Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 617

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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 66.
The Velvet-Lined Invitation (30)
“Oh, no. I simply adore discussing beautiful things. If the Young Marquis acquires it, do show me sometime. The emeralds embedded in ‘Morning Forest’ are truly exquisite, aren’t they?”
“I shall make certain to obtain it and show you first, my lady. Please wait until next month.”
The atmosphere in the Salon remained wonderfully pleasant as such cordial exchanges continued. At this rate, the gathering would persist for another two hours or so before concluding around midnight.
Several guests would remain at Schniwaldt Mansion under the pretense of excessive drink, while others would require carriages. It appeared three or four would need bedrooms prepared.
That was when an Attendant emerged from the entrance and approached Colette with hurried steps, whispering urgently in her ear. A single drop of ink seemed to fall upon Colette’s mask-like composure, rippling across her face with surprise. She nodded and whispered back.
“Tell them I shall be there shortly.”
Even after the Attendant departed, Colette waited a moment longer. Then suddenly, she furrowed her brow and pressed her fingers to her temple. Several guests immediately noticed and leaned forward with concern.
“Count, are you well?”
“You seem unwell…”
Colette’s expression grew haggard as she apologized, explaining that her chronic headaches had returned and she must retire early. She suggested postponing today’s unfinished discussion until four days hence. As she rose unsteadily and bowed apologetically, all the guests grew concerned for her health and hastily prepared to depart.
Amid a flood of kind solicitations—offers to send medicine, calls for her physician, recommendations for herbal remedies—Colette maintained the faint smile peculiar to those enduring pain, accompanying them to the Entrance Hall to bid them farewell.
Once they had all departed and she closed the manor door behind her, Colette’s expression transformed entirely—no longer haggard elegance, but a vibrant smile.
She climbed the stairs to the second floor with quick steps. Entering the Salon where guests had gathered moments before, she found servants clearing away remaining wine and food onto trays. She gestured for them to hurry, then slipped into the small auxiliary chamber adjoining the Reception Room and closed the door. From deep within a display case, she retrieved a bottle of wine, along with fresh napkins and gleaming new glasses, arranging everything carefully on a silver tray.
Once the servants had descended, Colette closed and locked the Salon door. She added more wood to the fireplace. Then she drew back the heavy curtains behind the Stage where musicians had performed, found the key, and opened the small door.
A figure emerged from within and crossed the Salon without hesitation, settling into the largest armchair beside the fireplace.
Colette followed quickly, knelt before the figure, and spoke in a whisper-soft, elegant voice.
“I greet you, Princess Charlotte, my lady, from this distant foreign land.”
“I wish you peace, Count Schniwaldt.”
Espin—that is, Charlotte—smiled faintly. As Colette raised her head, she examined the princess carefully. The attire was not befitting a princess, but this was a foreign land and circumstances were extraordinary, so it could not be helped.
Yet the wide skirts fashionable in Keltika had a broken waistband, the sweater and shirt bore scorch marks, and the shoes were quite literally covered in scuffs. She appeared to have kicked something repeatedly—and not merely once or twice.
Yet she showed no signs of injury or exhaustion. Even appearing as an ordinary, perhaps somewhat rough nineteen-year-old girl, she remained the spirited princess that Colette knew.
Soon Colette lowered her brow in relief and sighed, then retrieved the prepared items from the auxiliary chamber and placed them on the table. She waited for Charlotte to bring the glass, its reflection dancing with firelight, to her lips before speaking.
“I am truly grateful to see you in good health again. You cannot imagine how worried we have been.”
“We?”
“Since you disappeared from Nenyaple…”
Charlotte’s expression grew puzzled.
“Disappeared? Why would you think that?”
Colette too looked startled. Of course, she had no intention of mentioning that she had sent Attendants to track Charlotte.
“Well, it has been nearly a month since you vanished from Nenyaple… Did you not know?”
“Know what?”
“That you have been placed under a wanted notice?”
Charlotte’s eyes widened slightly.
“I knew Nenyaple was searching for me. I knew why, too. But a wanted notice? Truly?”
“Not from Nenyaple. The order came from Symbolion—the continental council of all Mages. The Orleans Royal Magic Academy belongs to it. Nenyaple does as well, though it is not the superior body, I understand. In any case, they issued a wanted notice for both you and Maximian Lipkne. Word reached Orlie, and three members of Etoile along with Marie Louis have already entered Anomarad. They went toward the Marquis Moniz Territory, but once contacted, they should return shortly.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened somewhat, and after a moment, she burst into laughter.
“So that’s how it was. Everyone has been busy. I apologize for the worry. I didn’t even know I had disappeared.”
“You may laugh, my lady, but these past days have been hell for us. The 3rd Detachment of Etoile wanted to send me to the gallows for encouraging you to go to Anomarad alone, but fortunately, being here saved me from their wrath. However, had we not found trace of you by next month, I would have had to report to the Grand Duke, and an immediate summons would have been issued for all of Etoile—even those stationed at the Keep.”
“Your Highness may laugh about it, but these past few days have been hell for us. The 3rd Detachment of Etoile wanted to send me to the gallows for encouraging you to go to Anomarad alone, but fortunately I’ve avoided their wrath by being here. However, if we hadn’t found traces of Your Highness by next month, I would have had to report to the Grand Duke, and an immediate mobilization order for all of Etoile would have been issued—even those stationed at the Keep.”
Charlotte nodded. She fully grasped the gravity of the situation Colette was describing, but instead of letting it show on her face, she offered a wry smile as she spoke.
“It’s been ages since I almost got to see Lorang’s face. He’d probably sigh when he saw me and say…”
“‘Your Highness, this is most troublesome,’ wouldn’t he? Lord Castile does look rather endearing when he says things like that.”
As the tension eased, a smile finally bloomed across Colette’s face as well. Charlotte added with a mischievous glint.
“Colette, you don’t have feelings for Lorang, do you? I heard he has a fiancée back in his homeland.”
“Well, he does, but why hasn’t he married her even at twenty-six?”
Though they spoke this way, both knew it was mere jest. Colette was the eldest among Charlotte’s attendants, yet she had taken on the role of friend more than anyone else. In the Orlie court, where factional intrigue and dark machinations flowed between rival camps, I had struggled to survive without the backing of my mother’s family, and I had come to realize that a princess whose main support came from military forces like Etoile sometimes needed someone to play the role of a friend.
That role was something the reserved Lorang, Marie Louis, or even Nay—who rarely opened her heart—could not fulfill.
“By the way, where did you get that lovely dress?”
“I went to Rose Valley and found so many cute things. I wanted to buy a hat too.”
“Next time, go with me. I know many good shops.”
“I’d like to, but I think I’ll need something different for a while.”
Charlotte lifted the hem of her skirt with her fingertips to show Colette, and she immediately understood. It meant she would need men’s clothing.
“I see. I’ll prepare it right away. Will you be staying in Keltika for a while?”
“Yes. I’ll arrange to stay here, and send some excuse to the Grand Duke as well.”
“That sounds like you won’t actually be staying here, Your Highness.”
“I’ll be coming and going, but it’s rather far from here. I’m thinking of arranging a separate room to stay in. Somewhere around Strudel Street.”
Colette nodded.
“Yes, I’ll arrange to rent a clean place for you.”
“No, not a house—a room. Somewhere modest and not too large. You know, like a corner room on the third floor of some quiet building in a back alley.”
Colette tilted her head in confusion. The Princess of the Orlanne Grand Duchy would stay in a corner room on the third floor of some back alley building in Keltika? Yet, since several members of Etoile who had gone south would soon return to Keltika, there would be no issue with safety. And having been shocked once so severely, they would undoubtedly resort to what was supposedly a tradition created by someone in the 3rd Detachment—the so-called “overprotection.” The Princess would certainly despise it, of course.
As Colette’s thoughts reached that point, she suddenly recalled something and asked.
“Did you perhaps bring someone to stay with you?”
“Yes. Maximian Lipkne.”
Colette’s eyes widened.
“You brought him with you, Your Highness? How? Is that why you both became wanted together? What on earth happened at Nenyaple?”
Charlotte sat deep in her chair, lost in thought, gazing at a candelabra on a table in one corner of the Salon. Soon, a smile graced the princess’s lips—a confident one, the kind Colette loved most.
“Yes, something did happen. And more will happen. Oh, there’s something I’d like to investigate. Do you happen to know a man named Pleasance on Archnober Street? He’s from our country, and I heard he has quite a reputation as a detective.”
Colette looked slightly surprised, then broke into a bright smile.
“Do I ever.”
Benet was not a simple client, as expected. As I followed Benet down the street, we passed in front of his office, where a nameplate on the outside of the glass door read: “Benet’s Various Brokerage and Arrangement Services—We Solve Your Troublesome Problems.”
“What are you? A fixer?”
“Something more refined than that. I find jobs for people, find rooms, find workers, and occasionally even find marriage partners…”
Seeing someone like this running an office, the rustic Maximian thought that Keltika people apparently couldn’t do anything for themselves.
That night, Maximian’s group arrived at a rather large but shabby three-story building located in a back alley. On the first floor, traces of what had once been a café remained. Merely traces, that is.
The large front door, which hadn’t been opened in years, had its green paint completely peeled away and was boarded up with nails. The seven shutters were in the same condition.
In other words, this café had apparently been quite a substantial establishment during its operation. The signboard, decorated in pink and green, had been nearly erased by weathering, but I could barely make out the words “Florazon.”
“This way.”
Benet walked around to the left side of the building and pointed to what appeared to be the back entrance of the café. It was a door with a long brass handle, secured with a chain and padlock.

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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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