in Machart’s space before escaping, leading to these hyper-realistic dreams.

‘I’d rather not be able to think properly like in a normal dream. That would be easier.’

Having just enough awareness left to seethe with hatred for the bastard in front of me made it twice as painful. And since I’d been having these dreams every night after returning to the Blackwood mansion and sleeping alone, my mental state was naturally deteriorating.

Machart’s attack had happened much earlier, so I might have had these dreams before, but if I did, I probably forgot them quickly and fell back asleep.

At the academy, I could always feel Ethan’s warmth beside me in the same bed, which reassured me. With Ethan next to me, I could relax and go back to sleep, knowing he’d protect me if anything went wrong.

Even in the academy’s infirmary, though the bed was different, sharing the space with Agnes gave me some peace of mind, though not as much as Ethan did.

But in the Blackwood mansion, I had no choice but to sleep alone for three nights, meaning I had to find a way to escape these nightmares on my own.

“So, are you starting to feel like obeying me yet?”

‘Don’t engage. It’s just a dream. No need to rise to his taunts.’

“There’s no way for you to escape me. Once I’ve trapped you in this space, you have no means of resistance.”

‘Ignore him. Don’t listen to anything. It’s all nonsense anyway.’

“It was a relief when that leech disappeared. I almost had to mar that pretty body of yours. Right?”

‘Please wake up. Quickly. It’s just a dream. Wake up, wake up, wake up…’

I forced myself to ignore Machart as he shamelessly recited lines I’d heard dozens of times before, focusing all my energy on waking up.

With my wrists and ankles bound by his dark grip, escaping by swinging a sword like last time was impossible.

Since this was his space, I couldn’t even use magic. Of course, one might argue that since this was my dream, I could use it if I imagined hard enough-but I’d already tried that dozens of times in previous dreams, and it never worked.

If I stayed in this standoff with him for too long, the outcome was predictable. So I tensed my body and poured all my consciousness into waking up.

Even if this was a dream, I didn’t want anything weird happening with Machart, that bastard.

No matter if it was a dream, I didn’t want it.

I had to focus solely on waking up, erasing Machart’s presence from my mind. If I even vaguely recalled his image, waking up would become even more impossible…

“Though, even if that stupid young master had been by your side, the result wouldn’t have been much different. Someone who hasn’t even reached Sword Master level wouldn’t stand a chance against me.”

‘What the hell, bastard?’

“What the hell, bastard?”

-Smirk.

…Oops.

Damn it, why did he suddenly bring up Ethan?

I had been on the verge of concentrating enough to wake up, but his sudden mention of Ethan-not even me-completely shattered my focus.

And Machart, seeing my reaction, immediately smirked and approached without hesitation. That one remark had completely ruined my chance to escape.

“Still as foul-mouthed as ever.”

“……”

“A lady who lacks even basic manners like you needs to be reeducated from scratch.”

With those final words, Machart reached toward my chest.

I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to look ahead, desperately denying what was about to happen.

Even if this was just a dream, I had no intention of letting that bastard have my body. If I were to give my body to any man, it would only be Ethan…

-Slash!

Then came the sound of a blade cutting through flesh.

For a moment, I wondered if the dream version of Machart had injured me, but I felt no pain.

“Aaaah!!”

The scream that followed wasn’t mine-it belonged to the bastard who had just been smirking at me.

And as a strange sense of anticipation rose in my chest, I cautiously opened my eyes to see not Machart, but someone’s reliable back.

“What do you think you’re doing to my Lilith?”

“H-how…?”

“Even if this is a dream, I won’t let you have Lilith for even a moment.”

…Had any of my previous dreams ever followed this pattern?

Usually, I’d force myself awake right before Machart’s hands touched me, then fall asleep again only to repeat the cycle until I was too afraid to sleep and stayed up all night.

But I hadn’t expected to not only fail to escape this damn dream but also have Ethan appear to save me.

‘…He’s kind of reliable, though.’

In reality, I’d leaned on that broad back a few times, but who knew I’d be saved by him even in my dreams?

It was absurd, but I didn’t care. It was still better than being helplessly violated by Machart.

-Slash!

“Aaaah!”

-Stab!

“Ugh, aaaah!!”

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one startled by Ethan’s appearance-the subconscious version of Machart was being mercilessly sliced apart by Ethan’s sword.

“Y-you bastard…!!”

-Squelch!

“Aah, aaaaaah!!”

…He was getting absolutely demolished, but I decided to just go with it.

Even if this was a nightmare, it was still my dream, so I must be seeing what I wanted to see. No matter how unrealistic it seemed, it was still better than Ethan losing.

As Ethan’s sudden attack reduced Machart to pieces-no, even further, into individual consonants and vowels-the dark grip restraining my limbs finally loosened.

-Thud.

“Lilith, are you okay?”

“……”

“Let’s go inside and rest. You must be exhausted after these past few days…”

…His voice suddenly sounded oddly realistic. And the sensation in my body felt as if I were truly being held in Ethan’s arms.

Even in a dream, he really was acting like a prince on a white horse. Not only did he appear out of nowhere to save me from the villain, but now he was carrying me like a princess.

Normally, even in a dream, I would have been flustered, but right now, I didn’t particularly care. At least being held in Ethan’s arms was more comforting than the nightmare of being violated by Machart over and over.

‘Ah, right, I should reward him…’

Even if this was a dream, I owed him, so it was only right to give Ethan a reward as usual.

My mind was too foggy to think clearly, but I still remembered exactly what I was supposed to do in this situation.

‘Ethan likes physical contact, so something similar should suffice as thanks. But in this position, touching his chest is impossible…’

Following the train of thought in my head, I wrapped my arms around Ethan’s neck and lightly leaned into his nape.

-Swoosh.

“…Lilith?”

Then, lifting my upper body slightly, I brought my lips to his.

-Smack.

“……?!?!”

It was just a kiss in a dream, but for some reason, the sensation felt as soft and real as if it had happened in reality.

Just like Ethan’s embrace-warm and comforting.