The late afternoon tea time was warm with the winter sunlight streaming through the window and the warmth of the wood fire in the fireplace. After talking about this and that, Angie opened up about something she had been curious about. No matter how much of a friend a mother and daughter are, they can't tell each other everything. Even in an absolute relationship, there are bound to be relative secrets.
“Mom. The young master...”
She tried to make her voice sound as flat as possible as if she were asking about her neighbors rather than someone who was on her mind almost every moment of every day.
“Is His Highness still in bad condition?”
“That’s what it looks like. I stopped by the Duke’s residence a little while ago on business at the villa, and the atmosphere in the house was subdued. But it wasn’t all heavy and gloomy...”
“What if he keeps hurting like that?”
Angie added hastily.
“He is the only descendant of the Duke. Edward is also not feeling well, and if his only son is like that...”
“The doctor is almost done with the new drug. I don’t know the details, but...It’ll be okay. By the way, Angie, you...”
The mother opened her eyes wide and stared at her daughter.
“I guess you’ve grown quite attached to him over the years of talking to him. It’s amazing to see you worrying so much... Well, it’s only been a year and a half, so I guess that’s to be expected.”
“Oh, no. I just feel sorry for him. Even if we become attached, it’s nothing more or less than the relationship between the master and his servant.”
“...”
“The young master indeed feels closer to me than before... but it’s just what Mrs. Dunst thinks of the young master.”
“Yes. Anyway, the young master is getting better. The doctors are doing everything they can. They might call you back as soon as next week.”
Laura looked at her daughter, who was eating her pie in silence, with a meaningful look in her eyes. She picked up the steaming teapot and filled her daughter's empty cup.
“Mom, but I don’t have anything like sleepwalking... is that really true?”
Angie suddenly remembered something and asked her mother to confirm the symptoms of sleepwalking.
“There’s no such thing. Mom wakes up at dawn sometimes, but I’ve never seen you do that.”
“I was really just sleeping? Since last month...”
“That’s right. You just saw someone in your dream and walked around... That’s what it was like.”
“No, that’s fine. But Mom... I forgot to ask Aunt Sue for the lemon pie recipe. I’ll stop by tomorrow and write it down.”
Angie quickly changed the subject, allaying Laura's concerns. It seemed pointless to mention the matter any further.
A few days ago, after wandering through the forest at night, she woke up in bed just as the sun was rising. And out of the blue, she told her mother and father in detail what had happened the night before.
She was very excited about the strange echoes that reverberated throughout the village, the loud noises that sounded like the howling of animals, the black figures wandering through the forest, and... a man she had seen with her own two eyes. But her parents only showed expressions that seemed to question their daughter’s sanity.
"What the hell are you talking about, Angie? We didn't hear a thing last night. And your clothes and boots were still hanging by the door, all dry. And the door was locked."
"Yeah. When I came to your room right after dawn, you were sleeping soundly as usual. You were still in your pajamas, sleeping soundly, oblivious to the world."
"What kind of dream have you been having since the new year? Anyway, nothing happened last night, so wake up and have breakfast."
She was shocked. Was what she had experienced last night a dream? She had clearly put on her cloak and boots, opened the front door, and gone into the forest to see those strange things with her own eyes!
The sound of her footsteps on the snow, rustling, breaking the stillness, is still vivid. And the thrill of cold sweat running down her spine when she saw the black silhouette moving quickly in the distance? Even now, looking back on that fear, it's still chilling. And above all, that man.
Two eyes that sparkled blue-gray, reflecting the moonlight. Perfect skin. A beauty that made it hard to believe he was from this world.
If he had seen wings or even feathers behind his back, she would have immediately agreed. She would have said that the Archangel Raphael, whom she had only seen in illustrated books, had descended upon them. He had come down to Cullinan, the island that was like their little nest, with some kind of revelation.
After that, there was only darkness. Angie couldn't remember anything after seeing the man's face. Was it a dream? But it was so vivid.
Could it be that she has some kind of sleepwalking disorder? She unconsciously opens the door and goes out, then comes back, naturally puts her clothes and boots back in place, and then goes back to bed and falls asleep. If so, what were those echoes and dark shadows? And who was that angelic, beautiful man?
Angie came out of her flashbacks of a few days ago and went into her room. She wrote down Aunt Sue's lemon pie recipe on a piece of paper, then pulled up her embroidery basket and picked up a needle.
She was thinking of making rose tea, but changed her mind and put a spoonful of honey in hot water. Her throat has been a little sore lately, so she's been drinking honey tea instead of rose tea for several days.
That night, Angie was in a dream. It wasn't about a beautiful man she didn't know. It was about another man, or more accurately, someone whose face she couldn't see. This was the second time she had a dream.
"Hey! Can you hear me? Miss!"
The voice was a little clearer than when she first heard it. The earnest tone was that of a young man.
Angie twitched her lips. She wanted to say that she heard it. But no words came out. Her eyes, tightly shut, wouldn’t open either. This time, too, her body felt weightless, floating as if she had sunk into deep water. There was no feeling in her limbs.
"Nod your head if you can hear me!"
Angie barely managed to move her head up and down. Her body was not moving as she wanted it to, and even that small movement took tremendous strength.
"My name is Martin. Martin Silva!"
Martin Silva? It was the first time she heard that name.
It wasn't a nightmare, but it wasn't just a dream either. How could someone she don't even know keep appearing in her dreams? And it was connected to the previous situation?
Angie shivered. Whatever the man was, he knew something about her. He didn't seem to know her name. But he had a feeling he knew why the two of them kept meeting in their dreams.
“Martin Silva...? Who is that person?”
Angie got out of bed, fumbled for a matchbox, and lit the lamp on her desk. She pulled a notebook from the shelf. It was a list of birthdays for neighbors who met at the chapel every weekend. But there was no Martin Silva. There was no family with the name Silva. She had never heard of a family with that name in any other community.
“Silva... Is he Latino?”
Of the Blackwells' men, only Mr. Pedro Horace and his family were Mediterranean Latins that she knew of. And apart from a few Turkic families, led by Lady Dunst of the dukedom and Yasmin the chamberlain, all were Caucasian.
The island was a multicultural community of various races. It was only natural. This was a community of survivors from various countries who had barely survived a war that had engulfed the entire world. Angie sat in front of the dim light, thinking again about the man who had introduced himself as Martin.
It was a nice voice to hear. It wasn't a deep voice with a rich resonance like Kai's, but...
At that moment, the young master who was fighting the illness in the darkroom of the duke's residence suddenly came to mind. Angie's mind was quickly filled with thoughts about him. Before she knew it, she had forgotten about the man in her dream.
She blew out the lamp with her breath and walked over to the dark window. The winter night moon was as bright as ever that day.
I hope Kai is okay...?
“Mom. The young master...”
She tried to make her voice sound as flat as possible as if she were asking about her neighbors rather than someone who was on her mind almost every moment of every day.
“Is His Highness still in bad condition?”
“That’s what it looks like. I stopped by the Duke’s residence a little while ago on business at the villa, and the atmosphere in the house was subdued. But it wasn’t all heavy and gloomy...”
“What if he keeps hurting like that?”
Angie added hastily.
“He is the only descendant of the Duke. Edward is also not feeling well, and if his only son is like that...”
“The doctor is almost done with the new drug. I don’t know the details, but...It’ll be okay. By the way, Angie, you...”
The mother opened her eyes wide and stared at her daughter.
“I guess you’ve grown quite attached to him over the years of talking to him. It’s amazing to see you worrying so much... Well, it’s only been a year and a half, so I guess that’s to be expected.”
“Oh, no. I just feel sorry for him. Even if we become attached, it’s nothing more or less than the relationship between the master and his servant.”
“...”
“The young master indeed feels closer to me than before... but it’s just what Mrs. Dunst thinks of the young master.”
“Yes. Anyway, the young master is getting better. The doctors are doing everything they can. They might call you back as soon as next week.”
Laura looked at her daughter, who was eating her pie in silence, with a meaningful look in her eyes. She picked up the steaming teapot and filled her daughter's empty cup.
“Mom, but I don’t have anything like sleepwalking... is that really true?”
Angie suddenly remembered something and asked her mother to confirm the symptoms of sleepwalking.
“There’s no such thing. Mom wakes up at dawn sometimes, but I’ve never seen you do that.”
“I was really just sleeping? Since last month...”
“That’s right. You just saw someone in your dream and walked around... That’s what it was like.”
“No, that’s fine. But Mom... I forgot to ask Aunt Sue for the lemon pie recipe. I’ll stop by tomorrow and write it down.”
Angie quickly changed the subject, allaying Laura's concerns. It seemed pointless to mention the matter any further.
A few days ago, after wandering through the forest at night, she woke up in bed just as the sun was rising. And out of the blue, she told her mother and father in detail what had happened the night before.
She was very excited about the strange echoes that reverberated throughout the village, the loud noises that sounded like the howling of animals, the black figures wandering through the forest, and... a man she had seen with her own two eyes. But her parents only showed expressions that seemed to question their daughter’s sanity.
"What the hell are you talking about, Angie? We didn't hear a thing last night. And your clothes and boots were still hanging by the door, all dry. And the door was locked."
"Yeah. When I came to your room right after dawn, you were sleeping soundly as usual. You were still in your pajamas, sleeping soundly, oblivious to the world."
"What kind of dream have you been having since the new year? Anyway, nothing happened last night, so wake up and have breakfast."
She was shocked. Was what she had experienced last night a dream? She had clearly put on her cloak and boots, opened the front door, and gone into the forest to see those strange things with her own eyes!
The sound of her footsteps on the snow, rustling, breaking the stillness, is still vivid. And the thrill of cold sweat running down her spine when she saw the black silhouette moving quickly in the distance? Even now, looking back on that fear, it's still chilling. And above all, that man.
Two eyes that sparkled blue-gray, reflecting the moonlight. Perfect skin. A beauty that made it hard to believe he was from this world.
If he had seen wings or even feathers behind his back, she would have immediately agreed. She would have said that the Archangel Raphael, whom she had only seen in illustrated books, had descended upon them. He had come down to Cullinan, the island that was like their little nest, with some kind of revelation.
After that, there was only darkness. Angie couldn't remember anything after seeing the man's face. Was it a dream? But it was so vivid.
Could it be that she has some kind of sleepwalking disorder? She unconsciously opens the door and goes out, then comes back, naturally puts her clothes and boots back in place, and then goes back to bed and falls asleep. If so, what were those echoes and dark shadows? And who was that angelic, beautiful man?
Angie came out of her flashbacks of a few days ago and went into her room. She wrote down Aunt Sue's lemon pie recipe on a piece of paper, then pulled up her embroidery basket and picked up a needle.
She was thinking of making rose tea, but changed her mind and put a spoonful of honey in hot water. Her throat has been a little sore lately, so she's been drinking honey tea instead of rose tea for several days.
***
That night, Angie was in a dream. It wasn't about a beautiful man she didn't know. It was about another man, or more accurately, someone whose face she couldn't see. This was the second time she had a dream.
"Hey! Can you hear me? Miss!"
The voice was a little clearer than when she first heard it. The earnest tone was that of a young man.
Angie twitched her lips. She wanted to say that she heard it. But no words came out. Her eyes, tightly shut, wouldn’t open either. This time, too, her body felt weightless, floating as if she had sunk into deep water. There was no feeling in her limbs.
"Nod your head if you can hear me!"
Angie barely managed to move her head up and down. Her body was not moving as she wanted it to, and even that small movement took tremendous strength.
"My name is Martin. Martin Silva!"
Martin Silva? It was the first time she heard that name.
"Listen to me carefully, miss. I..."
Suddenly, there was a huge explosion. She couldn't open her eyes, but the huge waves were transmitted through her whole body. And Angie opened her eyes.
"Ha...!"
Angie jerked up and took a deep breath. It seemed as if she had been suffocating the entire time in her dream. Her breathing was ragged as if some invisible hand had been choking her the entire time.
What was that just now? That guy...?
Suddenly, there was a huge explosion. She couldn't open her eyes, but the huge waves were transmitted through her whole body. And Angie opened her eyes.
"Ha...!"
Angie jerked up and took a deep breath. It seemed as if she had been suffocating the entire time in her dream. Her breathing was ragged as if some invisible hand had been choking her the entire time.
What was that just now? That guy...?
It wasn't a nightmare, but it wasn't just a dream either. How could someone she don't even know keep appearing in her dreams? And it was connected to the previous situation?
Angie shivered. Whatever the man was, he knew something about her. He didn't seem to know her name. But he had a feeling he knew why the two of them kept meeting in their dreams.
“Martin Silva...? Who is that person?”
Angie got out of bed, fumbled for a matchbox, and lit the lamp on her desk. She pulled a notebook from the shelf. It was a list of birthdays for neighbors who met at the chapel every weekend. But there was no Martin Silva. There was no family with the name Silva. She had never heard of a family with that name in any other community.
“Silva... Is he Latino?”
Of the Blackwells' men, only Mr. Pedro Horace and his family were Mediterranean Latins that she knew of. And apart from a few Turkic families, led by Lady Dunst of the dukedom and Yasmin the chamberlain, all were Caucasian.
The island was a multicultural community of various races. It was only natural. This was a community of survivors from various countries who had barely survived a war that had engulfed the entire world. Angie sat in front of the dim light, thinking again about the man who had introduced himself as Martin.
It was a nice voice to hear. It wasn't a deep voice with a rich resonance like Kai's, but...
At that moment, the young master who was fighting the illness in the darkroom of the duke's residence suddenly came to mind. Angie's mind was quickly filled with thoughts about him. Before she knew it, she had forgotten about the man in her dream.
She blew out the lamp with her breath and walked over to the dark window. The winter night moon was as bright as ever that day.
I hope Kai is okay...?
According to what her Mom said, he is gradually recovering. The new medicine the doctors developed is almost finished.
Angie placed a hand on her chest. It may have been an unconscious gesture to suppress the emotions that were slowly blooming inside her. Her heart was slowly sinking into something like a longing for the master she had never seen before. She really wanted to see Kai.
She wishes she could meet Kai soon. If it was too presumptuous to want to see his face... Right now, just hearing his voice is enough. So she hoped he get better soon so they could talk again like before.
Angie stepped away from the window and laid back down on the bed. She closed her eyes, clasped her hands together in prayer, and placed them on her chest.
God. Please let Kai get better soon. Get better soon... so we can meet again in better health.
Angie placed a hand on her chest. It may have been an unconscious gesture to suppress the emotions that were slowly blooming inside her. Her heart was slowly sinking into something like a longing for the master she had never seen before. She really wanted to see Kai.
She wishes she could meet Kai soon. If it was too presumptuous to want to see his face... Right now, just hearing his voice is enough. So she hoped he get better soon so they could talk again like before.
Angie stepped away from the window and laid back down on the bed. She closed her eyes, clasped her hands together in prayer, and placed them on her chest.
God. Please let Kai get better soon. Get better soon... so we can meet again in better health.
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