Chapter 42

In her dream, Charlotte found herself in the middle of an infinitely vast and silent sea.  

A solar eclipse where the moon blocked the sun had paused at the ring phase. Using the shimmering band of light beyond the moon’s shadow as her guide, she fled endlessly through the vast darkness.  

Splash. Splash.  

The sound of water being violently struck echoed rhythmically in the stillness. Without knowing who or what was chasing her, she ran forward madly. Even though her breath was caught at the edge of her throat, she couldn’t stop running.  

How long had she been running? When she finally turned around, exhausted, Charlotte was met with the sight of a silver gun barrel aimed directly at her. The cold metallic object pointed at her forehead sent a chilling sensation down her spine. The hand holding the gun was pale and delicate.  

“Didn’t I say the threats would continue?”

Lida’s voice, carrying the presence of the Overseer, rang out.

Terrified.  

Charlotte tried to turn her body to flee again, but the frozen black seawater beneath her feet had already trapped her.  

I don’t want to die.  

Her trembling hands reached up to grab the barrel of the gun. The trigger was pulled.  

Bang!  

“Hah… Hah…”  

Charlotte shot up, clutching her chest. Her entire body was drenched in cold sweat, and she was trembling uncontrollably. Ever since meeting the mastermind, she often dreamed of hearing her voice, but this was the first time a gun had appeared in her dreams since the train station incident.  

The black sea during the halted eclipse, her endless running, and the gun barrel aimed at her.  

“It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”  

At such moments, she would think of Erhen, who had once held her in his arms and whispered those words. Charlotte hugged her knees and took deep breaths. Somehow, recalling his voice made her feel as if Erhen was right beside her, and tears began to fall uncontrollably.  

***

After calming herself down, Charlotte got out of bed and trudged toward her wardrobe. Opening its doors, she pulled out a box hidden deep inside.  

The box bore the Rosenheim Ducal Family’s crest, lavishly engraved in gold. Moving the box to the table, Charlotte unlatched it. With a clicking sound, the lid opened to reveal a silver revolver secured alongside eight bullets.  

This revolver had been a gift to Charlotte just before her divorce from Erhen, during the Duke’s firearm business negotiations. Since she had left behind all items associated with Erhen when she moved to Heringen, the revolver had remained stored in her room’s wardrobe.  

Charlotte carefully held the revolver. Its solid frame contrasted sharply with her trembling hands.  

As if reciting a spell, she murmured to herself, 

“Don’t be weak, Charlotte.”  

She resolved to cultivate the strength to protect herself—without relying on anyone else.  

So that no one else would suffer because of her.  

***

The next day, Charlotte arrived at the royal palace and sat in a reception room to catch her breath.  

Over the past two days, confined to her home, she had tried to guess why Michael had summoned her, but nothing came to mind.  

Why would the protagonist of this world…  

Michael was someone who knew her secret. In this world, which had already reached the end of its original story, Charlotte had no future knowledge to offer him.  

Back when she had become the Marchioness of Rosenheim, during a moment when Erhen was absent, she had boldly revealed her secret to Michael.  

Her reasoning had been simple: if she was going to live on the protagonist’s side, she might as well live as safely as possible. Of course, Michael hadn’t believed her at first. 

“This is the world of a book I once read.” 

“What kind of nonsense is that to say to someone you’ve just met?”  

But thanks to the detailed original work, which had chronicled Michael’s life since childhood, Charlotte had managed to convince him completely. Slowly, she had begun to spoil bits of the original story, helping Michael and Erhen lower the difficulty of their tasks.  

After the rebellion succeeded and Michael ascended to the throne, Charlotte divorced Erhen, believing she was no longer of any use—at least not to Michael.  

No matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t fathom why Michael would summon her again.  

As Charlotte sank deeper into thought, the door to the reception room opened.  

“Viscountess, I will escort you to the Plains of the Sun.”

A chamberlain said politely, bowing.  

The Plains of the Sun, one of the many gardens in the royal palace, was also Michael’s secret garden. Being summoned there could only mean one thing.  

***

“It’s been a while, Viscountess Lintz.”  

“Peace to Rohadin.”  

Michael greeted Charlotte cheerfully as she entered the garden.  

Acknowledging her greeting with a raised hand, Michael dismissed the chamberlains who had followed them in. Charlotte lifted her head.  

“How is your health? You must have been quite shaken.”  

“Thanks to Your Majesty’s concern, I recovered quickly.”  

“The Duke of Rosenheim seems much improved.”  

“Pardon?”  

“I mean Erhen’s demeanor has changed.”  

Michael added with a smile, explaining how Erhen, who had returned after a season, now carried a warmth on his face that had never been there before.  

The comment, which felt as though it hinted at her relationship with Erhen, made Charlotte blush.  

“The Duke of Rosenheim will arrive shortly. I scheduled your meetings separately because I wanted to speak with you first.”  

Michael walked past Charlotte and lightly perched on a chair. Turning toward him, Charlotte nodded.  

“I no longer have any information to offer, Your Majesty. If I had known about the ambush on the Duke of Rosenheim, I would have warned you.”  

Charlotte spoke firmly, emphasizing her point.  

After all, the epilogue of the original story was little more than a fan service, depicting happy days under Michael’s reign.  

There was truly nothing Michael could gain from her anymore.  

Michael, who had been silently observing her, finally spoke.  

“The weakened liberal faction.”  

“What…?”  

“You once mentioned that among the forces threatening Rufus, there was me and that faction.”  

Charlotte stared at Michael in disbelief.  

Had I really said that? 

It must have been one of the countless pieces of information she had shared to gain his trust, but she hadn’t expected him to remember it so vividly.  

As expected of the protagonist. While her own memories from three years ago were hazy, Michael recalled everything with precision.  

Michael continued, 

“How long do you think an absolute monarchy can last?”  

“Your Majesty, such ominous words…”  

“I am not ignorant of the tides sweeping across the continent. If I hadn’t dealt with Rufus, that faction you mentioned would have taken his head.”  

There was no trace of jest in Michael’s calm demeanor.  

His golden eyes, shimmering in the sunlight, stared steadily at Charlotte.  

Was this the ripple effect of me meddling with the world’s flow? Or was it simply because Michael, as the protagonist of this world, was extraordinary?  

His words, always prioritizing the kingdom’s people over his own safety, were enough to leave Charlotte speechless.  

“I intend to bear that responsibility.”  

Since Dostern’s mysterious death, the thoughts that had plagued Michael night after night had led him to this conclusion: Charlotte.  

“Please never forget that the foundation of this kingdom is its commoners, not its nobles, Your Majesty.”  

Michael recalled the day Charlotte was granted the title of Viscountess after her divorce from Erhen.  

Rather than celebrating her elevation to nobility, she had hesitated before offering those words, awakening Michael to what truly mattered for the kingdom’s future.  

She had come from a world where social hierarchies didn’t exist, and thus she had been ruthless toward nobles who abused their power.  

Though he had never shown it outwardly, Michael had found her attitude refreshing.  

After stabilizing the kingdom, the first thing he reformed was the Senate, which had been composed entirely of nobles—all because of her words.  

“May I borrow your insight once more?”  

Michael turned to Charlotte.  

“Tell me about the life you lived.”  

Charlotte blinked in disbelief.  

It wasn’t any other information, it was her life in her past life.

Still, a person’s habits and attitudes were shaped by their experiences.  

Even if Charlotte had been the daughter of the Rothschild family, her actions had been distinct from those of the Singred society, which was known for its republican ideals.  

Michael wanted to understand that difference.  

By following that thread, he hoped to uncover more about the mysterious Dostern organization. 

“Once a week, I’d like you to stop by my office and tell me a story.”

“…….”

“What do you think?”

Charlotte remained silent for a moment. 

Perhaps, by helping Michael, she could slightly reduce Kopenbach’s threat toward Erhen. However, she was also worried about whether this would mean she was interfering with the flow of this world. Unable to decide quickly, she hesitated.

After a brief pause, she finally opened her mouth with difficulty.

“…May I ask for some time to think about it?”

“Of course.”

Michael nodded. Relieved by her response, which wasn’t entirely negative, his gaze shifted toward the garden’s entrance. 

Noticing someone entering under the guidance of an attendant, Michael quickly added, 

“Ah, and I’ll tell the Duke of Rosenheim that Cafe Blumen will be brought into the royal palace. So, Viscountess, make up something appropriate.”

Charlotte looked up at Michael with an expression of disbelief.

“This is the first I’m hearing about it, Your Majesty.”

“It’s the first time I’m saying it too.”

Michael smirked, seemingly amused by his own words, raising one corner of his mouth. Then, his attention turned to the approaching Erhen.