Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 503

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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 273.
Beneath the Almond Tree (16)
8. Intoxicating Poison
That poison is the color of enchanting wine.
The eyes of a dancing courtesan.
The crimson blood flowing through a beauty’s heart.
What has been dissolved within it
is not the vile secretion of a venomous insect
but the blood of roses and the saliva of butterflies.
Its taste is so exquisitely sweet
that once your lips touch it, you cannot stop,
and they say it remains rapturous even as your breath ceases.
The garden, heavy with the fullness of summer, was splashed with fallen roses in every hue.
Upon the terrace of the Manor overlooking the valley of the Summer Villa stood a young lady gazing outward—without an elegant dress, without hair dancing in the breeze. All that the Count’s daughter Ienna possessed were the short locks that fluttered at her ears and a round hat held down with one hand lest it be carried away by the wind.
She was tracing with her eyes the path her departed friend might have taken. The road wound on and disappeared behind a verdant rise, only to reappear crossing a distant plain.
At such moments, I felt my station like a bird trapped in mockery. Of course, Ienna lived more freely than the young ladies of other families. My parents had adapted to my peculiar temperament, and my father trusted and loved his daughter, whose wisdom surpassed that of most noble children, so I could come and go, attend invitations, participate in gatherings—all as I pleased, so long as I caused no serious trouble.
Yet even so, I could not follow my friend to participate in the street fighting occurring in Tia. The Exile Council did not permit members of noble birth to reveal their identities carelessly or to leave their families. I understood the logic of such policy. Without the strength of the hidden Republican noble members, the Republic could not have rebuilt its organization so swiftly after its collapse. The time to reveal myself had not yet come. I lowered my hat to shield my eyes from the sun, tracing the road until it vanished from sight, and my spirits sank.
There remained a lingering regret about my friend’s sudden departure. Though I had been planning to leave soon anyway, had I not met the unfamiliar boy brought by the heir of the Kaltz Family at yesterday’s party, I might have stayed a while longer. Since my identity had been revealed, however brief, remaining any longer was impossible, old friend or not.
What made the regret all the more acute was that Langier had engaged in what could truly be called a genuine conversation with my father, Count Amaranth, just days ago. Even though my father was ordinarily lenient with me, attempting to sound out Count Amaranth, the master of such a venerable house, would have been perilously reckless. Thus far, Langier had remained circumspect, posing as a school friend I had invited to the party. That the opportunity to speak with the Count had arisen was purely by chance. Though it was a carefully modulated conversation, the Count had shown interest beyond mere courtesy and indicated that Langier would be welcome to visit again. Had I only had a few more months—or even just one or two more opportunities to speak with him….
A voice called from behind me, and I turned.
“Miss, a letter has arrived.”
“A letter? From whom?”
“A messenger came and left just now.”
The envelope the Elderly Maid handed me was the thick, fine sort used by nobility. Yet there was no family seal upon the wax. I tilted my head in puzzlement and gestured for the maid to withdraw. When I opened the envelope, a brief letter emerged.
As I read, my face grew pale.
To Ienna of House Amaranth,
To the point: I intend to meet tomorrow with Langier Rosencrantz, your friend and the one who has recently stayed at your Manor. Since he knows who I am, I shall spare myself the tedium of explanation.
Should Langier Rosencrantz refuse, inform him that the safety of his beloved younger sister on Natang 7th Street rests in my hands.
Furthermore, should the Kingdom 8th Army become involved, know that you, too, who have aided his endeavors and provided him shelter, shall not escape unscathed.
Tomorrow at one o’clock in the morning. Baron Muzeta’s Summer Villa. You are welcome to attend if you wish, but I must respectfully decline any other companions.
Yours in haste.
Sylviet de Argenson
Baron Muzeta’s Summer Villa lay shrouded in darkness.
Throughout Belle Valley, where summer villas clustered thickly, there were always a few houses standing vacant. In principle, caretakers should have maintained them, yet not all villas received such care. Some caretakers proved negligent, while others—their owners having built these retreats in moments of optimism before their fortunes dried up—left them to languish in abandonment.
Baron Muzeta’s house appeared to be of the latter sort. Though heavy chains wound about the main gate, there was nothing to impede one who simply climbed the wall. It seemed to have gone unattended for at least a year or two; the outer walls, stained by wind and rain, had long since lost their luster. Despite it being summer, the courtyard was thick with fallen leaves that had never been swept.
I stood at the Manor’s entrance and surveyed my surroundings. There was yet no sign of anyone’s arrival. In the dust of the marble floor lay only my own footprints. When I pushed at the entrance door, it opened easily—the lock had broken. I peered cautiously inside. The desolate Reception Room, unlit by any flame, seemed to gaze back at me, so I released the door and stepped back out into the courtyard.
The night sky was scattered with white clouds. The moon, just emerging from behind them, wrapped the Garden in silvery-blue light. Scattered leaves and weeds, a withered Pond, cold window bars, and shutters trembling in the wind.
Would Langier come?
It was I myself who had sent word immediately yesterday. No reply had come, yet Langier was not one to turn away when Lanzumi’s safety hung in the balance. Still, I hoped Langier possessed some secret method—some mysterious way unknown to me by which he might have spirited Lanzumi safely away from distant Keltika. Even as I knew with certainty that such a thing could not be accomplished in a single day.
I, too, had been threatened. Perhaps it would have been better had I not appeared here at all. Had I any intention of evading this, I should have done so. Yet I could not contain my curiosity. To me, Sylviet was merely a tiresome young lady sent by my mother—the impression of a lower-ranking noblewoman’s daughter who bent her pride and wore out her shoes seeking favor with the high nobility. Her conversation had been so utterly mercenary that despite having seen her many times, I had never dared broach any serious topic. I had thought her the sort who would scarcely be convinced that even servants were people.
Silviet had sent a letter that she could never have imagined sending. What on earth was the connection between Silviet and Langier? Two people who seemed utterly incompatible, who—setting aside differences in station and ideology—should occupy the most distant points from one another in the spectrum of human nature. How had they ever come to know each other? And how had Silviet discovered that Langier was connected to the Friends of the People?
Yien had been turning back toward the entrance, rationalizing her actions by thinking that since she had contacted Langier, he would not deny his involvement even if he hadn’t come to this place. Then Yien’s movements froze.
“Good evening, Miss Amaranth.”
She stood with her back against a pillar beside the entrance. Despite coming to such a place, she wore a flowing black dress. She had appeared as silently as a serpent and was now staring intently at Yien, who was lost in thought.
“….”
Now that they faced each other, the words would not come easily. I knew so little about this woman.
“I have seen Miss Amaranth many times, but today your expression welcomes me most warmly.”
Yien nodded honestly.
“I have never paid you as much attention as I do today.”
“If there is one thing I have ever appreciated about Miss Amaranth, it is precisely that you speak this way in situations like this.”
Silviet moved toward the entrance and pulled the half-open door shut.
“Why should we nobles stand in the courtyard waiting for someone important to arrive? Shall we go inside? I have no companions.”
Whether to believe that was another matter. But regardless of truth or falsehood, the outcome would not change. Silviet held Lanzumi’s safety in her hands.
When Yien nodded, Silviet disappeared first through the doorway. As she moved, I could see candles in several candelabras being lit in succession. Yien followed her inside.
Though dark, the house was not terribly dilapidated. I followed Silviet, who carried a candelabra, up to the second floor. There were only three rooms on the second floor. Passing a bathroom with its door half-open, I glimpsed a bathtub decorated with wooden branches—fashionable years ago—submerged in bluish moonlight. Its surface was white and cracked with dryness.
The spacious living room, which resembled a study, held almost no books. A billiards table occupied the inner part of the room, and behind it stood only a single overturned long chair. Five large purple armchairs surrounded a bridge table that dominated the center of the remaining space. Silviet entered as if she were the mistress of the house despite it being someone else’s, set the candle on the table, and gestured.
“Please sit.”
Silviet sat in the chair facing the door, and Yien sat to her left. Yien spoke first.
“Miss de Argenson, so you were originally….”
Silviet blinked several times.
“Me? I am merely an ordinary woman, just as you have seen me. How did I find out? It was all coincidence. All because of your carelessness. The secrets and organizations of the Friends of the People—they are not as grand as you think. Even a woman like me can stumble upon them.”
Yien did not grow angry but looked at Silviet directly.
“I have thought about how you might have noticed.”
“And did you figure it out?”
“It was a mistake to allow you to freely enter my room since you visited so often. It was true that you borrowed my mother’s name. A belated realization, perhaps, but I have come to understand that even one who posed no danger at first can become dangerous later.”
Silviet made a gesture as if applauding.
“A splendid realization. I hope you put it to good use next time.”
“Listening to what you say now, I understand one more thing.”
“What is that?”
“It is difficult to hide one’s true nature, is it not? You must have suffered greatly pretending to be kind in front of me all this time.”
Silviet pressed her lips together and let out a short, derisive breath.
“Will any good come from mocking me and making me angry? Now I have no need to humor you, esteemed young lady of the Count’s House. I sincerely hope that the distinguished Count and Countess do not collapse when they hear this news.”
Yien regarded Silviet quietly before answering.
“I have always anticipated a situation like this. It has simply arrived sooner than I planned.”
“Ah, so it troubles you not at all that the Count’s House falls into ruin after you slip away?”
Yien looked at Silviet with a pitying gaze instead.
“I doubt you would understand if I tried to explain to someone like you. I sincerely hope that a day will come when we can discuss such matters.”
Silviet, though she held no fan, covered her mouth and pretended to stifle her laughter.
“You know full well that such a day will never come, do you not?”
An answer came from the darkness.
“The world that exists in your mind will endure eternally within it alone.”
Silviet sprang from her chair, peering into the darkness. Beyond the shadowed billiard table, a figure who had been lying on a long chair—visible only as a silhouette—slowly rose to their feet.
Children of Rune – Winterer
Author: Jeon Min-hee
Publisher: 14 Months Publishing
The copyright of 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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