The Kingmaker System-Chapter 362 - 361. In The Name Of Family (2)

The sky darkened as heavy clouds gathered, thick and looming. The scent of impending rain laced the air, and the winds carried a foreboding chill. Cutting through the sky at great speed, I barely needed to flap my wings—the sheer momentum carried me forward, straight as an arrow. The landscape below blurred into streaks of green and gray as I headed directly toward the royal palace of Denril.

Thanks to my invisibility brooch, I remained undetected as I crossed into the palace’s airspace. The high towers and vast courtyards stretched beneath me, bathed in the dim, brooding light of the overcast sky. My senses flared, scanning for Rune’s mana presence, and once I locked onto it, I veered in his direction.

He was in the parlor. And he wasn’t alone.

I landed silently on the stone arch just outside the closed window, my descent forcing a gust of wind to lash against the glass panes. The impact made the windows shudder slightly, drawing immediate attention from inside. Rune and the woman sitting across from him—Duchess Nymeria Konstantinos—turned their heads at once.

I remained perfectly still, knowing they couldn’t see me. The invisibility brooch ensured I was no more than a shadow in the wind. However, to avoid any lingering suspicion, I let the thunder crackle across the sky, its deep growl rolling through the air as if nature itself had reacted to my presence. The Duchess, unbothered, turned her attention back to her tea, her cup poised at her lips. Rune’s gaze lingered a second longer on the window before he, too, returned to the conversation.

"So, where were we?" she asked, her voice smooth, measured.

Rune leaned back slightly in his seat, his posture composed but alert. "My relationship with the royal family of Sestia," he answered.

From my vantage point, I observed her carefully. Nymeria Konstantinos was a woman of striking presence—sharp, calculating eyes that missed nothing. She carried an air of quiet authority, her every movement deliberate, assessing. Even now, she was studying Rune, weighing his words, his expressions.

"Yes," she murmured, moving the cup away from her lips just a fraction. Her head tilted ever so slightly, as though considering her next move.

"You seem quite close to Prince Eric," she noted.

Rune met her gaze without hesitation. "We are," he confirmed, his voice even.

A faint, almost imperceptible curve of her lips. "How come?" she asked. "As far as I know, he doesn’t have much support from the royal family itself. If I’m not mistaken, the second prince, Carlos—the son of the present queen—has already been positioned as the most likely heir to the throne. So then, why align yourself with Prince Eric?"

Outside, I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Rune, however, remained composed. The only shift in his expression was the slight softening of his gaze, a trace of something more personal flickering in his usually guarded eyes.

"Because I don’t choose my friends based on politics," he said simply. His voice carried a quiet conviction, unshaken by the weight of courtly expectations. "Prince Eric and I became friends not out of strategy, nor for political advantage, but because we simply connected. No agendas. No ulterior motives. Just genuine camaraderie."

A small smile pulled at my lips. That was Rune for you—steadfast in his values, never one to compromise his principles for the sake of power.

Inside the room, Nymeria studied him for a moment longer, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her cup. Whatever she was searching for in his face, she seemed to find.

The Duchess scoffed as she placed her teacup down with deliberate ease, her fingers barely making a sound against the porcelain. Crossing one leg over the other, she leaned back slightly, exuding an air of casual authority.

"He’s just an extra prince born to a concubine," she remarked, her tone laced with skepticism. "Do you really expect me to believe that your friendship with him has no political angle?"

"There really isn’t, Your Grace," Rune answered evenly, his expression unshaken.

Nymeria hummed, tilting her head as if weighing his words. "And what if he isn’t chosen as Crown Prince despite all of his efforts in this war?"

Rune’s neutral demeanor shifted into a slow, knowing smile.

"It doesn’t matter whether he is crowned or not, Your Grace. Prince Eric is my friend, and I shall support him despite anything."

She studied him, searching for the slightest flicker of deceit, before setting her hands atop her lap. "I’ve heard that Marquis Fairisles and several nobles have thrown their support behind Prince Eric. Even the newspapers of your kingdom sing praises of his bravery on the battlefield. And if I’m not mistaken, Marquis Fairisles is your grandfather, isn’t he?"

"Yes."

"And he is also Prince Eric’s mentor," she added, watching him carefully.

Rune gave a small nod.

Nymeria arched a brow, her lips curling into a smirk. "And yet you claim your friendship is untainted by politics?"

Rune, unfazed, kept his smile. "It is because Prince Eric became my grandfather’s disciple that we grew close."

Her sharp eyes narrowed. "So your grandfather influenced your friendship."

Rune shook his head, his voice calm. "Not really. In fact, my grandfather explicitly advised us not to get too involved with either of the princes. But Prince Eric is the kind of person who naturally draws people to him."

I crossed my arms, watching the exchange from outside the window. Why are they so obsessively discussing Eric?

[Goddess of Wisdom wonders if Nymeria is trying to gauge Rune’s political stance.]

"That might be the case," I muttered.

[Defender of Divine Glory clarifies that it could be to assess how much danger Rune faces when the fight for the throne begins.]

"Point." I nodded slightly, my wings shifting against the wind.

Nymeria took a measured sip of her tea before placing it back down. "When the fight for the throne begins, whom will you support?"

"Prince Eric," Rune answered without hesitation.

She smirked. "You think he will be crowned?"

"Yes," Rune declared with quiet conviction. "I believe Prince Eric will be the future king of Sestia."

Nymeria’s smirk deepened. "That’s quite a bold statement," she warned.

Rune’s expression didn’t waver. "It isn’t that bold, Your Grace. Apart from his mentor, I am the only one who has witnessed firsthand the extent of Prince Eric’s dedication. He possesses everything needed to be a great ruler—not only skill in combat and intellect but also a heart capable of understanding those who need him." He placed a hand over his chest, his voice steady. "And I have faith that he will not let us down."

Nymeria observed him for a long moment before scoffing.

"You claim your friendships are untouched by politics," she said, voice edged with amusement, "yet you are willing to let politics decide your life partner?"

Rune leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady. "I believe it was fate that decided my marriage to Lady Celestia."

A flicker of something unreadable crossed Nymeria’s face before she quirked a brow. "Since when has our king been named Fate?"

Rune faltered for the first time, his eyes flickering toward the storm outside. Lightning pulsed behind me, casting sharp, fleeting shadows across the glass.

"His Majesty might just be a medium for the one who decides everything for the best," Rune finally replied.

Nymeria’s gaze turned razor-sharp. "You seem like a devout believer for someone from a nation that murdered a dragon," she remarked coldly.

I sighed, already anticipating where this would go.

Rune looked down at his hands briefly before lifting his gaze again.

"My sister once said," he began, making me frown slightly,

"That a person’s past does not define them—it is their present and their intentions that do. If a man is honest with his heart and his convictions are pure, he need not be shackled by the sins of history."

Nymeria chuckled, a sound both amused and calculating. "You’re quite practiced at saying such words of wisdom. Even during the conference, you spoke so highly of the emotions of those who lost everything to the war. Is your sister the one who teaches you such things?"

Rune’s eyes softened briefly. "My family and my connections teach me," he corrected.

She watched him, expression unreadable. Then, suddenly, she asked, "Are you truly willing to marry my daughter?"

Rune didn’t hesitate. "Yes, Your Grace."

There was something in the way he said it—earnest, unwavering—that made me smile.

Nymeria seemed to sense it too. But she wasn’t finished.

"And what if your family does not accept her?"

Rune smiled again, undeterred. "My family does not judge based on politics or social standing, Your Grace. It is because of them that I learned to see people as individuals, not as titles or alliances. I respect people for who they are, and I will extend that same respect to Lady Celestia."

For the first time, Nymeria fell silent. Rune, however, continued, placing his hand over his heart.

"I will cherish Lady Celestia as much as I cherish my sister, and I assure you that my family will never make her feel unwelcome." freewebnσvel.cøm

The Duchess’s gaze flickered, as if something in her thoughts had shifted.

Then she asked, "And what if I do not wish for my daughter to marry you?"

Rune stilled. I saw the color subtly drain from his face.

"It is your decision as a mother, Your Grace," he said quietly. "And I shall not resist. But I will do everything in my power to prove myself worthy of Lady Celestia’s hand."

[Giver of Gifts prays that your brother will marry the lady he loves.]

I smiled faintly at that, but my expression hardened as Nymeria’s gaze turned almost predatory. She was not convinced.

"Then," she said, her voice smooth, "what if I ask you to stay here and take over the title of Duke of Livelstone after marrying my daughter?"

My jaw clenched.

"Pardon?" Rune frowned, his composure momentarily slipping.

"I am asking you to leave your family, your kingdom, and come live with me and my daughter—to take over my title as Duke," she repeated.

Silence fell. A bitter, cutting silence. I could feel the frost forming beneath Rune’s feet, creeping across the carpet in delicate, crystalline veins.

"I see," Rune murmured at last, his voice quieter now. "Then, Your Grace, you are already convinced that I am not suited for Lady Celestia."

Nymeria tilted her head slightly. "What?"

Rune finally looked at her, and the warmth he so often carried faded from his gaze.

"I love my family more than anything in this world, Your Grace," he said. "If Lady Celestia were to marry me, I would cherish her just as deeply. I would dedicate my life to ensuring her happiness, shielding her from sorrow." His tone, though respectful, carried a finality that even Nymeria couldn’t ignore. "But if you are so determined to separate me from my family to prove my unworthiness, then I have no choice."

He stood, his decision clear.

"I accept your rejection, Your Grace."

Thunder cracked violently behind me, as if echoing the storm in my heart. Nymeria turned her head slightly, glancing toward the window where I remained unseen.

I watched her for a moment, memorizing her expression. Then, without another second wasted, I spread my wings and took off into the storm to find my brother.

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