I Dreamt that You Died

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“…What kind of dream is this?”

One day while working as a secretary in the ducal household, I dreamed of a knight I knew only by name and face getting injured. I dismissed it as a strange dream, but it seemed to be a precognitive dream.

From that day forward, the knight kept appearing in my dreams, always getting hurt. As if that weren’t enough, the events from my dreams began happening in reality. I couldn’t simply ignore it—my conscience wouldn’t allow me to stand by.

“Sir! Be careful of the stone in front of you!”

“Who left the incinerator open? How dangerous…”

 “I’m heading this way. Would you like to walk together? My path is better maintained.”

After extending these courtesies just a few times, and calling him to the garden to prevent potential injuries, he suddenly said, “I apologize, but I have no interest in romance.”

What? What is he talking about? I’m not interested in you—I’m just a person with a functioning conscience and a tiny bit of courage!

No matter how much I argued, the knight wouldn’t listen. I protested, then found myself exasperated, and finally gave up, letting him think whatever he wanted. When I came to my senses, I realized we had grown quite close.

Where had that man who had erected such impenetrable walls of misunderstanding gone?

“…Do you truly not have feelings for me?”

Before me stood a bear-like person asking this with a somewhat dejected expression.
…If he’s a bear, shouldn’t he be scary? Why does he seem so cute? Am I finally going crazy?