I looked around me in confusion. I was standing in a meadow bathed in the glow of evening light. When last I remembered, I was at the Demon King’s Tower waiting for Heide to return with Lina.

Fairies danced in the last remaining sunbeams, and I could hear running water from somewhere nearby.

This change in my usual environment had me baffled. I racked my brain for the memories of how I had gotten here. I was sure I had never been to a place like this before. There was too much sun, too many pests.

I was so distracted that it took way too long for me to realize that I was not alone. Two children stood arguing in the center of the meadow. A boy and girl no older than eight. The boy, dressed in fine silks and holding a long stick like a sword, stood upon a flat boulder, allowing him to stand a few inches over the girl dressed in a plain servant’s smock. Most of her head was covered with a bonnet, but her face was visible, a sour smirk twisting her mouth as her green eyes watched the ground. The prince did not notice as he waved his stick about and continued his heated rambling.

“––I am a prince, and you are my servant. You are supposed to listen to what I tell you, Servant Girl. And I’m telling you to go back to the palace!” He pointed the stick threateningly at her, but she did not notice.

The girl continued to look at the ground, but not out of fear. It looked more like she was searching for something.

The boy looked down at her expectantly, tossing his hair before planting the tip of the stick at his feet to try and look regal. “Well?”

She spared him a glance before returning to her search, “Sorry, I stopped listening.”

The boy seemed to deflate at her dismissiveness. He opened his mouth to say something, but I did not hear it if he did.

I found myself disengaging from this pointless conversation already. I did not care about people, children least of all—the little gremlins. All they did was cause trouble and make too much noise. I had absolutely no desire to talk to them; even asking where we were was too much for me to bother.

I was glad neither seemed to notice me as I crept back toward the trees. Reaching the closest one, I was about to disappear behind it when I saw the girl run toward me. I felt my pulse quicken at the sight.

My mind went blank at the potential social interaction. I could tear through an army of monsters, but talking to a stranger was still a bit much, even with my crazy high charisma stat. I needed time to prepare myself.

Luckily, I did not need it as the girl bent down and picked up a stick with a look of satisfaction.

“Look what I found!” she said, turning back toward the boy. It looked unremarkable, but I could see the boy’s face twisting with envy. I supposed it looked sturdier than the one he held, much stronger looking.

But the boy’s jealousy was quickly replaced with an arrogance that was somehow familiar to me.

“Ah, excellent. You’ve found me a suitable replacement for my sword, Servant Girl.” He held out a hand toward her. “Give it to me.”

The girl was not impressed. She sheathed the stick in the tie of her apron and gave him a defiant look.

“No. This is mine. I found it first.”

The boy exhaled heavily through his nose, “No?! This is the second time you’ve disobeyed your prince today, Servant Girl. My father will hear of this. He’ll have your mother thrown out for sure.”

I had heard someone who spoke like this before. However, he was a man and not a boy. Where was I? I was not hiding myself in any way, and yet neither kid noticed me.

The girl did not pay the boy much mind either as she drew the stick and examined it, but she did spare him a withering glance. “Hasn’t happened yet. Maybe your father would listen to you if you didn’t sneak out to the woods when you were supposed to be studying.”

The boy sputtered out an incomprehensible response, and the girl took the opportunity to scold him further.

“And I keep telling you, my name’s not ‘Servant Girl,’ it’s Silva.”

My pulse stopped. Did she say Silva? As in, my Silva? I was not the best with faces, even with people I knew. I hardly ever made eye contact when I could help it. But now that I looked closer, the blonde hair spilling from her bonnet did make her face more recognizable as she stared intensely at the stick.

She did the same thing with an actual sword as she checked for damage. But it couldn’t be her. Silva was older than me. Was this girl her sister? Or did she have a child I didn’t know about?

My head started to pound as I tried to make sense of this. I looked between her and the boy, who was on the brink of a temper tantrum.

“How dare you speak to me that way! I am your prince. You will be severely punished for your insolence!”

Silva finally looked away from her stick to raise a confused eyebrow, “Punished for my what? I guess all that studying wasn’t a waste after all, Anno.”

“That’s Prince Anno to you, Servant Girl!”

My brain finally made the connection. I never thought I would ever have to see that arrogant face again, but there he was, much younger than I remembered. The first face I saw in this world, and the one man I hated more than any other.

I seethed silently as the girl smiled up at him. That smile was only meant for me!

“Not much of a prince, from what I can tell,” she said. “Just ‘cause you're born royalty doesn’t mean you deserve respect.”

“Of course it does!” the boy yelled, “I was born better than any commoner. I am better than you! Better than your mother! Therefore, you must obey me like she does! That’s what it means to be a noble. Now give me my sword!” He held out his hand expectantly.

I could see that the prince had not changed much since we had last met, even if he was inexplicably younger. He had that same attitude when he met me—treating me like I was not the most important person in the world. I was there to save his pathetic kingdom, but all he could ever talk about was how much of a nuisance I was for making demands of him.

My hands balled into fists. I ought to punch him right here and now, but Silva beat me to action as she looked between his hand and the prop, then at the prince’s smug face and gave him a familiar foxish smile. “Okay.”

She raised the stick in the air and swung down as hard as she could onto the boy’s hand with a sharp smack.

The prince cried with shock and pain. He stumbled back and fell off the rock, landing with a soft thunk in the grass. I saw his face past the rock as he sat up, cradling his injured hand.

“Ow, ow, ow! Why would you do that, Servant Girl!” Tears were forming in his eyes. “I am your prince…”

Silva stepped upon the rock and stood over him with the tip of the stick pointed at his face, “Now, you’re my prisoner. Prince or not, I’ve got the sword.”

The prince sniffled, trying to keep the tears at bay, “But that’s not fair!”

“So?” said Silva sternly, “What are you gonna do about it? Cry? You want to act like a prince, but all you are is a baby.”

“I’m not a baby,” muttered the boy.

“Coulda fooled me,” she said.

He pouted, “My father will hear about this.”

Silva smirked, “You keep saying that, but I don’t think that’s true.” The boy remained silent. “I bet if I tell him you’re my prisoner right now, he won’t even care, isn’t that right, third prince?”

Ooh, low blow, I thought. Silva had a sharp tongue, even as a kid. There was no need for me to call attention to myself yet. I waited with baited breath for more of her signature disses.

The prince looked at the ground, his tears threatening to spill over. I could see how deeply her words had cut. “Well, at least I have a father. Yours must not have loved you enough to want you or your mother.”

His words hung in the air as the birds seemed silent.

A crack appeared in Silva’s stern disposition as a pained expression passed over her face, which then tightened into anger. “I challenge you to a duel!”

The boy looked taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me! You are going to apologize.”

“For what?”

His expression was blank. He genuinely did not know he had hurt Silva with his words. This boy was the worst, just like his adult self.

Silva stared daggers at him. “Do you accept?”

The prince stared at her, his mouth twisting into a bemused smile. His shoulders began to shake as he snorted out a laugh, “Really? You think you can challenge a prince of Cross?”

“You are not a prince right now. You are my prisoner.” Her voice was cold in contrast with the warm summer evening. “And if you want to win back your freedom, you have to fight me.”

The prince’s smile faded as he stared up at her. His eyes were hard and as calculating as an eight-year-old could be. “Very well.”

The boy stood, the stick he previously held in his hand once more. Anger was in his eyes as he circled the rock, makeshift weapon at the ready.

“Prepare yourself, Servant Girl. I will show you what it means to be a Wolfskreuz!”

The boy lunged forward onto the rock; their sticks connected with a clack.

The prince’s eyebrows shot up. “You blocked my attack?”

Silva grinned triumphantly, “Not bad, right? I’ve been spying on your practices.”

“You have, have you?” Something more than rage glittered in the prince’s eyes, “We’ll it’s going to take a lot more than spying to beat me, Silva.”

Before I could hear Silva’s response, the world melted around me. The meadow and the children were gone, but before I could register my new surroundings, the meadow returned. As did Silva and the Prince.

I blinked in bewilderment. Everything seemed to be the same, except for the children, who were not as small as I remembered. Nor were they wearing the same outfits. Silva had ditched her bonnet and let her straw-colored hair flow free.

“Take that! And that!” cried the prince, who no longer held a plain stick but a wooden practice sword. Silva also had a practice sword, and she concentrated on parrying the prince's blows while not tripping on the hems of her skirt.

It didn’t take long for the prince to disarm Silva. A particularly powerful slash sent her sword flying. The girl knelt in defeat.

“Alright, you win. Again.”

The prince gave a pompous laugh, “As to be expected. What does this make?”

Silva grumbled something incomprehensible.

The prince took it in his stride as he raised a hand to cup his ear, “What was that? Did I hear ten to nothing? Have you been slacking on your spying, Silva? Or have you finally gotten sick of Master Marzell catching you?”

She gave him an indignant glare, “Well, excuse me if I’ve been busy. The castle doesn’t clean itself, y’know. Your bed doesn’t make itself, and your breakfast doesn’t cook itself. If I were your retainer, I’d have more time to practice for real! And maybe Marzell would let me train with you instead of throwing me out on my butt. Seriously, I’m running out of hiding spots.”

The prince tossed his head, “For the last time, I don’t need a retainer.”

“I know,” said Silva, standing up and brushing dirt off her dress, “But you’re the only one who’ll give me the time of day. Your brothers don’t listen to me.”

“You and the rest of the world,” said the prince.

I was confused, to say the least. Where was the hostility? The enmity? Time had passed in the blink of an eye, and I was more lost than ever! Silva and the prince were at least ten; much had changed in two years.

I was tempted to speak up, but neither noticed me. Did I die? Was I a ghost now, forever cursed to watch the prince make friends with my Silva?

Silva bent down and picked up her sword, “Well, at least you listen to me. Even if it’s to tell me no.”

“Which is a shame,” said the prince, sitting down upon the same rock he’d stood on previously. “Because you still don’t listen to me.”

Silva sat beside him, “Would it be better if I did? I could always follow behind you in silence like the other maids.”

The prince made a face, “Please don’t. If you started acting like the other maids, life would get boring. You’re the only one my age in the whole castle. Even if you don’t listen to me, it’s nice to have someone who––”

The prince seemed to catch himself as his face went red. Silva gave him one of her foxish smiles. “Someone who… what? Tell me what you think of me, Anno. I’d love to know.”

The way she emphasized the word love made my skin crawl. The prince also seemed bothered by this.

“I am your prince. You are my maid. You make a good sparring partner, that’s all.”

Silva’s smile faded, then returned as she stood and sat on the rock. “Even though I haven’t won once? Then I’ll make sure to win. And when I do, you’ll make me your retainer.”

“I make no promises,” said the prince sitting beside her.

“You’ll change your mind once you’ve seen my ultra-secret move!”

The boy raised an eyebrow, “Really? How many spins did you add this time?”

“Five!” said Silva, “You’ll never see it coming.”

To my surprise, the prince laughed at that. Not the mocking laugh he had directed at me before, but a real amused chuckle.

“I’m sure I won’t.” After a moment of silence, he stood and so did she.

The two faced each other, swords at the ready. They struck simultaneously, but before I could hear the impact, the world melted away and returned.

I was no longer in the meadow. Instead, I found myself in a spacious chamber with wooden floors. I could not tell the size of the room as the walls were consumed in deep shadows, with the only light source being a few candles on the floor.

I could at least tell that I was with Silva and the Prince. Once again, the two looked older—maybe around thirteen or fourteen—but only one of them was standing. The prince lay flat on his back, with Silva standing over him with her wooden sword pointing at him. She was breathing heavily, but her expression could not be more pleased.

“I…did it…I won!” She pumped her arms several times in excitement.

“A lucky blow,” said the prince, wiping the corner of his mouth and sitting up,” that makes it thirty-seven to one.”

Silva lowered her sword. “But that’s not zero! I’m catching up!” The girl looked like she was about to burst with manic glee, while the prince seemed more than a little salty.

“Let’s fight again when it’s not the dead of night, and I haven’t been studying all day.”

“Can’t,” said Silva, “Then I’d have to wait for you to stop being a sore loser. And that’s not going to happen anytime soon.” Silva paused as she proffered a hand to the prince, who, despite his grumblings, took it graciously.

Then she said, “Plus, your family has me running ragged. I thought maid work would get easier the bigger I got. I think they’re giving me more work.”

The prince ran a hand through his hair, “I’d suspect they were conspiring against us, but they don’t give a troll’s wart about what we were doing.”

Silva was silent and turned her attention to her practice sword, examining it in the same way she had examined her stick years ago, I guess.

The way that the world shifted and bent around these two made me think this was more than a coincidence. I was here for a reason, and I suspected it had to do with one of them. While I valued Silva, a part of me felt like I was here for the prince. However, I still could not figure out the reason.

The prince broke the silence, saying, “Well, at least your mother’s nice to me. But even her patience has its limits. Can’t stay up too late, or she’ll get suspicious.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Of what?” said Silva with a tilt of her head, “We’re not doing anything wrong.”

“True,” He shrugged, “Still, rumors may abound. And the last thing my father needs is gossip of another of his sons sneaking off with a maid or two.”

“You mean your brothers are also secretly teaching their servants sword fighting?” Silva looked completely confused. “That doesn’t sound like them.

Silva was as dense as ever regarding less than reputable conversation. Or perhaps she had little tolerance for it whenever I talked like that. I often found myself at the end of an angry lecture or even a slap I did not deserve. Though, she had become laxer as time wore on. Now, all I got were glares.

The prince might have been thinking something similar as he quickly said, “Yes, that’s exactly it. But to be fair, a few bad rumors may get my father to remember I exist.” He scratched his chin. “You know what, let’s go another round. I’ll be sure to beat you this time.”

Silva pumped a fist in the air, “Yes! And if I win ten times in a row, you’ll make me your retainer!”

The prince stopped himself from rolling his eyes, “When did I say that?”

Her face soured, “Aw, come on, Anno! That’s a totally fair deal.” Then her smile returned, only this time, it was slightly mischievous. “Unless, of course, the great Anno Wolfskreuz thinks that’s too easy of a condition.”

“As if!” said the prince, sticking his nose in the air, “If you even beat me twice in a row, not only would I make you my retainer, I’d do your chores for a week.”

“You mean it?” Not much changed in Silva’s expression, but for a moment, her face reminded me of a cat snagging a particularly large fish.

“Oh yes,” boasted the prince, “No commoner could ever hope to win against a prince of Cross when he gets serious.” He gave a haughty chuckle.

“Really?” Silva pointed her sword at Anno’s face. “Then no take backs, you hear?”

The prince looked at the point of Silva’s practice sword. His mouth fell open as he realized how easily he had been duped. But then he smiled. “What a clever maid you are.” He drew his sword and slapped his blade against her so they clattered together, “You wish to become my retainer that badly?”

“Nah.” Silva met his playful smile, “I just wanna see you struggle to do manual labor. It’d be hilarious to see you try to scrub the floor. Being your retainer’s just a bonus.”

“You should consider protecting me to be the highest honor.”

“Oh, I do, but I’m not that impatient.”

“Good, because it’s not going to happen anytime soon. Nor will it ever. My father will see to that.”

There was a hunger in both of their eyes. The two stepped back, melting into the darkness as the candlelight vanished. Then, the light flooded my vision as the scene changed again. I threw my hands to cover my face as the sunlight nearly blinded me.

I could hear the prince’s voice coming from somewhere nearby. “I, Anno Wolfskreuz, humbly request an audience with his majesty King Luther to put forth a candidate for the position of retainer for the third prince.”

At those words, I pushed past the pain in my eyes to see the prince kneeling on a marble floor. Silva was beside him, no longer wearing her maid dress but a blue and silver uniform with a red wolf’s head emblazoned on her back.

It was hard to see anything else. This room was too brightly lit to even gauge its size. But there must have been at least one other person there as a deep and commanding voice echoed from somewhere. It was both far and near at the same time.

“You waste my time with this audience, boy. Why should I even consider such frivolities when you continue to neglect your studies.”

The prince looked up, “Father, I’ve been attending all my studies for––”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

From the light, I could see a silhouette appear. The head and shoulders of a man who appeared to be sitting on a throne. It was difficult to tell anything about his appearance as he was backlit by a wall of stained-glass depicting the goddess Iliana embracing a wolf, but what little I could see of him was large and intimidating.

“You bring shame to the Wolfskreuz name by coming here and making such a ludicrous request. As if a commoner––let alone a servant’s daughter––could ever be worthy to become a retainer to nobility.”

“But, father,” said the prince quickly, “There is no one more worthy to serve me. Silva Schafer has been a constant and loyal––”

“Enough.” The silhouette leaned forward, “There is no reason for you to need a retainer, especially not one that is a child. What gain would any assassin have from killing you? Your brothers are more than enough to succeed me.” The man sighed, “Why she insisted on having you will forever be beyond me. Now leave.”

The prince was still, then he bowed his head. “Yes, father. Forgive me for wasting your time.”

Before I knew it, we were back in the training room, though it was light enough to see the practice weapons and dummies lined against the wall, one of which was being viciously attacked by the prince. Silva sat on the floor, back in her maid uniform, looking forlornly at the polished wood.

“That old, geriatric, idiotic––!” He gave the dummy a few more whacks before sighing and turning back to Silva with a smile. “See, I told you it wouldn’t work.” His tone was as casual as if he was conversing over tea.

“Yeah, thanks for trying.”

The two were silent. Then Silva said, “He really is an old fart, just like you said. Guess I can toss the retainer dream out the window.”

“What are you talking about?” said the prince, “You’re already my retainer.”

Silva looked up, startled, “But I thought––”

He flapped his hand dismissively, “Oh, that was just a formality. If my father took any of my requests seriously, he’d have exiled you on the spot. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve more than earned becoming my retainer. My father will think we’re playing pretend.”

Silva’s eyes sparkled, “Can I still wear the uniform?!” She pumped her fists eagerly.

“Unfortunately, not,” said the prince, then added hastily at the sight of Silva’s disappointment, “But just think about it, is it not more fun to go about in disguise? You may look like an ordinary maid, but really, you are a vicious swordswoman willing to do anything to protect her prince!”

Silva considered for a moment, “Yeah, that does sound better. More like an assassin! And I can hide my sword in my dress! And when I sense any danger, shwink!” She mimed drawing a blade from her apron and stabbing an invisible opponent. “They’d call me Silva the Fox for how tricky I am!”

The prince laughed at that, “What is it with you and foxes? I keep telling you they’re evil. In any case, they’d never see it coming. Now, let’s get back to training.”

“Oh no, you don’t!” said Silva shrewdly, “I have loooots of chores to do, and I seem to remember someone promising to do them. How long was it again?”

The prince stiffened, “I recall…a week?”

Silva walked around him, pointing at her chin in mock contemplation, “That’s right…oh wait, but then someone was a sore loser and upped the ante. And then again, and again, and again! Now, how long did you promise to do my chores for?”

He bowed his head, “Thr-three months.”

“That’s right! Three months.” She stopped behind him and playfully poked the back of the prince's neck to push him forward, “Or would you rather go back to studying?”

The boy’s eyes popped, “Please, no! I’d rather do chores than another recitation!”

“Then get to cleaning,” she retorted, “The kitchen’s gotten nice and dirty since a cook spilled a whole pot of soup all over.”

His lips tightened at the thought.

“How about another battle!” said the prince. “All or nothing!”

“But we’re already fifteen to thirty-seven. I’m really catching up now. Could a prince like you take that kind of humiliation?”

“It would be nowhere near the humiliation I endured today.”

Silva stopped. The prince could not see the expression on her face as she stared into the back of his head, but I could. I could feel my rage boiling over. Even after all our time together, she still had never, ever looked at me like that.

She replaced the expression with a smile as she shrugged, “True. I accept your request. But if I win again, you’ll be doing my chores for a whole year.”

“Deal,” said the prince, turning to face her. But then to the prince’s, and especially to my surprise, Silva threw her arms around the young prince and rested her chin on his shoulder. The prince’s eyes popped as his cheeks reddened.

“Silva? W-what are you––?”

“Thank you for being willing to humiliate yourself for me. You’re a good friend.”

The prince freed himself from her embrace, “I-I am your prince! You are my maid––I mean, my retainer. If I didn’t stick my neck out for you, then who would?”

I had seen enough. My hands shook as they curled into fists. Wherever I was, I could no longer abide these horrible visions! Silva was mine! Despite their saccharine childhood relationship, she had chosen me over him! And the prince had no idea why!

I had been content with it being a mystery to him, but I could no longer contain myself after witnessing this. “Hey, you, Prince Whatever!”

The two looked over in shock, and the world once again vanished. Silva vanished as well, but the prince did not. And he was no longer a child but the man I remembered.

“You!” he cried, “Where is Silva? What did you do with her!” He pulled the sword that had appeared at his side, only to reveal that the blade was broken nearly to the hilt. He gave an anguished cry, “Even in a dream!”

A dream?! It all came back to me.

Yes, I was dreaming. Or rather, Dream Walking. Ingrid had told me I had gained this ability as the new Demon King. However, I cut her off when she was about to tell me how to use it. I didn’t need her help to figure it out; I had mastered everything I tried.

“Suit yourself.” she had said before she and her two lackeys vanished into darkness. “But don’t come crying to me when you find yourself lost in the Dreamworld.”

I guess I had proven myself wrong as I floundered in the prince’s dreams. I hadn’t even intended to invade his dreams. I had been aiming for Lina’s.

Well, now that I knew where I was, I could at least wreak some havoc in the prince’s mind. “Hey, moron.” I called, “Silva’s with me. She’s––”

“That’s enough!” said a booming baritone. I felt a hand grab the back of my tunic and gave a hard yank. The prince vanished. All that was left was darkness.

I whirled to see who had stopped my fun and saw a massive pale figure with a wild mane of silver hair and cracks running down its face. It was a Deborn, though I had never seen one with such rage on his face.

“So, there you are, Hero!” it said, “I figured you’d show up one day.”

“Who are you!” I growled, trying my best to look intimidating. It was difficult, though, when the Deborn was almost twice my size.

“Here to stop you from messing with my friends.” The Deborn leaned forward, “You don’t belong here. This is my territory.”

His intimidation methods were much more effective than mine, but I would not allow it to work. “I was told that the dreamworld belonged to the Demon King.”

“And guess who's still kicking?” he said with a grin.

What did that mean? I was the new Demon King.

“Oh, did you forget, Hero? Did you forget that ‘I am morning and night!’ Or that my power is––yada, yada, yada. Honestly, it’s hard to remember all that fluffy crap.”

My blood ran cold as I leaped back. “I-it can’t be! I killed you!”

The former Demon King wheezed out a laugh, “Y’know, I thought you did, too. But I guess you’re not as strong as you thought you were because now, I look like this. Bummer, right?” He began to walk, his pale eyes fixed on me. “For you, at least. Me? I’m running with a much better crowd now. And if you think I’ll let you invade their dreams again, you’ve got another thing coming, buddy.”

He raised his fists, to which I raised mine. I would not let him push me around. This was my turf now!

“So, you’re with that prince, too?”

“You’d better believe it! He and I are just itching to get at you for what you’ve been doing to this world.”

I could feel an eye twitch, “And why shouldn’t I do whatever I want? It’s my world now. Mine to destroy!”

“It’s Anno’s world! Anno’s and Lina’s! The sooner you’re out of it, the better!”

His fist flew toward me much faster than I was used to, but I raised my guard just in time to take his punch. It hurt! I had not felt pain like this since before I maxed out my defense. Pulled up the mental image of his stat chart, or at least I tried to. Despite my best efforts I could not summon any clear number for the Former Demon King.

"Sorry, Hero," he said with a grin. "This is not a physical world, so stats don't matter. You are powerless here."

"Yeah right!" retorted. I summoned my stat chart. But the same thing happened. I knew my stats as all were nearly maxed out, yet none of them appeared before me.

The other man began to push harder. "See?"

I hated to admit it, but the former Demon King was right. He had much more experience here than I did. I felt the temptation to run and hide from this fight. However, I could not let him assume weakness. I had grown past my cowardice. I was the Hero of this world, its new Demon King! If I could break the system of the waking world, there was no reason I could not do the same with the Dreamworld.

I pushed back at the punch with all my strength and deflected the power away. If this was a dream, logic would dictate that I could create anything. At least, that’s how it was in movies.

I imagined my Great Buster Blade at my waist and reached for where it would be. To my delight, I found its metallic handle at my side. I began to draw it out of its sheath, intending to use the same ultimate move that killed him the first time. And this time, I’d make sure he stayed dead.

But just then, another voice sounded, which made the two of us freeze on the spot. “Hello there!”

We both looked at the man approaching. He was taller than me, though shorter than the Former Demon King by at least a head. But the man’s confident demeanor made it feel like he towered over both of us. He raised a hand in greeting.

"I hate to break up such a spat, but could one of you fine gents point me to Grenna? I’ve business at the Demon King Tower, and I think I maaaay be a little lost.”

A little lost?! We were in the Dreamworld! A place which only the Demon King may enter. And yet, I knew this intruder to be just a man as I recognized the long red hair and red eyes, the small hooked nose that resembled a beak, and the large great sword that adorned his broad shoulders.

He was the last man I had ever expected to run into again, and yet there he was as regal as ever: Bastian Falkner, son of Benedict and the High Prince of Ald Alira. A medallion adorned with the Royal Falcon glittered on his chest, even in this darkness.

Of all people in the world, he was the last one I wanted to see as we had parted on less-than-good terms. None of that animosity showed on his face as he smiled at us.

“Oh, there you are! I’ve finally found you again, Hero.”

“What are you doing here?”

His bright tone had not changed in the slightest. “I am here on behalf of my father, High King Benedict, as an ambassador of Ald Alira.”

I shook my head, “No, I mean, what are you doing here in my Dreamworld?”

Though Bastian’s obnoxious smile did not falter, his eyebrows knitted in confusion, “Dreamworld?” He looked around at his murky surroundings, his eyes dim with confusion. It took him several seconds before his eyes lit up with realization, which caused his smile to fade slightly. “Wait, I’m dreaming?! Guess I must have fallen asleep while walking again.” He tapped his forehead with the palm of his hand, “Silly me.”

He what?! Nothing had changed about the man I had met several months ago. He boasted the same bravado while being a complete dunce. His sense of direction was worse than Lina’s!

Bastian’s smile was back in full force as he looked between me and the former Demon King. “It’s no wonder I feel safe in front of the Hero and his Deborn.”

The former Demon King blinked, “But I’m not a Deborn. At least, I think I’m not.”

Bastian gave a start, “Egad! It speaks!” He looked at me, “Even as a dream, you are most impressive, Hero!”

I shrugged at that, which allowed the former Demon King to speak.

“The only thing he did was kill me. I’m my own man now. Name’s Dietrich.” He held a hand out for Bastian to shake, which, to my surprise, he did. And quite enthusiastically at that.

“Wow, you’ve even given him a name! If this weren’t a dream, I’d have killed this abomination on the spot. Could you imagine an intelligent Deborn running about like this, suffering as it slowly decayed?”

He said this with the same ease as his earlier comment about sleepwalking. Yep, same old Bastian.

The former Demon King, who, I guess, was calling himself Dietrich now, smirked, which caused the cracks in his face to pucker. “I told you, guy, I’m not a Deborn.”

But Bastian ignored him as his red eyes fell onto me, regarding me with icy calculation despite the man’s smile. “I suppose that even if this is a dream, I can deliver my message. As I said, I am here on behalf of my father and as an ambassador of Ald Alira.”

“You should have been to see me months ago,” I said.

Bastian’s face brightened, “That’s the rub, I’m afraid. I did leave months ago. In fact, I followed you as soon as you spirited our Lina away. But I ended up losing my way rather quickly into my journey. My father insisted I take an escort or two, though I was already out the door before he could. Oh well. That’s my fault.” He laughed at that, then stopped, “But here we are. I found you, and so to business.”

His smile remained in place, but his eyes seemed to ice over as he stared at me contemptuously. “Give us back our Lina.”

I shrugged. “You know where she is. Come and get her.” He did not need to know that she was currently gallivanting off with some prince. I could tell him she was in the next town, and he’d never reach her. But why not let him squirm, thinking that she was still in my possession?

I was about to say something else when the Former Demon King said, “She’s actually with us, Bastian. Safe and sound in Justice under the protection of Cross’s prince.”

My voice caught in my throat. Why did I forget that he was Lina’s companion?!

Bastian blinked, “In Justice, you say? That’s not far from the Alten Kingdom, where I am currently residing. If what you say is true, Deborn, then find me. Have this prince of yours deliver Lina to me.”

Things were turning from bad to worse. I was slowly losing control of the situation. Lina would be delivered straight back to Ald Alira if I did not do something. I’d be forced to get her back myself. And what kind of Demon King did things himself?

“Listen, you’d better not––”

The world vanished one last time, and I felt the familiar softness of my bed. I opened my eyes. Someone stood over me, shaking me violently.

I blinked several times, trying to rid the sleep from my vision. I was back in the waking world. Or I thought I was.

The person above me became clear. It was Silva. I sighed in relief. My Silva.

I smiled at her, lifted my hand, and pressed it to her cheek. “Where have you been?”

She glanced at my fingers but otherwise did nothing but say, “You were thrashing about in bed. I was worried you were having another nightmare.”

I could see the concern in her eyes. “I’m fine now that you're here. Listen, I know it’s earlier than you wanted, but I need you right now.”

“Need me?” Her eyes grew suspicious. I could feel her hands on my shoulder tense up, ready to strike.

“It’s nothing like that.” As disappointing as it was, I was willing to honor my marriage promise. I kept my hand on her face as I sat up. “I know where Lina is. She’s with him in Justice.”

Silva’s eyes widened, “With Anno? But how––?”

“I don’t know how. But I know she is with him. I need you to retrieve her.”

“I can’t see him. Not yet,” She broke eye contact and tried to pull away from my touch, but I stopped her by putting my other hand on her other cheek so that I cupped her face. Her eyes returned to mine. I could still see stubbornness in them.

“Please, Silva. Gertrude has failed. And Heide… If she’s not back by now… You’re the only one I can rely on.”

She stared at me for several seconds, “Give me time to prepare.”

I smiled, “Good girl, but please, hurry. They could leave at any moment.” I ran my thumb against her cheek. She jerked her face from my grasp and gave me a withering stare. I cherished that stare as much as her smile. At least they were mine.

“I’m only doing this because you asked.” Her blonde ponytail whipped behind her as she walked out of my bedroom, nose in the air.

I watched her go with a sigh. She was a tough nut to crack, much more difficult than the others. And while she had a rough exterior, Silva was as loyal to me as any of them, maybe even more so.

A smile crept across my face. I may not have been able to crush the prince’s spirit in his dreams, but this was better.

I was tempted to follow after Silva to see the prince’s soul break but decided against it as I lay back in bed. Silva could handle it on her own. And besides, there was a whole world of dreams to bend to my will.