Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 482

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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 252.
Playing Oneself (28)
Strom adjusted her glasses and met Maximian’s gaze, offering an enigmatic smile.
“But I didn’t lie.”
Riche cried out in her joy, unable to contain herself.
“Kelce, thank you!”
Everyone shared the same sentiment, so fortunately no one asked who Kelce was. Duke Arnim spoke urgently.
“Then all we need is for him to regain consciousness?”
“It will take a long time, but yes, that’s essentially it. Though that may prove to be the most difficult part.”
Strom removed her glasses and put them away.
“At first, I attempted to touch the Young Duke’s consciousness directly and wake him. But I discovered the Spirits were layered so thickly around him that it was impossible. For now, it’s better to let the Spirits do their work. We must observe his body’s recovery regularly. It may take months, or even years. A man who should have died is being brought back to life—such time is necessary. Once his body has fully recovered….”
Strom’s eyes turned toward Maximian again.
“You’re the Young Duke’s friend, aren’t you?”
Maximian removed his own glasses and cleaned them as he spoke.
“Then I’d be his enemy instead.”
“Well, I don’t know the Young Duke. I met him for the first time today. Naturally, his spirit doesn’t know me either. I could force my way in through communication, but since he doesn’t know me, he won’t try to converse. Yes, the key is conversation. For the Young Duke’s spirit to awaken, we must draw out dialogue. In other words, you must keep speaking to him. Someone he knows. Family. Friends.”
Riche asked.
“Should we say anything?”
“You could say anything, but it would be better if the topics were ones that would make the Young Duke want to respond. What if you tried to anger him? Stories that would make him want to shout ‘No!’ immediately?”
Strom rose from her seat. She turned to Hispanie, who had been listening in silence.
“Well then, Old Man. I’m giving you an assignment. Once the Young Duke’s body has recovered sufficiently, have the people gathered here take turns speaking to him for several hours each day. Those of you remaining here are certainly the closest people to him. Let me be clear—simply watching won’t do. Speak to him! And one more thing: it’s better not to assist his body’s recovery with medicine. The hearts of Spirits are unknowable. If they leave without completing their work, the Young Duke dies in that very moment.”
Strom’s gaze swept across the faces of Maximian, Riche, Duke Arnim, and Hispanie in turn. Satisfied with the expressions that appeared on their faces, she added.
“Actually, it should take about half an hour.”
2. The One Who Hides, The One Who Seeks
In the letter I hid away,
I wrote my true heart.
Read that letter for me.
It won’t be easy to find.
When you find the letter someday,
read it very slowly.
From the day we met
until today when we part,
all the things I wanted to say
and the things I didn’t want to say
I’ve written and folded away.
I didn’t seal it with glue.
I didn’t lock it.
I only wrapped it in cloth
and placed it deep within my chest.
On the first day of November, snow began falling from morning.
Yien opened the window without thinking, and upon seeing the snow, let out a strange sigh. The snow swirled and descended from the sky above.
“Achoo!”
A sneeze escaped as snow entered my nose. I stepped back from the window and considered closing it, but left it open instead. I gathered a few books and prepared to head downstairs. Meanwhile, a layer of snow accumulated on the windowsill.
When I descended to the Dining Hall, the heads of the children who had arrived earlier were all slightly damp. They must have gone out to play in the snow. I felt a bit melancholy. The friends who would have dragged me out for a walk on a day like this had vanished. Along with late summer.
I knew well enough that this was no reason to feel dejected, swept up as I was in sentimentality. Yet the school grounds felt desolate without Lanji and Hailjer. The Friends of the People students whom Lanji had entrusted to me remained, but they could not compare to friends I had grown accustomed to over so long.
I would graduate soon as well. I had already decided who would take over my duties. I even felt oddly relieved by the prospect. Lanji would surely scold me if he knew. But I had already prepared my response. He left in summer and hasn’t sent a single letter all winter—what does he have to say about that!
“Senior Yien. May I sit with you?”
As if reading my thoughts, my junior appeared, and I offered an awkward smile. Patrick, the son of Baron Liearid—the only junior who could sit among the noble students’ table. He was also the one who would lead the Friends of the People students at Grome School after I departed.
“Sit.”
Shortly after, food arrived. The service of attendants and the high-quality meals prepared separately were privileges exclusive to noble students.
“What about your friends?”
“Over there.”
Patrick had naturally joined the Friends of the People because his father was connected to them from the start. With his cheerful disposition, he had many friends unrelated to the organization. He was skilled at mingling with them without revealing his true identity. Even Lanji had once admired Patrick’s way of navigating such matters.
“Did you quarrel?”
“No. I thought I’d talk with you, Senior.”
“The kids will get the wrong idea.”
“Everyone at school knows you have no interest in boys.”
Patrick’s lips curved into a mischievous smile.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“The rumor that you’re trying to curry favor with the Count’s House? Don’t worry. My father fell out of your father’s favor long ago anyway. He’s always been fond of fishing, and lately he’s taken up polo.”
“He must have his reasons.”
We both knew why Baron Liearid acted as he did, but neither of us intended to speak of it in front of others.
“You seemed sad.”
At Patrick’s sudden remark, I found myself thinking of my own expression. What face had I been wearing?
“It’s snowing.”
“What does snow matter.”
The words came out without conviction. Patrick chuckled.
“You must be thinking of the seniors who left school.”
“Why do you presume to know what others are thinking?”
I had no appetite, and was absorbed in spearing peas with my fork when Patrick, having finished his meal, stood and spoke.
“Even after you graduate, please visit the school occasionally.”
“Sure.”
I gave a perfunctory answer, and he immediately shot back.
“Don’t be like someone else and disappear without a word, making us worry.”
“You brat….”
Patrick quickly fled. I looked down at my plate. Beside the peas I’d crushed rather than pierced, nearly half my food remained. I realized I had been lost in thought the entire time, even with someone sitting across from me.
After afternoon classes, I returned to the Dormitory when a servant informed me that a package had arrived and a visitor was waiting. My heart suddenly raced. I hurried up the Staircase and pushed open the door.
“Miss Countess Amaranth, hello.”
It was Sylviet de Argenson. I felt my shoulders drop noticeably, conscious of the disappointment. My voice came out less kindly than intended.
“What brings you here?”
I tossed the book carelessly onto the desk and stretched before heading to the tea table. Silviet sat across from me, waiting as she always did—the very picture of refined elegance. Today she wore a hat made of silver-grey sable fur and a shawl draped across her shoulders. It must have been terribly expensive, and I found myself wondering idly whether the House of Argenson truly possessed the means to purchase such luxuries so casually.
“Every time you greet me with such coldness, my heart grows as frigid as this winter day, traveling all this distance to see you.”
I wanted to retort that she need not come at all, but I held my tongue.
“I’m sorry. The lessons were tedious, and I was irritable.”
“I understand. Studies must be terribly difficult. I wouldn’t even dare attempt them myself.”
As always, her words came so easily, so tenderly. It made it nearly impossible to tell her outright that I wished she would stop coming.
“How can you say such things when you’ve come to teach me?”
Yien was right. Silviet came at the request of Countess Amaranth to discuss with me the gossip of high society, social connections, and matters of etiquette. For someone like me who had no interest whatsoever in such things, it was far more tedious than any classroom lesson.
“If you would only take the slightest interest, these conversations would be mere entertainment rather than study.”
“I’ll try my best.”
I said this knowing full well that my mother would hear of how I performed, and I could not afford to disappoint her.
A servant brought refreshments, and for the next half hour, tedious talk of high society continued. The only reason I managed not to doze off was the thought that such knowledge might prove useful later in the work of the Friends of the People. As the conversation drifted toward the subject of Arnim Duke, I suddenly tensed.
“They say he remains asleep still. I wonder if he will ever awaken at all.”
According to what Silviet had conveyed, the nobility seemed unaware that Joshua had become two people. Despite how easily such rumors should have spread through servants and the like, the fact that this had not occurred suggested the story was simply too absurd to be believed.
“Should the Young Duke fail to awaken, there is considerable debate among the curious about who will inherit the ducal title. It has become the topic of conversation wherever one goes these days. There is a grandson through the late daughter, but few regard him as a suitable heir, given that his father—the son-in-law—took his own life under rather unclear circumstances. Because of this, speculation has begun to extend even to distant branches of the family.”
I responded.
“That does sound troublesome.”
Silviet nodded and continued with her account of the collateral relatives in question—discussing who currently stood highest in the line of succession, who enjoyed a good reputation for their integrity, and which of them had recently abandoned their dissolute ways and undergone a change in demeanor.
My mind, however, wandered to other thoughts. According to information obtained through Nightwalk, the one who had stabbed Joshua von Arnim was the problematic duplicate doll. That day was also the day Moro had decided to make his move against the Duke. Reflecting on the plan that Lanji and I had devised under the orders of the Exile Council, I could not easily claim that I bore no responsibility for the Young Duke’s current state.
Though I had originally envisioned something far worse, I nonetheless felt a twinge of guilt over Joshua’s plight. Perhaps it was the snow that had made my heart restless.
Lost in these other thoughts, I suddenly realized Silviet was concluding her remarks.
“Then I hope to visit you again next time, Miss Amaranth.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Silviet took her leave with impeccable grace. The tension drained from me, and I slumped back into my chair. For some reason, I felt exhausted today.
After remaining like that for some time, I roused myself. It was time for something enjoyable to happen to me—the entire day had been nothing but tiresome. As I pondered what to do, my thoughts turned to the package that had arrived. I sprang to my feet and glanced about, and my eyes fell upon a flat, rectangular object leaning diagonally beside the entrance. Could it be a painting?
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, written consent from both parties is required.

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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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