“Mikhail.”
Adrian called his name. Watching him sweat through his clothes with a soft groan, he looked genuinely concerned. Was that mark what’s causing Mikhail such distress? He needed to investigate further.
“…You should try to sleep more. You kept tossing and turning even before you nodded off.”
What filled Adrian’s thoughts was the curse. Something ominous and incomprehensible was clearly wreaking havoc on Mikhail’s mental state. With a flick of his fingers—swish—an old book materialized before him, its cover titled [Ancient Curses and the Marks They Leave].
“…A nightmare, huh.”
Adrian’s eyes flashed for a moment.
“I am you, Adrian.”
That man’s voice echoed faintly in his ears again. It definitely seemed connected to that thing.
As if nothing had happened, Adrian turned the pages in silence, ruminating deeply. He would only speak to Mikhail once he had confirmed more. For now, he kept it to himself.
***
The next day, Adrian’s dilemma continued.
If the mark glowing on their chests wasn’t a curse… then what the hell was it? Rubbing his forehead in frustration, Adrian clicked his tongue.
It’d be better if it were just a curse.
If that were the case, all they’d need to do was find the caster and kill them, or locate a spell to dispel it—simple. But this situation was far more unusual.
According to Mikhail, he’d been having strange dreams every night. A realm of subconsciousness… a talking lion… It wasn’t the kind of thing Mikhail would ever imagine on his own.
Last night’s dream had brought back a memory—the meeting tied to Mikhail’s wedding. That man with the dark brown hair.
It was time to thoroughly comb through every ancient text related to dragons.
“What is this alley?”
Mikhail’s clear voice brought Adrian back to reality, snapping him out of his thoughts.
The two of them stood at the entrance to a narrow alley lined with antiques. Beneath a tattered canopy, stalls displayed statues, iron ornaments, and aged tomes. After giving the display a quick once-over, Adrian finally answered the earlier question.
“Looks like a place that sells antiques.”
Adrian’s gaze followed the direction of Mikhail’s and landed on the same thing—a chessboard. It lasted for only the briefest moment, but he noticed Mikhail’s eyes lingering on it.
So he likes that, huh.
Come to think of it, even in last night’s dream, Mikhail had kept a chessboard close at hand. Without waiting for Mikhail to say a word, Adrian bought it and abruptly shoved it into Mikhail’s arms.
A part of him—darkly amused—wanted to put Mikhail in an awkward position, the same way Darphung had once suddenly been foisted upon him. But Mikhail simply smiled and looked genuinely pleased.
“Thanks.”
That pretty face of his smiling like that was… surprisingly bearable. To think he could be so happy over a mere chessboard.
Adrian brushed aside the trivial realization that this was the first time he’d ever given anyone a gift. He stared at Mikhail with an unreadable expression.
If things were always this simple…
If this was the kind of relationship Mikhail wanted between them—if all he had to do was give Mikhail what he wanted, then he was confident he could do it better than anyone else on the continent. But life was never that simple. And that’s what gnawed at Adrian.
The Darphung, nestled in Mikhail’s arms, stretched out its crimson tongue and licked Adrian’s hand as if trying to comfort him.
It didn’t help much.
***
He fell asleep—then opened his eyes, not to a cramped inn room but to a guest chamber in the royal palace.
Adrian let out a short sigh.
“…Ha.”
He hadn’t wanted to share a room with Mikhail precisely because he was afraid he’d have another one of those strange dreams. But Mikhail had insisted on a match of chess, and Adrian had caved. And here they were again.
No doubt about it—sleeping in the same bed was somehow tied to the bizarre dreams.
Lifting his shirt and glancing down at his chest, he saw it there: the golden mark gleaming, bold and unchanging.
Even in the dream, it looks exactly the same.
Irritated for no real reason, Adrian sat up in bed with a sharp movement. He could have just used magic to destroy the dream world. But he hesitated, worried it might somehow affect Mikhail. Acting on impulse didn’t sit well with him.
Which meant the only option was to wait for the dream to end on its own.
Then again, something else came to mind. A question that had been bothering him.
“Is Mikhail… having this same dream?”
Adrian murmured under his breath—and right on cue, a voice answered from beside him.
“Of course he is.”
It was that bastard from the last dream.
A man who looked exactly like Adrian, save for the dark brown hair. He leaned lazily against the ornate window ledge of the royal guest chamber—exactly how Adrian himself often liked to sit.
When the hell did he get here?
Adrian’s lips twisted slightly in annoyance as he crossed the room. The other man, unfazed, glanced over with an uninterested look and shrugged.
“Over there… it’s probably a lot worse than here.”
“What?”
“Think about it. Ah, right—dragons aren’t exactly known for their imagination.”
The man didn’t flinch at all as Adrian strode toward him with a threatening air, shoulders squared and steps heavy.
“This place is the capital, brimming with festivity just before a royal wedding. And it’s all crafted from that sweet little ‘prince’s’ subconscious. For you, this is just like flipping through a fairytale, isn’t it?”
Adrian’s expression hardened. The man let out a snicker, clearly enjoying his reaction.
“But Mikhail? He’s wandering around inside your subconscious right now. Imagine that.”
“…”
“Just picture how he’s being treated in there… Ahh, that dream must be so much more entertaining.”
“You’ve got disgusting taste.”
“Insult me all you want—it’s still your own face you’re spitting on, you realize that, right?”
The moment the man flashed a serene smile, Adrian’s fury snapped.
Smack!
With a sharp sound of impact, the man’s face whipped to the side.
“Ow, ow…” he muttered, touching his reddening cheek with the back of his hand. His eyes glinted as he glared at Adrian.
“Come on, today’s my wedding day.”
Adrian, unfazed, replied in a flat tone.
“Why are we even having these dreams?”
“Why the hell are you asking me that?”
Then who was he supposed to ask?
Adrian raised his arm again, ready to throw another punch, and the man let out a loud, theatrical shriek—“Aagh!”
Watching someone who looked exactly like him flinch in such an exaggerated way completely killed the urge to hit him. If that was his intention, well… credit where it’s due. Adrian flicked the fist he’d struck him with, shaking off the tension.
The man rubbed his cheek with a disgruntled look.
“…You really thought I was the one making you dream like this? That sounds like something straight out of a Darphung’s imagination.”
“Cut the bullshit and just answer the damn question.”
He gave Adrian a bored stare, as if irritated by being asked something so obvious.
“Obviously, it’s Mikhail. You’re in his subconscious right now.”
“…”
Adrian pressed his lips tightly together at that.
Daaang—A church bell rang out across the dreamscape, signaling the start of the wedding.
The man passed by Adrian with a blank look on his face and said, “Guess I better get going.”
Bits of colored paper fluttered through the air, scattered by magic. Crowds of cheerful onlookers had gathered to witness the fairytale wedding of the prince.
The marriage of Prince Mikhail—celebrated across the continent as a valiant hero—wasn’t just a personal milestone, but a festival for the entire kingdom of Rustavaran.
Goddamn it.
Adrian bit down hard on his lower lip and turned away. Watching Mikhail’s wedding to the end was far harder than he’d ever imagined.
Waaaah!
The cheers of the crowd and the sound of fireworks echoed loudly in the distance.
Adrian turned slightly, casting a glance toward the palace where the wedding was now in full swing.
It had started.
Right now, he had the power to fly over there and disrupt the entire ceremony if he wanted.
His fist clenched tightly—then slowly relaxed. But he wouldn’t. That wasn’t what Mikhail truly wanted.
So I’m the intruder… in your subconscious? You dare say that to me?
That was unforgivable. Mikhail should never have said such a thing to him. By now, the reason for the dream had long faded from Adrian’s mind. It didn’t matter anymore. All that remained was a gnawing, venomous doubt toward Mikhail that filled him to the brim.
Yeah… maybe this is better after all.
Though the distance between them should’ve been vast, Adrian felt as if he had locked eyes with Mikhail—eyes filled with something like quiet reproach.
Mikhail wasn’t looking at the man standing beside him. He was looking at Adrian.
From Adrian’s perspective, the man next to Mikhail came into view—smiling radiantly. He looked as if he held in his arms a happiness Adrian had never once been able to grasp. Maybe that was the kind of partner Mikhail needed. Someone who could make him smile like that.
At some point, Adrian’s brow had furrowed tightly.
“I… can’t do that.”
The moment he admitted it, the pain that had been crushing his chest lifted, vanishing in an instant.
At the same time, a familiar voice echoed by his ear.
“…rian.”
And with that, his mind snapped back to reality.
***
The world, once bursting with colorful paper fireworks, folded in on itself—shrinking to a single point, crumpling like paper.
“Adrian, wake up.”
Flinch.
Adrian’s eyelids trembled faintly. His eyes opened at the same moment.
Blinking slowly through the darkness, his pale golden irises shone vividly as they locked onto Mikhail.
