Dante keeps having dreams of Aphmau being married to Gene, it’s mortifying and disgusting, and he would never breathe a word of it to anyone in the village, but sometimes when he falls asleep at night he dreams of another world. A world where his childhood home still exists. Where the kitchen looks the exactly the way it did before that fateful day, yellow and hazy with morning glow. In the middle of their dining room, the table their father built for his and their mother’s wedding day stands proud and uncharred, along with the chairs that belonged to their family. He sits on one these chairs now staring at two newlyweds. He doesn’t know exactly how he knows that their newlyweds, his mind skips over this fact like a stone on a still lake. Perhaps he guessed it from his good-sister’s glittering eyes, staring lovingly at her new husband. Her face is young and unburdened, only made lovelier by her adoration. He knows she is gentle and openhanded, and deserves a true and noble knight. A man who shares her compassionate heart. Who better to love then, but his brother? A man who has never turned a hand against anyone. Who has always been there for Dante his whole life. Who could be more deserving of each other than the two kindest souls he’s ever met? How lucky is he to have been born with such a noble brother? And to have gained such a loving sister? These questions echo in his mind until he is ferried back in to the waking world, where the house in his dreams has been long gone, and the brother, who in his dream looked so tenderly at his new bride, had long since died. He wakes slowly, and vows not to speak a word of this to anyone