Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 366

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 136.
May Your Final Performance
Be Your Greatest (11)
The moment we stepped outside the Guild, Riche grabbed Joshua and shook him back and forth.
“What on earth happened? Tell me.”
“Let’s talk while we walk, alright?”
By the time we’d put some distance between ourselves and the Guild, entering a residential area, I could see Riche preparing to grab and shake me again, so I laughed.
“You can’t actually spend gold, you know.”
“That’s true, but still! And besides, wasn’t the name written on it your father’s? Did the Duke really give you that? Why didn’t you mention having something like that until now?”
Riche had been speaking to Joshua casually until she remembered his father was a Duke, and her words became a bit tangled.
“If I’d had it, I would have used it long ago.”
“Then?”
Joshua pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his trouser pocket and showed it to me. When I took it and carefully unfolded it, I found it was nearly identical to the one I’d just handed to the Guild Master, except for some ink smudging in the corner. Joshua spoke to me as I stared in shock.
“Forging a promissory note and a nobleman’s signature—that’s a crime that gets you extradited to Keltika if you’re caught.”
Durnensa was quite strict about handling promissory notes as well. This worked only because it was a small amount; had it been a large sum, the other party certainly wouldn’t have settled so easily. I might have even been dragged before the lord for interrogation.
“So… you drew this yourself?”
“I was talking with Mak yesterday and ended up needing to make a promissory note, so I made a few extra copies while I was at it. I didn’t expect to actually use one today, though.”
Riche, like any ordinary person who couldn’t easily conceive of something like “forgery,” looked quite tense. But except for the smudged ink, the border patterns and text were so meticulously matched that no matter how closely I examined it, it was difficult to believe it was fake.
Then again, no one knew the House of Arnim’s crest as accurately as Joshua did, and the fact that he could reproduce it identically without the original meant he had the optimal conditions. Moreover, forging his father’s signature wouldn’t be difficult either.
Joshua took the paper back and folded it away, speaking leisurely.
“If I got caught, I’d just end up facing Father anyway.”
“So… would getting caught actually be better?”
“Well, if that promissory note circulates and eventually reaches Father’s hands before finding us again, and we’re still here…”
There was no need to finish that thought. Riche’s shoulders trembled.
“Yeah, that would be it.”
However, Joshua hadn’t fully explained the promissory note’s purpose to Riche.
6. Miss Ines Olfranje
I did not know her, yet she knew me.
Because she knew me, she understood what I desired.
Because she knew me, she never asked me.
Because she knew me, she wanted nothing from me.
And so, without my knowing, she stood in my place.
Only when I lost her did I understand who she was.
A girl wearing a wide-brimmed hat visited the Diamond Rush Theater the following morning. It took some time before she was guided to the Theater Master as she wished, and not merely because she hadn’t made an appointment.
The girl stood in the center of the reception hall, looking around. Those who had arrived before her had monopolized the dressing rooms and even seized all the chairs in the reception hall, leaving nowhere to sit. She settled herself unconcernedly at the bottom of the staircase leading up to the performance hall, resting her chin in her hand.
In contrast to her elegant cream-colored hat adorned with silk ribbon, the dress she wore was so faded from washing that it had turned the color of autumn leaves. It was even short enough to expose her calves. Yet there was no sign of shame at the contemptuous glances of others—just a quiet face.
The sound of cicadas crying outside the theater drifted into the lobby. They’d been diligently loud since morning. The waiting visitors in the lobby entered and exited the Theater Master’s office one by one, and after roughly an hour and a half, finally it was her turn.
Etern had his nose buried in a stack of documents when he glanced sideways at the entering visitor and offered the same greeting for the umpteenth time.
“Welcome. You’re the twenty-third. But don’t worry—I won’t judge hastily.”
“The twenty-third?”
Etern finally lifted his head and scrutinized the visitor’s face before speaking.
“Well, you don’t seem to be here auditioning for the leading role.”
The girl was short, her frizzy hair carelessly tied into two pigtails, her frame painfully thin, and her pallid complexion suggested poor nutrition. In other words, she possessed none of the appearance one would expect from someone skilled in singing or dancing.
“I’m Ines Olfranje.”
Etern tilted his head slightly before recognition dawned.
“Ah, Olfranje’s sister?”
Before Etern could continue, Ines quickly interjected.
“Yes, that’s right. I came to apologize. Of course, it’s about my brother. You were kind enough to send him a script and offer him work, but I’m terribly sorry to say I must give you a difficult answer. We’ve been so unlucky, but my brother has had a severe fever for several days now—he can’t leave the house and can barely swallow oatmeal. If I could only guarantee he’d recover quickly, I’d accept immediately, but if he doesn’t get better, surely it would cause you considerable trouble, wouldn’t it? Your schedule must be all set. So unfortunately, though I’m truly grateful for your kindness, it seems I have no choice but to decline…”
Etern listened patiently to the girl’s rambling, though he found his lips gradually curving upward in amusement. Yet with her speaking so earnestly, he couldn’t simply burst into laughter, and enduring to the end proved quite the ordeal.
“…I just hope you won’t think badly of my brother because of this.”
“I don’t think badly of him.”
Etern suppressed his laughter and managed a gentle smile. The bewilderment on Ines’s face was delightful to witness.
“I’m truly grateful you feel that way.”
“There’s no reason to think badly of him.”
“Pardon?”
Now Ines too noticed that Etern was smiling with a rather peculiar expression.
“Why would I? Olfranje is currently sitting quietly in the practice room over there, observing actor auditions.”
As Ines’s face flushed crimson, Etern casually added what she had clearly hoped to conceal.
“Perhaps your brother left home earlier?”
The people gathered in the practice room exchanged glances and found themselves wearing awkward expressions without quite meaning to. A respected elderly musician, a retired prima donna, a fastidious foreign-trained choreographer, a director with the cynical mouth of a man twice his twenty-eight years, aspiring leading ladies of every variety, and in the back, a young producer who seemed barely old enough to run errands.
“This is quite an unusual combination, isn’t it?”
Choreographer Giovann Hantke spoke his honest impression first and chuckled. Mrs. Molte glanced at Bin Olfranje and remarked.
“A dream team.”
Bin immediately grasped the meaning of Mrs. Molte’s glance and, since this was their first meeting, relatively gently tapped the legs of his chair with his foot.
“Hmm.”
Strauss cleared his throat politely. Though the gathered people appeared uncomfortable and silent, in truth they all knew each other, and they were waiting for one person—the producer who seemed accidentally caught in this gathering, busily rummaging through stacks of papers in the corner. Only when he spoke could they do anything beyond mere greetings.
At last, Joshua lifted his head from the papers and spoke his first words while gazing at the ceiling rather than at the people.
“Ah.”
What could that possibly mean?
As they slowly began to align their intentions through exchanged glances and gradually reached an agreement to convey any message to the producer through eye contact alone, Joshua acted as though no one stood beside him—doing neck exercises, tapping the wall with his pen, counting how many sheets of paper there were—all without uttering another word.
Finally, after a lengthy silent conference, Giovani, selected as representative by a 3:1 vote, stood and approached Joshua’s side.
“Listen here, Joe Hispanie. We’ve all just met for the first time, so shouldn’t you say something yourself? How long do you intend to keep us standing here like gourds hanging from a vine, staring blankly?”
Joshua looked at Giovani’s face and suddenly broke into a bright smile—as though they’d just encountered each other for the first time. Where had he been moments ago?
“Then let’s create something.”
Joshua sprang to his feet and spun around. In one hand he held an inkwell with a pen inserted, in the other a blank sheet of paper, and he came to stand before the table where they were seated.
“Let’s start with this.”
As the paper was placed in the center of the table, puzzled gazes turned toward it. No one understood what he meant by suddenly creating something.
“Mrs. Molte, please choose just one scene from Marie de Trois.”
Mrs. Molte tilted her head in confusion, then glanced at her students standing among the auditioning candidates, and leafed through the script to open a scene. Joshua, catching a glimpse of the page, drew out his pen and sketched several empty staves across the blank paper, then instead of filling them with notes, he wrote lyrics beneath them.
“Just a rough draft.”
Joshua slid the paper across to Strauss and handed over the pen. Strauss regarded Joshua for a moment, then—seeming to grasp his intention—smiled back and began filling in the notes on the staff. Even without orchestration, a melody took considerable time to notate. Once finished, Joshua bowed respectfully and withdrew the paper, sliding it toward the first participant.
“Well?”
She looked flustered and glanced sideways at Mrs. Molte, but found no offer of assistance. Joshua’s gaze turned finally to Bin.
“Would you mind if we used the stage?”
“….”
Strauss had already drawn out his violin. The participant who’d received the paper furrowed her brows in protest.
“You’re holding an audition like this, out of nowhere? I’ve never seen this piece before, and naturally I haven’t had any chance to rehearse….”
Joshua lifted his shoulders lightly.
“No one here has rehearsed it.”
Children of Rune – Winterer
Author: Jeon Min-hee
Publisher: 14 Months Publishing
The copyright to this book belongs to the author and 14 Months Publishing.
To reuse all or part of the contents of this book, you must obtain written consent from both parties.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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