Prophetic Dreams are Bastards
The moment she fell asleep, she knew something was different.
But she couldn’t be certain.
After all, prophetic dreams and regular dreams were easy to confuse.
Rose sighed.
‘Well, I guess that means another night without peaceful sleep.’
Having spent so much time drifting through dreams like a corpse, unable to move even a finger, this wasn’t anything new.
Still, her love-hate relationship with prophetic dreams inevitably continued to simmer in a corner of her mind.
Of course, her success, freedom, and connections with the merchant guild were all thanks to these prophetic dreams.
At one point, she felt invincible, as if the world was at her feet, believing she could do anything.
But it was all just an illusion.
Despite her desperate attempts to avoid becoming empress, the prophetic dreams continuously rejected her choices as if such a future didn’t exist.
So she became that damned empress.
As soon as she decided to look for an opportunity to escape after becoming the empress, the prophetic dreams disappeared for a while, as if their job was done.
Though she became the most precious woman in the highest position, she felt like a dancing jester, always hiding her true self behind an act.
Living in constant tension where one wrong step could lead to death, she couldn’t understand why anyone would want such a position.
This feeling intensified as assassination attempts and poisoning threats from those coveting the empress’s position increased.
With each survival, the nobles’ methods became more vicious.
Eventually, maintaining a constant state of mild poisoning became necessary for survival.
By the time she became the empress, her body was literally in shambles.
Knowing the future wasn’t just about wielding special power.
It meant constantly facing others’ malice, sometimes knowingly suffering, sometimes being unable to prevent the inevitable.
And the guilt that came with it all.
What good was a magical sword if you couldn’t wield it when needed?
Prophetic dreams didn’t come at scheduled times, nor were they tools that could be grabbed whenever necessary.
So even while accomplishing most things according to her will, a terrible question always followed her.
‘I stopped it this time, but what about next time?’
She feared her spirit was slowly wearing away, trapped in what seemed like an eternal dilemma.
‘But this time is different.’
Although she couldn’t control everything as she wished, she now had the Duke in her hands.
While there were uncertainties everywhere, and he was a man who tried to shake her with insincere words, she felt an unprecedented sense of stability.
The thought almost made her laugh ironically.
‘…Was I this desperate?’
It seemed the times when the Duke appeared in her dreams had affected her more than she’d expected.
Sometimes she missed the man from her dreams who had provided sleep, reduced stress, and occasionally offered comfort.
Though now, his appearance would certainly mean a nightmare.
Above all, it was hard to ignore the fact that he was the only one who could stop Argar.
‘Still, that’s completely different from today’s declaration of war.’
Rose collected her thoughts coldly.
Though he spoke as if he were a passionate lover, she had seen and felt too much to be fooled by such acts.
Moreover, strictly speaking, the Duke had shown his ‘greed,’ not his ‘heart.’
‘He really underestimates me. Despite my appearance, I’ve survived by crushing all sorts of trash beneath my feet.’
For someone like her, amateur attempts like ‘I want you’ or ‘Do you think you can escape?’ were worse than saying nothing at all.
Above all, even if the Duke claimed to love her, what fool would step onto a stage with such obvious intentions when she was ready to drive him away?
‘For a ploy aimed at a divorced woman who doesn’t trust men, this shows remarkably little thought.’
Though she couldn’t know how much the Duke had investigated about her identity, it was already pathetic that he chose to dangle the least likely bait, a ‘romantic relationship.’
Rose had never seen a proper relationship between a man and woman in her entire life.
Her father claimed to love her mother, who was his mistress, but the reality was completely different. And what about the Countess?
Born into a noble family and married to a Count, she suffered from countless illegitimate children.
Were commoners any different?
Whether rich or poor, women were merely men’s accessories.
At least, that was the world Rose had seen.
For her, who had barely survived under her father and her husband Prince Hin, loving a man romantically was impossible.
While there was no dispute that the Duke was beautiful and dazzling, that alone was far from enough.
As she was organizing her thoughts about today’s events, Rose’s face suddenly froze.
‘What… is that?’
Rose was momentarily speechless at the scene that gradually came into focus through the hazy landscape.
Heavy perfumes tickling her nose and dresses that dazzled the eyes.
If she wasn’t mistaken, this was the Duke’s upcoming debut ball.
‘No… it can’t be? It’s not. Right, this must be just a dream. Not a prophetic dream, but a regular…’
As if mocking her denial, a scream pierced the air.
“Kyaaak!”
Her heart turned cold at the hysterical cries of young ladies who had come hoping for a connection with the unmarried Duke.
And blood was dripping from the tailcoat of Duke Aytan who had confessed to her.
Rose gritted her teeth in denial.
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
Her eyes burned as if on fire.
There was no assassin in this world who could kill a Sword Master.
‘So that must be a lie.’
Even as she watched blood flowing from the Duke’s body, Rose denied all possibilities.
Even the prophetic dream, which usually forced her to see everything, stopped compelling her to look at the Duke when she desperately refused.
Trembling all over, she looked down at her crumbling shield.
Amidst the red blood staining the floor and faces filled with terror, Rose screamed while bound head to toe.
‘I’ll kill you someday!’
*** *** *** *** ***
When she opened her heavy eyes, only one phrase escaped Rose’s dry, cracked lips.
“Damn dog of a dream…”
Rose looked at the dazzling sunlight by the window and closed her swollen eyes again.
Yes, prophetic dreams are bastards.
Yet despite such despair and cursing, Rose could never break free from these prophetic dreams.
It was because they showed her better choices, because she couldn’t win despite trying everything, and because she believed in her ability.
“Haha…”
As she let out a dry laugh, Rose thought how pathetic her excuses sounded.
Every time she encountered a prophetic dream, one question that constantly tormented her began to tear through her mind.
Was the dream controlling her, or was she clinging to the dreams?
While the world can be blocked out by simply closing one’s eyes, sadly, people can never escape from themselves.
As she endured the throbbing muscle pain and fatigue, there was a knock at the door.
Rose opened her eyes with difficulty and spoke in a cracked voice.
“Who is it?”
“It’s the head maid, Lady Rose.”
Rose swallowed a groan as she remembered she wasn’t at her merchant guild.
“Come in.”
The head maid flinched briefly upon seeing her complexion but quickly masked her expression as she entered with other maids.
They placed a washbasin decorated with flower patterns on the shelf, ready with towels and hot water.
“Please keep it brief.”
At her tone, the head maid bowed deeply and placed warm drinking water on the bedside table.
She had thought the servants would be like Jack, constantly hovering around the Duke, but apparently not.
“Shall I dismiss everyone and return later?”
The head maid was not only consistently polite but also considerate.
Though she had a warm face, her eyes were sharp and she knew her boundaries.
“Please do.”
“Pull the cord beside the bed when you wish for me to return. Then you can choose which maid to keep by your side.”
“Very well.”
Finally, as the head maid left with the other maids, Rose buried her head back in the pillow.
Though she tried her best to hide it, her face was almost completely drained of color.
After spending some time organizing her thoughts about what she’d seen in the dream, Rose smirked.
If life and death are separated by a hair’s breadth, humans naturally move to survive, and self-deception and rationalization are essential in matters of life and death.
This time too, rather than trying to prove something or worry, she decided to focus on keeping herself and those within her circle alive.
Whether she ended up deceiving the Duke, the prophetic dreams, or herself in the process didn’t matter at all.
Rose’s eyes flashed fiercely with a strange light.
“Damn bastard, let’s see who wins.”
Though it was just her talking to herself, she gradually found stability.
Like a merchant who must compensate herself double for any loss, Rose began prioritizing what she needed to do next.
*** *** *** *** ***
After a week of what could barely be called seclusion, Jack confidently handed Rose a prepared list for the ball.
“What do you think?”
“Hm.”
The sound Rose made, one that only came out when she wasn’t entirely satisfied, caused Jack to frown.
“If there’s an issue, please let me know so I can fix it.”
“No, I think it’s fine to proceed as is.”
Though it was just a brief three-page report, Rose, knowing how passionately Jack had prepared over the past week, had to swallow the words lingering in her throat.
‘I’d love to cancel the ball altogether, but if I did that… we’d probably become mortal enemies, wouldn’t we?’
The butler had thrown himself into this task with such fervor that he had drafted the guest list and even secured the Duke’s approval the moment the word ‘ball’ was mentioned.
The fact that he had already sent attendance requests to the Northern nobles, fearing a cancellation, showed just how serious he was.
Jack’s milk-brown eyes, set beneath his neat white hair, briefly studied Rose before he placed the returned list down.
“If there’s anything to critique, I’ll take it. I’ve been in the North for a long time, so I’m out of touch with recent trends. Besides, the Duke’s household has never hosted a ball before.”
Though she already knew this, Rose feigned surprise for his sake.
“Not even once?”
“No, not since the founding of the Aytan family.”
Jack’s eyes reddened slightly, as if the realization stung even more after saying it aloud.
After a moment of thought, Rose pulled a booklet from the small silk pouch she was holding.
“This is…”
“I brought it with me when I joined the merchant guild. There are a few things that need adjusting, but how do you plan to handle the overall image and concept?”
“Image and concept? Balls are usually decorated to match the season and purpose. Is there something more specific you’d like?”
“That’s not bad, but the nobles invited this time are local lords who’ve long held their own territories in Aytan. They’ll use this ball to evaluate the Duke’s household—whether it’s prey to devour, an equal to stand beside, or someone to bow to and beg for mercy.”
Jack, who had been listening quietly, let out a bitter laugh.
“That’s just how nobles are.”
Rose simply smiled and continued.
“If you want to be remembered by someone, you have to be bold and fresh. And there’s one thing you absolutely can’t leave out. Being ‘the first.’ At an event this important, you have to captivate them with something no one has ever attempted before.”
For the first time, Jack’s eyes gleamed.
“The first.”
“Yes, being the first also means being unique. It’s a way to easily outshine competitors and establish dominance, even in the merchant world. That’s why merchants stake their lives on the word ‘first.’ The world doesn’t remember second place. It only remembers the first.”
“I like it.”
Jack looked at Rose with a newfound determination.
“I’ll leave it in your hands, Lady Rose.”
“With pleasure.”
Perhaps due to his excitement at the prospect of organizing the ball himself, Jack handed Rose a cup of warm tea, his expression a mix of anticipation and awkwardness.
It was a small gesture, but Rose smiled as she accepted the tea, appreciating the kindness it carried.
Though she wasn’t thrilled about the ball, she resolved to achieve her goals with utmost effort since it was happening anyway.
Looking at the butler, whom she needed as an ally, Rose thought to herself.
‘Just wait. Soon, those triangular eyes of yours will be smiling beautifully.’
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