Magic Lights and a Runaway Ship
Fortunately, the installation of the magic lights went remarkably smoothly. The effects, duration, range, and even the authentication process—activated through a specific sequence like unlocking a door with a password—were all perfect. There was hardly anything to criticize.
Just as expected from a mage.
Because of her status as a war hero and the villainess label in romance fantasy novels, it was easy to forget, but Amelia was a mage. Of course she knew how to draw magic circles.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, glancing up at the darkening sky. I’d been so absorbed in the work that I hadn’t noticed how much time had passed. Still, we’d managed to lay lights from the docks all the way along the walking paths to the hot springs where we were staying.
“Pardon? What for?” Amelia asked, straightening from her crouched position with a puzzled tilt of her head. She genuinely looked confused.
“From lunch until now. I dragged you around all day and even made you eat packed lunches.”
I bowed my head in apology. This was my fault. No matter how much Amelia had wanted to help, I should have stopped her halfway through.
“Please don’t say that. I was the one who asked for the work. Besides, I enjoyed it.”
The slight tremor in her voice and the anxious look in her eyes told me she meant every word. She was probably fine now.
“Thank you for forgiving me.”
I let out a breath and lifted my head. It had been the right call to bow first and lay the groundwork. She wasn’t the type to take advantage once someone lowered their head. If she had been, this would have been exhausting.
“Forgiving you? Please don’t say such things.”
Amelia approached with a sorrowful expression and took my hand—quite naturally, as if we had been lovers for years. Her hands were still rough, the scars and calluses likely permanent, like red brands.
“I asked Yohan for work, and you gave it to me. Thanks to that, I had a fulfilling day.”
“Still… was it too much?”
I asked carefully, injecting a hint of playfulness into my tone to keep the atmosphere from growing heavier. Balance was important. If things got too serious, they could spiral out of control. A little joke here and there helped.
“A little,” Amelia replied with a wry smile, as if she had read my mind. The awkward tension eased slightly.
“In that case, I suppose I should pay you a proper wage for today’s labor. How much would be appropriate?”
“What? A wage?”
Amelia’s eyes widened in surprise. Was it really that shocking?
“Of course. You worked for me.”
“Please don’t. I already owe you so much—how could I shamelessly ask for money on top of that? I would never even think of doing something so disgraceful.”
“If you’re referring to the matter with your family… it isn’t a debt. It’s a token of my respect.”
“I know, but still…”
Amelia narrowed her eyes at me. The slight glare made her already beautiful features even more striking. Pretty people stayed pretty no matter the expression.
Still, leaving things like this might cause problems later…
Was I overthinking it? Being too cautious? My head felt cluttered with conflicting thoughts.
“Then how about we make a promise instead?”
“A promise?”
Amelia’s glare softened into curiosity, her green eyes sparkling.
“Yes. I don’t like settling things with words alone, but if you ever need my help, just say so. I’ll assist you to the best of my ability.”
“You mean…?”
“Excluding anything too extreme, like donating my entire fortune or committing to large-scale construction projects.”
Making a promise like this was essentially handing over a blank check. That was why I had to set boundaries—especially with a war hero who could demand anything.
It’s like cosigning a loan and going bankrupt.
The thought made me sigh. I’d barely managed to talk my parents out of cosigning for someone once, and the memory still gave me chills.
“I’ll trust your promise. Though I’m not nearly shameless enough to ask for that much.”
Amelia sighed, her lips jutting out in the slightest pout. The way she expressed her mild disappointment was oddly endearing.
“Of course I know that, but drawing the line in advance puts my mind at ease. I’m a bit timid, you see.”
“Really? You seem bolder than anyone to me.”
“Thank you for saying so.”
I smiled and offered a polite nod. The mood had lightened enough that we could head to bed without tension.
“It’s late. We should get some rest.”
“Yes.”
Amelia nodded with a smile. Since the magic circles were installed, they would need regular maintenance. Gaus could handle it, but it would be better if she did it herself. The steady, routine work might help fill the gaps in her self-esteem.
What about the other two?
Amelia’s situation made her especially prone to feeling burdened. But Reina and Charlotte? If they voiced similar concerns…
Should I think ahead?
Amelia had shown me the direction. Even trivial tasks could restore self-worth if they were genuinely helpful. It was good to learn that grand, hero-worthy assignments weren’t the only answer. The key was avoiding anything that felt demeaning. They were war heroes, yes, but also noble ladies. No matter how approachable they seemed, their psychological boundaries would be higher than those of commoners or slaves. I would have to watch carefully to find where those lines lay.
#
When the resort opened, what needed to be done? Obviously, promotion.
—A romantic resort built atop an island!
—A place offering nobles a novel experience and commoners a taste of noble life!
Something along those lines.
“How are the guests?”
“Not many yet.”
In the resort manager’s office, I sat across from Gaus as he gave his report.
“But they did come, right?”
“Yes. Thanks in part to your direct involvement, young master… several wealthy merchants showed interest.”
“Good start.”
Marseille was originally a city of sailors. Though we had styled the resort with noble flair, the actual target clientele was wealthy commoners. That was the goal—noble-style living accessible to commoners. Still, we had taken measures to accommodate nobles as well, by separating the floors. Anyone who refused to share space with commoners simply wouldn’t come in the first place. They probably didn’t even consider their own servants fully human.
“It’s not bad.”
“How’s the service quality?”
“Running smoothly. They’re earning their keep.”
As expected. The main family had sent staff trained in noble etiquette.
“Strictly speaking, the Meyer name is what carries the weight.”
Above counts, only marquesses and dukes existed, and their numbers were few. At most two or three dukes, and roughly the same for marquesses. The largest group in the nobility was viscounts, followed by counts. In a sense, counts formed the backbone of noble society. With a count’s household of such high standing backing the resort, it was difficult for anyone to throw their weight around—especially commoners.
“Yes. The family name is helping it flourish. I’ll be the one working harder, though.”
Gaus muttered while pressing his fingers to his brow. It was his own karma; he could bear it.
“Still better than being hunted as a traitor and losing your head, isn’t it? Just work hard enough to stay alive.”
“Well…”
I chuckled at Gaus’s resigned expression. He had nothing to say.
“By the way, how are the guests?”
“I’ve had them escorted to the villa and treated well. Why? Missing them?”
“Hardly. After having a blade held to my throat, why would I miss them?”
Gaus’s face went pale. Given his past mistakes, his reaction was understandable.
“Really?”
“Yes. I don’t miss them at all. I’m glad they’re far away.”
“Then do your job well. Before I call them back.”
At the subtle threat, Gaus shook his head frantically, practically begging me to stay away.
“I’ll work hard.”
“Good. Let’s do our best.”
I reached out and gave his shoulder a light pat. He understood.
#
A few days earlier.
Charlotte had sailed to the Meyer Villa. Naturally, her two friends had come along as well. With the resort opening soon, the suites needed to be vacated. The resort itself had been fascinating, but the white villa possessed its own quiet dignity—beautiful yet convenient. The staff were courteous. Though they couldn’t completely erase their fear, they maintained proper respect without keeping their distance.
—Thank you.
Words that had been so rare in her own territory now came easily here, like everyday items. It made everything feel more comfortable.
Thanks to that, Charlotte rode her horse with a light heart. She felt wonderfully refreshed.
Amelia was doing embroidery. Reina was absorbed in the chessboard she had received as a gift.
“Hoo…!”
Charlotte pulled her horse to a stop along the coastline from outside Marseille to the docks, catching her breath. The horse was panting as well.
“Let’s rest for a moment.”
She dismounted and took the water bottle tied to the horse’s side. The animal snorted and steadied its breathing. One bottle was for the horse, the other for herself.
“Here. Drink.”
Charlotte gave the horse water first, then drank herself.
“Hoo…!”
Her eyes curved gently. The cool, refreshing sea breeze cleared her nose. The weather was perfect. It had been a long time since she had ridden purely for enjoyment rather than to escape her frustrations.
This feels nice.
Charlotte wiped the sweat from her brow and smiled. If possible, she wanted to move here permanently. That was why she couldn’t ignore the massive ship barreling toward them at terrifying speed in the distance.
What’s that?
Whether the helm was broken, the ship’s controlling magic had malfunctioned, or it was an accident or deliberate ramming—she couldn’t tell the motive. But one thing was certain: to understand what had happened, both the ship and its people needed to be preserved.
I should stop it first.
If it was magic-driven, she couldn’t halt it without destroying the magic or the ship itself. But in any other case, stopping it was possible.
Whoosh…!
A flame ignited in Charlotte’s dangling right hand—a small crimson fireball. She slowly raised her burning hand and swept it across the sea, as if splashing water or cracking a whip horizontally. The fireball skimmed across the water at an angle, skipping like a stone until it reached the bow of the speeding ship.
Boom!
The fireball struck the surface and exploded. A deafening blast. The shockwave slammed into the ship’s side, sending up a towering column of water. The vessel’s bow lurched violently upward, like a motorcycle performing a wheelie.