Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 504

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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 274.
Beneath the Almond Tree (17)
“….”
As Langie emerged in his black cloak, Silviet said nothing, her gaze fixed upon his face. Four years had passed. He had grown considerably taller than her, his youthful softness shed away like a discarded skin. The delicate beauty that had marked him at thirteen—features once girlish and refined—had transformed entirely into something unmistakably masculine. Memory adorns itself in flattering light, yet his present form transcended even those luminous recollections. Three candles sufficed to illuminate the truth. Her eyes never wavered, not even as he settled into the chair across from her.
Langie offered no formal greeting. When Silviet finally returned to her seat, she spoke.
“Here all this time without announcing yourself—have you forgotten the courtesy due to nobility? I thought such manners would have become second nature by now.”
Langie leaned back in his chair, surveying the room around him.
“You speak of etiquette while trespassing in another’s home.”
Silviet’s lips tightened before she unleashed her words in a sharp torrent.
“Ah, trespassing? That’s the specialty of you Republican Faction dogs, isn’t it? Property destruction, assault, home seizure—hardly worth belaboring now. Or am I wrong?”
“Yet you hold another’s sister hostage and coerce people through threats.”
Langie’s voice emerged low. Yien squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them. This was not his usual manner. Touching his sister had struck at Langie’s most vulnerable, most sensitive point. Beneath that quiet tone, fury prowled with savage intensity.
“Hostage? The enemies of His Majesty, the noble and dignified King, are beneath even slaves. My actions merit reward, not censure.”
Langie interlaced his fingers upon his lap, leaning forward until their gazes drew near.
“Then why are you here instead of collecting that reward?”
“….”
Silviet did not answer at once, her eyes boring into him. She sought words that would cut, yet desire made her gaze waver. She lowered her eyes, then raised them again.
“You know as well as I do—I’m not Kingdom 8th Army. Bounties mean nothing to me. So I’m asking you to negotiate. Perhaps it will work? Beg me. Plead for your life, for your freedom.”
A smile curved both their lips almost simultaneously—both bitter mockery.
“Would it matter?”
Silviet’s smile vanished. She turned sharply to look at Yien.
“Ah, I nearly forgot you were here. How terribly rude of me. Count’s daughter, you must be quite curious, yes? What is my relationship to him, precisely? You’d like to hear, wouldn’t you? His past? How he came to meet someone like me?”
It was no idle chatter. Yien was curious—had been for a long time. Yet from Silviet’s tone, it was clear the story she meant to tell would humiliate Langie. Yien shook her head.
“I don’t need to hear it.”
“Don’t lie. It’s written all over your face.”
Yien thought she should never have come. She knew Langie spoke little of his childhood and had deliberately avoided pressing him. Even when fragments emerged, they always stopped short—and she had not come here to hear what lay beyond that silence.
“Seven years ago. When I first saw him. That would have been 984. A year before your precious Republic collapsed.”
Silviet glanced sideways at Langie.
“They called him Joseph then, I believe. Few remember that name now. As the Count’s daughter knows, those were extraordinary times. With Keltika overrun by Republican Faction sympathizers, there was nowhere proper to gather. Everyone scattered. In the central regions, the Salon at Roenbrant Castle was most renowned, and Grand Duchess Amishen frequented it often. There, Langie earned a nickname: ‘the Grand Duchess’s boy.’ Do you know what that meant?”
Langie made no move to stop her, merely burying his expression in shadow.
“You don’t know? Perhaps you were too young to remember those days. The nobility who gathered at Roenbrant Castle weren’t numerous—nothing like Keltika now. Still, there was a certain elegance to it. In those times, any noble of standing kept a young, beautiful attendant. Grand Duchess Amishen was past sixty yet possessed remarkable vitality. The rumors claimed she issued blank promissory notes to acquire Joseph.”
A heat seemed to settle over the darkened room. Someone’s breathing quickened sharply, then stopped.
“I don’t know much of his circumstances before the Grand Duchess acquired him, though gossip circulated—though not all of it credible. Still, his value was established early. Such attendants were uncommon. If I’m being precise, his beginning was unfortunate. He fell into Damala’s hands. Damala was a famous merchant—renowned among the nobility. At that time, Damala controlled everything the aristocrats desired: jewels, spices, and items too delicate to name. But his true fame lay in one trade—trafficking in people.”
Silviet laughed softly, then fell silent. In the room’s sudden stillness, only the curtain covering the slightly open window moved. Yien’s voice pierced the quiet.
“Stop.”
“Why? Is this not entertaining? Surely a story like this must be.”
Silviet’s face brightened at Yien’s protest. Langie endured the humiliation in silence, while Yien’s expression grew as though she might weep. Neither could silence Silviet. She was savoring this moment.
“Our family was poor, so we kept no attendants, and I never learned what such people actually did. But if they merely served, the nobility wouldn’t have paid such enormous sums, would they? That much I understand. And there was another fashion of the time—borrowing attendants. People lined up hoping to borrow the Grand Duchess’s boy, even for mere days.”
Silviet turned to Langie with a smile.
“I wanted to as well, but circumstances didn’t permit it then.”
When Langie did not respond, an edge crept into her voice.
“But if those people saw you now, I wonder if they wouldn’t gladly pay twice what they did back then. What do you think?”
Silviet rose from her seat and walked past the table until she stood before the chair where Langie sat. She reached out boldly and touched his chin.
“I’ve also heard about what happened to you just before you fled from the Grand Duchess’s side.”
Her fingertips traced along his jawline.
“How fortunate that you have a younger sister. You didn’t take your own life because of her, did you? And it’s because of her that you’ve fallen into my hands like this.”
In that moment, Langie’s hand struck hers away. Silviet stumbled but quickly steadied herself, and her voice changed at once.
“Do you remember what I said long ago? That I’d make you prostrate yourself before me and kiss my feet? Shall we try it now? You’d endure anything for a sister as precious as life itself, wouldn’t you? Think of your sister, who knows nothing and is making pastries right now. I’ll throw her into a cell. The soldiers will trample her!”
Silviet stepped back.
“Go on, do it. You need to change my mind, don’t you? Will your current attitude work? Do it, quickly!”
“You are.”
Langie’s voice cut through the lingering echo of Silviet’s agitation.
“Never satisfied.”
Silviet let out a soft laugh.
“Right. I can’t be satisfied with so little. I want many things. Besides, now that I’ve seen you again, I want even more.”
“That has no end.”
When Langie lifted his head, his eyes met Silviet’s, which had been fixed upon him all along. Her pupils gleamed with a ravenous, almost swallowing hunger.
“You understand well, then. So why not become mine forever? Wouldn’t that be right?”
“Let me tell you something you don’t know.”
Langie’s voice was slightly strained.
“Knowing me is far more dangerous than your imagination allows. The Kingdom 8th Army has pursued me for a long time. My mere designation of you would be reason enough for them.”
Silviet scoffed.
“Ah, trying to threaten me? You’ll tell them I’m your accomplice if I drag your sister into this? Don’t make me laugh. I’m nobility. If I say it wasn’t me, who would believe your word? Would I have come here in the first place if I were afraid of such wordplay without evidence? Stop playing games and submit to me willingly. Then I’ll cover everything up for you.”
“If you truly could protect Lanzumi and Yien, I might have given you everything you wanted.”
Yien bit his lip as he heard himself included in that statement. He clenched his fists. Prioritizing the protection of useful noble members was a directive required by the Exile Council. Even if Yien were not a friend, Langie would have been the sort to follow that requirement. For the sake of Friends of the People as a whole.
“I can do that. Do I look like I’d lie?”
“No. You simply cannot lie to yourself. That’s why you can’t keep promises either. The moment a desire greater than a promise arises, you’ll abandon it immediately.”
“Ah, so you’re giving up? Really?”
Silviet’s fingertips trembled slightly.
“You won’t be able to give up, will you? How could you abandon your own sister?”
“I wish I could have trusted you.”
“You dare say you can’t trust me? Don’t be so arrogant just because you’ve grown a little. You’re nothing but a young servant I can do with as I please. Did you really think that attitude would work on me?”
Langie stood. Silviet flinched involuntarily. They stood facing each other, separated by only a few spans. Close enough that their breath mingled. Langie’s lips moved.
“Do you trust yourself?”
Silviet could not immediately respond. But after a moment, she ground her teeth and answered.
“I despise that you—a commoner—possess such dignity. I cannot believe a rose blooms in a sewer. I’ll crush it. I’ll make you understand exactly where you come from.”
Langie stepped closer. His voice came from near her ear.
“Satisfaction is only a moment.”
The next instant, Langie reached out and pulled her face toward his.
She thought her eyes had opened wide. Yet she saw nothing. Only sensation remained. At first it was cold, then it burned hot. The shock was swallowed by desire. Her senses were drawn into the subtle fragrance and touch. She did not even realize her own hands had risen to encircle his neck and respond with fervor. Some sound came from nearby, but it was only distant noise.
There was no reason. I didn’t want to know one. A single cup of cold water offered to a thirst I’d endured for a hundred years needed no justification.
Just a little more.
The moment I tried to pull my parting lips back together, a cold whisper reached my ears—a voice meant only for me.
“Then try to explain yourself well.”
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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