I stole a glance toward my dream husband’s side profile. The breeze that sailed into the carriage played with his locks, swaying them gently. His frosty countenance, one he must have developed when he was young or most likely he was born with it, served to establish an unapproachable atmosphere between us.

After he delivered his first and last words to me, he strolled past me as my jaw dropped, gawking at his retreating back. I was appalled not only by what was going on around me but, most importantly, by his arrogance. The man was so pleasing to the eye but must have forgotten to learn about good manners. I had no notion why I even married him. I recognized this was only a dream, but hell, why did I have to have a husband like him?

I was still frozen on my spot when the pretty woman earlier hurriedly dragged me out of the room, saying–Your Majesty, the king has waited for a long time already. We didn’t want him to wait for you longer than he has or else…

Or else what? I wanted to ask but before I could open my mouth, my eyes widened not only because my dream husband with his mouth in a straight line was standing next to a big and beautiful carriage with great elegance, but also because of the number of men in front and at the back of the carriage. There were two dozen of them. All were hard-looking and alert, sitting on top of their horses.

Knights.

They were wearing brown blue jackets, white breeches, and black boots. But what caught my eyes were the six men surrounding the carriage. They were in scarlet jackets, black breeches, and matching boots. They looked more lethal. Dangerous. Deadly. They looked like not ordinary knights. Far better, I assumed. As I gaped at them, their curious gazes almost left a hole in my face. One of them must have noticed my puzzled face, and I tried to smile at him. His face suddenly hardened before he swiveled his head, peering straight ahead.

My head jerked back.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Earlier, I assumed this was a glorious dream, but as time went by and the more people I met, it became progressively a nightmare.

“Are you just going to stand there all day, wife?” My dream husband snapped. His brow rose while staring at me with his hawk eyes. It was the second time he called me wife with such distaste in his tone.

Was he actually that furious that I made him wait for two hours?

Well, if someone did that to me, I would also be mad, especially if they didn’t have a good reason. In my defense, I didn’t know why I was sleeping in the first place. Was it my fault that my dream started at that point?

I gritted my teeth together, squared my shoulders, lifted my chin, and walked to the carriage. Even though I’m a queen here, I didn’t know what would happen to me if I punched my brute dream husband in the face. All the people here looked angry with me, so I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them would point their swords at me and take me to prison or something.

My goodness. When would I wake up?

Stopping on the stair carriage, I glanced down to hoist my heavy skirts up. A gloved palm was waiting in front of me when I looked up. I peered at the awaiting palm, then at its owner. Cold eyes met mine. I offered him a tentative smile, trying to be civil since he’s still my dream husband. I was confident he was not that bad because I wouldn’t marry him if he was. Right?

Also, for most of any good dream I had, I always woke up before the really good part. Maybe when we were inside the carriage, the good part would start. Well, I hoped so. I just wished I could at least kiss him. Don’t judge me. Even though I was happy being single, I was still a woman. It’s been so long since I got to make out with someone. Last was three years ago. I had no intentions of just having a fling with anyone. I wanted something serious in my life. But since this was only a dream and this gorgeous man was my husband, I see nothing wrong in lusting after him.

The smile that I plastered on my lips gradually faded when his face didn’t change, worse his eyes narrowed and a muscle ticked in his jaw. I was about to pull my hand from him when he clasped it tight and steered me inside the carriage. Then he climbed in, took the seat in front of me, tapped the carriage ceiling, and stared out the window.

An hour had passed, or maybe not that long, but seemed like it was since we left the castle. During that period, not a single word had escaped the man’s lips who was quietly sitting in front of me. He was silent, looking lost in his thoughts. I tried to keep my attention outside, to the green trees and lush forest, but my eyes constantly wandered to him.

I perceived this was only a dream and everything could happen here, though it made me think if a man like this who married me less hooked up with me was literally conceivable.

I took a discreet peek at my reflection in the carriage window. The sight of a wide forehead, hazel brown eyes, the small, low bridge of my nose, and a face that to me looked pretty enough greeted me. I knew I was pretty. Not only did my parents tell me s