A Dream’s Embrace and a Master’s Plea

Master!

A sense of weightlessness consumed Saranya’s entire body, leaving her limbs numb. She abruptly opened her eyes, immediately enveloped by a roaring crescendo of cheers.

“Kerfen!”

“Kerfen!”

“Kerfen!”

The crowd chanted their family’s surname.

“Eh?”

She found herself kneeling in a vast courtyard, beneath a canopy of lingering dark clouds.

Snowflakes danced and swirled past her, dusting the long marble bricks beneath her feet with a layer of shimmering silver.

“Saranya…”

From the edge of the crowd, a voice she knew intimately whispered to her.

“Brother?”

Mejga, clad in gleaming half-plate armor, his shoulder-length curly hair meticulously groomed, presented the image of a dashing knight as he offered her a gentle smile.

“What are you dallying for? The Emperor is waiting! Go and receive it!”

“Oh… right!”

Of course, today was the day Emperor Olavi VI would bestow her with an honor.

She was a child of the Kerfen family, and the Kerfen family… they were the most beloved clan in the Northern Marches.

For generations, they had led the northern people, helping them forge roots amidst the blizzards and biting winds of harsh winters, driving back any who dared to invade their homeland in ignominious retreat.

With them at the helm, the various tribes of the Northern Marches would forever live in peace and prosperity.

Not long ago, when the demonic scourge approached the Olavi Empire, their lands were the first to bear the brunt.

Though all parties had expressed concern, some had even debated abandoning the Northern Marches entirely, proposing to concentrate their elite forces to preserve the fertile heartland of the Empire.

In that critical hour, the northern people adopted a decisive war strategy.

They rallied their valiant northern warriors, first launching a proactive strike that shattered the barbarian legions, who, driven south by dark creatures, had been forced to invade.

Immediately afterward, they constructed defenses on the spot, engaging in months of tenacious resistance until, at last, the Emperor’s reinforcements arrived.

Under the leadership of the Empire’s valiant legion commander and their own Kerfen family, the imperial iron cavalry annihilated the wicked demonic creatures.

The northern warriors had achieved ultimate victory, and the Emperor had decreed weeks of national festivities, announcing his personal journey to the Northern Marches to partake in their victory celebration.

The bestowal of honors… yes, today was a momentous occasion.

A surge of pride swelled within Saranya, and she lifted her head, a triumphant smile blossoming on her face.

“Mm… this is wonderful…”

Before her, the Emperor held aloft a golden, intricately carved dagger.

Its hilt bore engravings of a laurel wreath and a wolf’s head, symbols of the Olavi imperial family and her own Kerfen clan, respectively.

A line of sky-blue cat’s eye opals adorned the blade, their brilliance reflecting the slight excitement in her eyes under the bright sunlight.

“Your Imperial Majesty.”

Saranya accepted the dagger with both hands, and the crowd’s cheers reached a crescendo, even as a faint smile touched the Emperor’s lips.

Without pausing, she clutched the heavy dagger and continued forward, following the path cleared by the adulating crowd.

Snowflakes drifted gently onto her flushed cheeks, cool and slightly ticklish.

The sensation was profoundly comforting, almost as if… soft fingertips were caressing her face.

A figure emerged ahead: a burly, middle-aged man with a face scarred by blades and a chin covered in stubble—a typical Northern Marches appearance.

“!”

Yet, as Saranya’s gaze settled upon him, her body jolted, her pupils abruptly constricting.

She broke into a frantic sprint towards the man.

As the distance rapidly closed, the image in her eyes grew clearer.

The man seemed to be right before her, yet Saranya felt as though she had run an immense distance.

She gasped, wiping away the sweat from her brow, her nose stinging as tears streamed from her bright blue eyes.

“Slow down, silly child. Why are you crying? I’m not going to grow wings and fly away.”

“Father… Father…”

Saranya’s eyes were bloodshot. Remembering something, she wiped away her tears and raised the dagger high.

“Father, I did it…”

Her father smiled, his gaze warm as it swept over the dagger in Saranya’s hands.

“Of course. You are my child, Saranya.”

“What do you mean… it wasn’t so easy!”

Saranya sobbed, her voice suddenly rising, imbued with a deep undercurrent of resentment.

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry! I mean… without you and Brother, if it were just me… it would be truly difficult…”

“What foolish talk… we are all here.”

Mejga, having followed her all this way, appeared behind Saranya, soothing his little sister with the gentle tone of an elder brother.

“Yes, yes, thankfully, it is like this…”

How wonderful.

Saranya sniffled, then her lips curved into a bright, open smile.

This was as beautiful as a dream…

“So, what’s next, Mejga?”

“The Emperor is approaching, Father. Give Little Snowflake a cup of celebratory wine.”

When Saranya next became aware, her father had already taken a milky-white horn cup.

After making a gesture of pouring, he slowly extended it towards her.

“Come, after this, I’ll need you to continue your hard work.”

“Eh? But…”

The cup was empty.

The outlines of the crowd and the courtyard abruptly began to blur.

The sky overhead twisted, subtly threatening to tear apart.

A few steps away, the Emperor’s figure flickered, then gradually vanished.

‘Am I… dreaming?’

“Drink, Little Snowflake.”

Mejga placed a hand on her shoulder, yet she felt no weight at all.

“No… wait a little longer…”

“Saranya, deliberately delaying is a bad habit, you know.”

“No… please… just a little longer… Ugh… ugh ugh… I don’t want to be alone again—”

Her eyes were bloodshot, and before her plea could fully form, the rim of the cup pressed against her lips.

An external force gently parted her mouth, delivering a warm liquid into her.

It was not wine.

It was a sweet, clear fluid, mingling with her salty tears, and carrying a faint scent of irises.

“Breathe.”

Kaelan’s command vibrated between her lips, and Saranya gasped in a breath of air, redolent with the girl’s scent.

Her eyelashes fluttered open.

“I thought you would have a beautiful dream… you’ve made me a little disheartened… *Haaah… Mwah—*”

Kaelan’s nose brushed against Saranya’s cheek before she delivered another deep kiss.

‘Where were they? Had the crisis in the sanctuary been resolved? How was everyone?…’

The myriad questions Saranya had intended to ask upon waking now seemed utterly insignificant.

The two girls’ breaths mingled.

Kaelan gently nipped Saranya’s lower lip, cradling her head with both hands, her fingers tangling in the loose strands of Saranya’s hair.

Saranya’s face was crimson.

She closed her eyes as if in escape, a few faint whimpers escaping from deep within her throat.

“Little Ya… did you have a nightmare? Did the dreamcatcher I wove… not work?”

“No… I had a good dream… a very good dream… Thank you, Master…”

“Is that so… then it seems… my efforts weren’t in vain… Mm… as you can see… I’ve kept my promise… *Mwah…*”

“Mmh~”

This time, Kaelan leaned even closer, pressing her forehead against Saranya’s.

Saranya’s heart lurched, and she hastily opened her eyes, her slender eyelashes trembling slightly in the moist air.

‘Master… so close… I’m being kissed by Master…’

Feeling the pressure on her lips, Saranya confirmed the reality again and again in her mind, her head feeling as though it might explode.

It was unclear how many times it had happened, but as her Master’s soft touch once again invaded her mouth, Saranya’s body shivered unnaturally.

Her icy blue pupils shifted slightly upwards, revealing a sliver of white beneath Kaelan’s intense gaze.

As if satisfied, Kaelan admired her expression for a moment.

Her silver teeth gently bit through a thread, and she arched her swan-like neck, swallowing the contents of her mouth with greedy enjoyment.

“Eh…?”

Saranya was gently pushed back, watching as her Master distanced herself, leaning back against the headboard.

Kaelan’s long, flowing black hair, sleek and lustrous, shimmered with a subtle halo in the flickering candlelight, enticingly draped over Saranya’s shoulder.

“Master, are you… finished?”

Saranya propped herself up with her arms, a hint of disappointment crossing her face as she exhaled a hot breath.

“Do you remember, last time in the tavern cellar, I couldn’t control my emotions and hurt you terribly?”

“Mm… why bring that up?”

“You said then that, as punishment, I would need to obey you unconditionally, just once…”

As Kaelan continued, her voice began to tremble with growing excitement.

“Could you… use that now… to command my… mouth?”

“Hm, ah…?!”

“Is that alright…? The decision is yours…”

****

“Answer me quickly… it’s alright, isn’t it…? Hm? It’s morning now… we have a whole day ahead of us…”

‘The decision is mine…’

Saranya hadn’t expected her Master to adopt such a vulnerable posture towards her, leaving her utterly stunned.

****

A Master surrendering herself to a s*ave’s free disposal, a witch pleading with her demonic familiar to make a decision for her—just the thought of her own aberrant behavior filled Kaelan with a joy that nearly made her swoon.

She pressed her lips together, her face flushed, and anxiously observed Saranya’s reaction.

Finally, she received the answer she most craved.

“Kaelan, you’d best not go back on your word, alright?”

“Mm…”

‘Anyway, just this once. Only once. It should be fine, right…?’