I woke up without even knowing how long I’d slept, still half-dreaming as I saw Sikar Blake staring down at me. Then, suddenly realizing he was holding my hand, I jolted awake as if startled by an electric shock.
“What—what is this?”
“Awake now?”
Seeming satisfied that I was fully conscious, Sikar Blake finally released my hand with a languid expression.
“Our Happy used to fall asleep whenever he heard this music. You really behave no differently from Happy.”
It’d be stranger not to feel sleepy listening to this music on such a sunny afternoon.
“But you… why do you have dreams like that?”
“What dreams? Wait—can you even see dreams?”
“Of course. Everything that surfaces in your mind—I see it all. Whether it’s memory, fantasy, or imagination. But since those things aren’t experiences you’ve actually lived, they don’t linger in your memory; you can only see them in that very moment. In short, I can only peek inside while you’re actively dreaming or imagining something.”
So that’s why he was holding my hand—to look into my dream…
Come to think of it, this feels kinda perverted?
“Why are you peeking into someone’s dreams while they’re asleep?!”
Like a creep!
“Because dreams reveal a person’s subconscious—and more importantly, let me check whether Nightmare Spirits have found an opening to intrude.”
“Nightmare Spirits…?”
“There are many kinds of spirits here, including Nightmare Spirits. True to their name, they slip into the dreams of those having nightmares and gnaw away at their minds.”
Hearing that, I remembered. Gillian once unleashed a Nightmare Spirit using a spiritist to torment Kian Blake.
“I remember too. It spreads like a cold—contaminating you without you even knowing where it came from.”
“There’s nothing better than tormenting someone’s subconscious to uncover their true identity. That’s why Kian, who often had nightmares, suffered so much from Nightmare Spirits. As the protagonist, he didn’t reveal his identity to Gillian, but ordinary people might find their daily lives severely disrupted.”
Sikar Blake was speaking quite seriously about events from the novel. It felt strangely fascinating that the villain was discussing the protagonist’s adventures.
What was so special about my dream that he’d say such things? Could I have dreamed that again?
“Did you perhaps see me hiding in a wardrobe? Or maybe dreaming anxiously because the door wasn’t locked?”
“I saw you hiding in a wardrobe. And not just any wardrobe—one without any locks. Is it because of agoraphobia? You never hid in wardrobes when you were little, so why do you hide in them in your dreams?”
“I often have that dream, but I don’t know why. In some unknown room, I always search for a wardrobe and climb inside. I don’t know the reason myself.”
“How do you feel after waking from such dreams? Do you feel like you’ve had a nightmare?”
“Sometimes yes, sometimes no.”
Sikar Blake appeared thoughtful for a moment, then brushed his fingers across his lips.
“It’s like looking at a puzzle with missing pieces. Anyway, I understand now. Since you’re fully awake, let’s begin again.”
‘Listen to the music again?’
Before I could even ask what would happen if I fell asleep again, Sikar Blake snapped his fingers—and the drowsy melody immediately echoed in my ears once more.
Fortunately, since I’d just napped, I didn’t feel like falling asleep again. But Sikar, apparently expecting me to doze off again, extended his hand toward me.
“Usually, gentlemen invite ladies to dance first. When I extend my hand like this, you simply take it.”
‘I’ve held that hand nonstop—grabbing it shouldn’t be hard.’
I took his hand as if to say, “This is nothing,” but it seemed unsatisfactory to Sikar.
“Don’t grab it like you’re sealing some grand alliance. Imagine your hand is a butterfly—place it gently, as if the butterfly is alighting softly upon a petal.”
I immediately followed Sikar’s instruction, but of course, I didn’t get it right the first time. Only after several more attempts did Sikar pat my head with an indifferent expression, as if to say, “Good job.”
By now, I didn’t need him to say it—I knew this was something Happy had also loved.
“So Happy liked having his head patted, huh?”
“Jealousy toward a puppy is like jealousy toward a child.”
Huh?
“I’m not jealous—I just asked out of curiosity.”
Sikar ignored my excuse and said only what he wanted to say.
“Proper praise enhances learning ability. When I taught Happy table manners using this method, he learned quickly.”
…Why do I feel like I’m slowly turning into Sikar’s pet?
“The next move is this: After placing your hand in mine, I’ll pull you toward me by the waist. And you must come to me as if embracing me—but remember, it’s not actually embracing. Think of it as approaching me in an embracing manner. Don’t forget—you must leave enough space between us for a small dog to pass through.”
But since this was my first time dancing like this, I found it difficult to gauge the distance accurately.
So, naturally, I ended up crashing straight into Sikar’s arms.
And immediately, goosebumps rose—because he hugged me tightly.
Was he trying to crush me for dancing poorly? Sikar, unaware that cold sweat was trickling down my spine, thought I’d jumped into his arms out of affection.
“So you’re making excuses to hug me like this.”
No one wants to willingly throw themselves into the arms of a predator who might devour them at any moment.
“I hugged you by accident—why are you hugging me so tightly?”
“Let’s just say I’m touched by your noble effort to embrace me somehow.”
“That’s not it at all. Let go.”
Sikar released me with an utterly disinterested, blank expression. Then he extended his hand again—meaning we’d continue practicing.
“Today, we’ll practice only until you learn to properly gauge the distance.”
Since I was extremely curious about Kian’s current situation, my first thought was to finish this practice quickly.
“Got it.”
I practiced keeping distance with Sikar, now with slightly more enthusiasm than before. Whenever I hesitated or faltered, Sikar would lecture me about the effectiveness of repetitive learning—so I silently followed his method.
But soon, exhausted by his relentless drills, I collapsed onto the sofa like a ragdoll. He extended his hand to help me up, but I didn’t even have the strength to grasp it.
“Get up. No matter how tired you are, you’re not in a position to sprawl out like that.”
Sikar’s voice was stern and forceful—so intimidating that I had no choice but to leap instantly to my feet.
Fortunately, after repeating the same motion a few more times, we were finally able to end the practice.
The moment I heard practice was over, I couldn’t bear not knowing whether Kian was getting along with Vika Lamberst. Surely Vika wasn’t making Kian cry?
Without even eating, I went upstairs with Sikar to the second floor to check on Kian’s wellbeing.
I’d been so worried about Kian that the furrow between my brows wouldn’t smooth—but soon realized my worry had been unfounded.
The moment I opened the door and saw Vika’s face, I had to puff out my cheeks to keep from laughing.
Vika sat there, scowling, his mouth stuffed full of candy.
Candy was what Kian’s father used to put in Kian’s mouth whenever Kian talked back or said something inappropriate. As expected, our protagonist hadn’t been intimidated even by a Dark Elf.
Judging by the situation, it was obvious that whenever Vika said something rude, Kian had promptly shoved candy into his mouth. I felt relieved—and at the same time, couldn’t help laughing.
Whether he was amused or not, Sikar remarked mockingly to Vika:
“Those puffed cheeks suit you very well, Vika.”
Vika chewed the remaining candy while mumbling, then gave Sikar a thin, sly smile.
“Mumble. Don’t laugh. This might soon be your future too.”
Kian walked over to us with a smile and greeted us calmly.
Perhaps Vika had taught him well—he somehow seemed a bit more mature?
While Sikar stepped out to read Vika’s memories and verify how well he’d taken care of Kian, I sat side by side with Kian on the sofa and recounted the day’s events.
“The candy seems really effective. Once Vika’s mouth was full of candy, he stopped saying those devilish things.”
…Wasn’t it just because his mouth was too full to speak?
To Kian, who knew nothing about Dark Elves, Vika’s words probably sounded like demonic speech.
Just imagining Vika’s flustered expression each time Kian shoved candy into his mouth made me want to laugh until tears came.
I wanted to ask Sikar to put Kian to bed tonight, but then I remembered how my rushed attempt to feed him porridge had failed that day.
‘Right. Slowly. Very slowly. It’s hard for a villain and protagonist to become close so easily.’
The next day, Kian and I stood side by side, looking up at Sikar Blake.
No, more precisely, we were staring at the document Sikar was holding out toward us as if to show off. On the document, Kian’s name was registered between Sikar’s and mine.
Sikar Blake and Yura Blake’s son, Kian Blake.
Looking at the document, I felt a strange emotion.
‘We’ve truly become a family.’
“Everyone confirmed?”
Sikar rolled the document back up and tucked it into his robe.
“Now we’re a real family.”
I explained in more detail for Kian, who might not fully understand.
“Kian. Now, by the kingdom’s law, we’re officially family. You’re now the sole heir of this house.”
“Heir?”
“You’ll be the master of this place from now on.”
Of course, before that, you’ll become king.
Kian neither rejoiced nor looked sad. He simply wore an expression of mixed emotions.
Having never seen his mother’s face, and having lost his father so recently, it was only natural for him to feel this way about a new family formed so soon.
After pondering for a while, Kian looked at Sikar and me and asked:
“So… you’re now my parents?”
At the word “parents,” I could see Sikar flinch slightly.
Becoming parents at such a young age—he probably couldn’t adjust. Or rather, he likely never imagined he’d become a father at this age.
Sikar frowned deeply, as if the idea was extremely difficult to accept.
“Yes.”
I felt the need to lighten the mood between them.
“How about a handshake, to celebrate becoming family?”
Sikar and Kian looked at me with regretful expressions, then reluctantly reached toward each other. But it wasn’t really a handshake—just a brief, awkward clap of palms.
Given their roles as protagonist and villain, it was obvious they’d dislike each other even without reason—so I understood.
‘Just wait. I’ll turn you two into a father-son pair so touching, no one will be able to watch without tears.’
An Indifferent Woman is the One Men Desire the Most
One-line summary: The female lead is actually cold-hearted and extremely rational. She has stage-by-stage relationships and won’t two-time, but there will always be someone who secretly likes her.
This novel has the following triggers, so if you’re sensitive to these, please don’t read:
1. The female lead has had many relationships, but she treated each one seriously and broke up properly.
It’s just that the men unilaterally pestered her incessantly. For the female lead, when she doesn’t like someone anymore, she simply doesn’t like them.
(This applies to her relationships with Male Lead 1, 2, 3, and 4 as well, but she’s loyal in each 1-on-1 relationship!)
2. In this novel, Male Lead 2 and the female lead kiss in a car, and Male Lead 1 sees it and beats up Male Lead 2.
The female lead calls the police and sends both Male Lead 1 and 2 to the police station! Male Lead 1 begs the female lead not to break up with him.
3. Male Lead 1 has a gentle appearance but an obsessive personality.
Male Lead 2 has a delicate and soft appearance, slightly green tea-like (two-faced).
Male Lead 3 is a youthful college student and a smart person who has secretly liked the female lead for a long time.
Male Lead 4 is the female lead’s father’s special assistant, a business elite with deep, hidden thoughts.
4. At the beginning of this novel, the female lead has already broken up with Male Lead 1 (Chapter 4) and gotten back together with Male Lead 2 (ex-boyfriend).
5. Enter with caution if you have triggers!!!
