Servant of Evil - Dreamnotfound

Chapter 3

Dream had always been arrogant.

It's not like his pride is rooted in nothing. He's skilled, very much so. He is intelligent, and that is without a doubt. He is adept at combat and knowledgeable in politics, but when focused he is blinded. He is headstrong and often charges ahead, he is impulsive and he is impatient. He is like a storm that thunders tempest, ripping apart everything in its path. He is like an inferno that blazes fervid, burning down everything in its vicinity. He fights only for himself, and does not think to account for anyone else. He wins, but in his victory he loses. He is swift, and he is untamed, and he is Dream. George learns that early in his life, from when they were kids frolicking about without a care in the world. He also learns that early into Dream's rule, from when he had his first few meetings with his royal council.

George is sat in one of the hidden passageways leading to the meeting room, the sound of discussion muffled through the wall but still audible. He peeks through a small gap, attentively paying attention to everything lest someone pull a quick assassination attempt on Dream. It's not too uncomfortable and while it can be slightly claustrophobic, it's nothing he isn't trained for. After all, when the Ace has no errands to carry out, he is tasked to protect the Queen from any sort of harm. He works for no one but him, after all. The only time he is permitted to leave his side is when dismissed or tasked with direct orders, and even then he is still reluctant and wary. While it may sound dull, such is simply the life of an Ace, and George was one of them.

Dream looks like an entirely different person out there, faced with the expectations of the world around him. He looks like an entirely different person donning royal robes and sitting at the head of the table with his mask obscuring his usual expressive face. The disparity between the Dream he knows and the Dream he has come to serve is almost always disorienting, it doesn't even feel like they'd even remotely be associated with each other. George supposes it makes sense, because out there he is not Dream. He is the Queen of Diamonds, the sole ruler to a vast empire.

"We're running out of funds, you say?" He clarifies, as if trying to make sure he read correctly the last of the meeting's agenda. Someone raises their hand, and the Queen nods at them in acknowledgement.

"Yes, your Majesty." The noble is now passing around papers, presumably reports, for everyone to skim over and for the Queen to read in complete detail. He hums as he looks down at the sheets and gestures for them to carry on. "We're just a few more months away from total financial ruin."

"Natural disasters have also ruined the fields." Another speaks up after similarly being given permission to. "I'm afraid our reserves are running low." There are bated breaths at the silence that follows the statement, waiting to see what the Queen will do at the first big hurdle that has come his way.

"I don't quite see the gravity of the problem here." The Queen tilts his head in question, and there's an almost childlike innocence and ignorance to his demeanor. George knows he is deliberate, though. "Just raise the taxes for the lower class more, and the treasuries will be filled. There's no need to think so hard about it." There are murmurs of agreement throughout the room, and soon most of them are nodding at the proposal. Unfortunately the unanimous cooperation is abruptly shattered by a fist banging on the table and the screeching of a chair against the floor as it's being pushed back.

"But, your Highness, the peasants have no more bread!" A particularly defiant member of the council is stood and had spoken up out of turn for the nth time. George already knows her fate, and pities her accordingly. "They've ran out and are starving!" The Queen's annoyance is palpable, but he hides it with a dismissive hand motion and a nonchalant remark.

"Then let them eat cake."

Humanity is greedy, and their greed has become the defining factor for their survival. Living comes at a price, and money runs the world. The world demands too much of the people living on it, and the lower class pay the price of their lives for it. It is cruel, and it is merciless, and it is the world they have come to rule.