My Dream Is Peace
However, it was the inescapable fate of the Meyer family’s eldest son that he could not simply idle his days away in peace.
“Young master. Do you see this? This is the tax revenue report. With these figures, we will operate Marseille for the coming year.”
In the plain office, Marseille’s chief administrator Gunter presented the documents with sparkling eyes. He looked like a sycophant again today. Of course, it was only his manner that resembled one. In reality, he was a loyal subject. Thanks to his outstanding ability, he controlled Marseille without the slightest disturbance. And should any arise, he could deal with it at once. A trustworthy sycophant. A competent sycophant, who even possessed a perfectly restrained sense of integrity. He was the ideal figure to keep at one’s side.
“Indeed.”
“Yes. The usual principle in budget execution is to reserve a portion for disaster relief. After all, typhoons do strike from time to time.”
“And other disasters can occur as well.”
“Splendid. You are well informed, as expected.”
Of course I was. I was the one who had told him to draft the welfare budget. I might not know the minute details, but I understood the budget’s existence, the way it flowed, and its overall framework.
‘Is he trying to butter me up?’
When praise was laid on too thick, it started to sound sarcastic. It felt like being told you were amazing for managing basic addition. Slightly unpleasant.
Then I looked at Gunter’s face and realized. No, this man wasn’t like that.
“That concludes my report. If you have any questions…?”
“None, but I do have an order for you.”
“I await your command.”
Gunter’s expression hardened as though he had been waiting for exactly this moment. Even his usual sycophantic, buoyant tone sank heavily. It was like he had become a different person.
“We have quite a few ships, yes? Select one from the captured vessels.”
“Yes. I will have one prepared at once.”
Marseille was a port city. Because the war had come by sea rather than land, naval battles had been frequent—eight out of every ten engagements. Most of the captured ships were inspected and repurposed as merchant or cargo vessels, so removing one would not clog logistics. They had all been bonuses to begin with.
“Next, once the inspection is complete, load the defense troops and have them patrol the surrounding waters. Only the waters belonging to our territory.”
“Is there a particular intention behind this?”
Intention? Of course there was. Simple maintenance of public order was part of it, but not all.
“Gunter.”
“Yes.”
“The war has ended and the age of peace has arrived, but the world has not been swept perfectly clean.”
No matter how thorough the spring cleaning, no matter how many times you wipe every corner and run the vacuum, dust remains. No—it accumulates. War was the same. Residue lingered. Like invisible dust or stains in corners you failed to notice. For now, right after the war, things were quiet, but soon. Before long, the filth would begin to grow. Just like dust that was invisible at first but eventually piled up thickly.
“I understand what you mean.”
“Good. Prepare thoroughly. Fortunately, all the war heroes are here, so don’t be too tense.”
“Could it be that you gathered them for…?”
Gunter’s eyes widened. He seemed to think I had brought the heroes in preparation for threats.
“It’s not that.”
I couldn’t say there was zero intention, but it was only the tiniest bit. About the size of a new eyeball. The most important purpose was to prevent the heroes from falling into corruption. Naturally, Gunter did not look convinced. For some reason the phrase ‘Longing is the emotion farthest from understanding’ floated through my mind.
“Understood. I will prepare with utmost vigilance.”
“Don’t stir up unnecessary commotion right away. To be honest, even I am only making a prediction. It’s not certain.”
“There is nothing as sharp and accurate as the young master’s Danger Intuition.”
It felt good to be flattered, but it was too much. Almost burdensome. No matter how many times I experienced it, I could never get used to it.
“Ahem! Anyway, prepare as I’ve said. I’m heading home.”
“Yes.”
After exchanging farewells with Gunter, I left the building. Since it had been modeled after the Meyer villa, it carried the atmosphere of a beautiful mansion. The sky was blue, the sea was clear, and the wind carried by the cries of seagulls was still salty. Just like the peaceful yesterday.
‘Still, we should prepare.’
In rofan stories, entire time periods were skipped in a single breath, so many events and characters in between were omitted. From the perspective of someone who had been possessed, it was frustrating, but of course it had to be that way. If everything were written out, it would become a tedious group drama, an epic novel, or essentially a setting book.
Early morning. Charlotte had a nightmare for the first time in a long while. It was brutally realistic. Because every scene she saw had been from her past.
‘…It feels awful.’
She pressed down on her churning chest and stepped out onto the balcony. Cool wind slipped into her nose. Thanks to it, the nausea in her stomach settled and her burning insides cooled. She could breathe again.
The people trembling in fear. And among them, the parasites trying to latch onto Reinhardt. Their faces rose clearly in her mind. Charlotte felt the hatred she had briefly forgotten creeping back up like mold.
She wanted to go outside. So she dressed in formal attire from early morning and left. Today she headed inland instead of toward the sea.
“Hoo, hoo……”
Charlotte steadied her breathing in time with her horse. The farther inland she went, the more the wind lost its salt and gained a refreshing clarity. It carried the lush green of the forest.
“Whoa, whoa.”
After riding for an hour from Marseille, Charlotte stopped at the entrance to a quiet forest. She dismounted, gave the horse water, and sat down to drink some herself. Sitting on the bare ground, sleeping on the bare ground—both were familiar to her.
‘Why did I suddenly have that dream?’
It had been nearly two months since she came to Marseille. There had been no discomfort. Her body and mind had been at ease and happy. So much so that she wanted to stay forever. That was why she had worked. Not simply to receive, but to create a relationship of giving and receiving. To have a justification for refusing summons. Thanks to that, she could enjoy the comfort given to her with pride. There was nothing to feel awkward about.
‘…Ah.’
After long contemplation, Charlotte felt her mind clear. ‘Have I become too comfortable?’
Paradoxically, when she had lived in uncomfortable environments, she had never had the luxury to dream. Every day had been exhausting. Instinctively she had fallen into deep sleep to escape reality. But once she became comfortable, she gained leisure. And with leisure came dreams. Even nightmares.
‘This is ridiculous.’
Charlotte let out a hollow smile and shook her head. All strength left her. To think she was having nightmares now that life was easy and comfortable? This had never happened before. If people living difficult lives heard this, they would probably curse her for making a fuss over nothing. Charlotte thought the same. Having nightmares because you got comfortable? It was nonsense. Still, it wasn’t entirely bad. It made her keenly aware that she had gained true leisure.
‘That’s nice.’
Charlotte leaned against a tree and closed her eyes. The tree’s shade and the cold wind blowing past felt only refreshing. “Let’s head back. Just a little more effort.”
Charlotte slowly stood and stroked the horse. The horse nodded. “Good. Let’s go.”
A smile hung on Charlotte’s lips. The day had begun unpleasantly, but in the end it left her refreshed and happy. That was enough. Like how joy comes after hardship. However, today’s nightmare did not feel like a mere meaningless dream. It seemed to be foretelling something.
Roderick, owner of the Roderick Merchant Group and retainer of the Meyer family, received the embroidery and carefully framed it to emphasize its luxury. Then he loaded the embroidery onto a ship and headed for a large city. Marseille was simply too small.
“I will present this piece.”
“Oh my. I’ve never seen a work like this before. It’s embroidery, and the design is quite unique.”
In the auction house of a large port city, a man in a suit widened his eyes at the frame. He was the auctioneer and operator.
“Only the finest silk was used. And the creature depicted here is a golden dragon, symbolizing auspiciousness, prosperity, and well-being.”
“A golden dragon? What is that?”
“It is said to be a dragon that existed in the distant past. Like all myths, there is some exaggeration, but isn’t it wonderful?”
The auctioneer nodded. If asked whether it was good or bad, the answer was obviously good. The meaning it carried was good as well.
‘He’s hooked. If I keep talking, I can raise the starting price even more.’
Roderick continued to ply his tongue. It was dazzlingly eloquent.
“Th-that’s enough. I understand.”
As a result, the half-enchanted auctioneer nodded with a dreamy expression, like someone who had just woken up.
“Very well. I look forward to it.”
Roderick stepped down from the back of the stage with a satisfied smile. The auction would begin soon. He planned to watch whether his item sold properly and whether any worthwhile pieces appeared. Since he had come all this way, he might as well enjoy it.
A moment later, the curtain rose on the stage with the host’s solemn voice. Lights illuminated only the stage. The surrounding area darkened—an environment perfect for indecent acts or pickpocketing. Assassination was also included, of course.
Fortunately, the auction proceeded smoothly. The only distraction was the couple in front of and behind Roderick who were caressing each other’s intimate places.
‘That much is nothing.’
Roderick looked forward with a bored expression. Even when moans reached him, even when their gestures grew bolder, he paid them little attention. Not because he was impotent or lacked sexual desire, but because this was such an important moment.
The moment Roderick’s piece was brought onto the stage, everyone’s attention focused on it. The unique pattern. The overwhelming perfection and delicacy. The explanation attached to the artwork. None of it lacked the power to stimulate human greed.
“Twelve thousand shillings!”
“No more…? Wait! Fifteen thousand shillings!”
Thanks to that, the auction overheated. Roderick received far more money than he had expected. All due to the frenzy and heat of the auction. Roderick smiled with deep satisfaction.
“Kyaaaaak?!”
Right after the winning bidder who had come up on stage grabbed the picture. Up until the moment he let out the scream.