The Kingmaker System-Chapter 456 - 455. Liar (5)

"So... will you tell me now why Prince Davian is keeping an eye on this estate, Reina?" Silas asked, his voice casual but his gaze sharp as ever.

I sighed, unsurprised that he sensed Davian lurking around.

"I’ve never asked him to do that. I don’t even know why he’s here," I lied smoothly.

I couldn’t possibly tell my family that the future Grand Duke was stalking me—or worse, that he was in love with me. That kind of revelation wouldn’t just stir trouble... it would start an all-out armageddon.

I didn’t entertain the topic further and instead turned on my heel toward the mansion.

"Please come inside," I said, my tone more serious. "There’s something important we need to discuss."

Silas didn’t press further, simply falling in step behind me.

We walked in silence all the way to the library. Tobias met us there with a quiet bow, serving tea and refreshments before I gestured for privacy. Once the door closed behind him, we sat opposite one another—just like old times—at the familiar chess table near the tall bookshelves away from the windows.

The pieces were arranged. The game began.

For several minutes, neither of us spoke. The soft click of porcelain cups and the steady sounds of chess pieces being moved filled the air.

Silas finally broke the silence with a sigh. "What is this about?"

I moved my rook forward with a slight clack. "I’m afraid Aunt Alys can’t completely cut ties with her family."

Silas frowned, intercepting my rook with his pawn.

"That’s not her family—we are," he said, voice firm with conviction.

I gave a quiet hum of agreement, even as I considered my next move. "Then let’s say... her uncle won’t let her go so easily. He sent me another letter—this time asking for her whereabouts and inquiring about Grandfather’s decision to marry her to you."

Silas’s frown deepened as I captured his knight.

"What should I reply?" I asked, looking up.

"You can’t expect her wounds to heal so quickly, Reina," he said with a heavy sigh. "She doesn’t even want to hear the words ’royal family’ or ’politics.’"

"Too bad," I said, capturing his second knight with a practiced hand. "Sometimes the things we run from the most... keep chasing us until we’re forced to face them."

He leaned back slightly, massaging his temples. "She won’t listen to me, Reina."

"Then should I speak to her instead?" I offered, watching him carefully.

Silas looked tired—tired in the way someone does when they’ve run out of patience, not out of care. He didn’t answer.

I turned my attention back to the board, eyes drifting to the white queen standing tall among the remaining pieces. A thought struck me.

There was someone I could involve.

"I’ll get someone to help," I murmured, plucking the queen from the board and setting her down at a new position with a quiet click.

Silas looked up, narrowing his eyes. "Who?"

"I’ll speak to them first," I replied. "After I talk to Aunt Alys. Once things are in place, I’ll tell you the plan."

He eyed me with suspicion. "Why not now?"

"Just because," I said, capturing his queen with a small smile.

"What about the trial of the Princes? Didn’t you say those were going to be after the New Year?" Silas asked, eyes scanning the board.

I hummed thoughtfully. "Yes, but there’s still more to do before that."

With a quiet click, I moved my piece forward and pulled him into a check.

He studied the board briefly, then spoke again, "Have you thought about what kind of tests you’re going to arrange?"

I gave a small nod. "The King has entrusted me with the authority, so I’ll use it well. The people deserve to see what kind of person is going to rule over them."

Silas looked down at the board with a sigh and gently tipped his King forward in resignation.

I leaned back slightly, satisfied with the win.

His tone grew serious as he asked, "Did you find anything about Kai’s kidnapper?"

I shook my head. "The other Dragon child finally woke up, but... he hasn’t spoken a word about what happened that day."

Silas frowned, concern tightening his brow. "And what about Kai? How is he holding up?"

"He’s doing better now," I replied, voice softening. "Having the other Dragon around has helped ease him. They spend most of the day playing together."

Silas raised an eyebrow. "Who exactly is this new Dragon?"

"I don’t know much. He calls himself Sol. But he’s cursed—heavily so."

That made Silas stiffen. "What?"

"It’s a different curse than Kai’s. While Kai was bound by a secrecy spell, Sol’s curse seems to be... a restriction on his mana. Or maybe it’s meant to seal something else entirely."

Silas looked visibly unsettled. "A curse that seals mana? That’s dangerous. How could that even happen?"

I nodded slowly, gathering my thoughts. "There are no visible incantation marks on his body, but when I looked into his mana heart... I saw it. Coiled around it—these black, snake-like chains. His presence is faint, nearly untraceable. If I allowed him to go outside and he happened to encounter a demon... he wouldn’t stand a chance."

"You should’ve told me earlier," Silas said sharply, his tone more protective than scolding.

"I would’ve," I said with a sigh, "but the boy is already cautious. He’s holding back so much—he definitely knows more than he’s letting on. The curse is draining him to the point I have to cast healing spells every day, just to stabilize his mana heart. It’s a wonder he even survived until now."

Silas leaned forward, brows furrowed. "So, what are you planning to do?"

"I’ll wait," I said simply. "He’s skittish. If I pry too much, he’ll run. Kai somehow convinced him to stay using food as leverage, but if I push him, it’s over."

Silas leaned back, shaking his head slowly. "I don’t understand... why are so many Dragons in this era showing up cursed?"

I nodded in agreement. "That’s the question, isn’t it?"

We sat in silence for a while, the chessboard between us left abandoned mid-game. Then, I decided to shift the conversation.

"I’ll be leaving for Denril in ten days," I said casually.

Silas frowned. "What?!"

"Davian... asked me to be his chaperone."

He blinked, staring at me like I’d just said I’d agreed to marry a wild beast.

"He asked Ocean, didn’t he?" he clarified, tone flat.

I nodded. "Yes."

Silas looked like he was processing a math problem that personally offended him. "Why not ask his own parents?"

I shrugged. "They’re busy in Frosthail, apparently. Besides, it’s fine. I’d like to be there anyway... to see Rune and Prince Eric being honoured at the ball."

His brow furrowed deeper. "Are you planning to teleport all the way to Denril? There’s no Magic Gate that far out."

"I’ve made the arrangements," I said with a small, cryptic smile.

Silas sighed and leaned back in his seat, still visibly displeased. After a moment, he asked, "If you’ve already decided, then fine. But... does he know? About Reina and Ocean being the same person?"

"No," I said.

He gave me a long, unreadable look. "Then why was he here today?"

I looked away. "Like I said, I don’t know."

Silas continued to stare, clearly unconvinced, but I didn’t offer anything more. Some things were better left unsaid—for now.

That night, I penned a letter to Damon Lancaster, informing him of my upcoming visit to Denril. Once done, I sealed it and sent it off through a raven.

A week passed quietly after that—until the day of the trial finally arrived.

Marquis Glines still rotted in my dungeon, while the rest of the kingdom, now fully aware of the Eirn Town scandal, hurled harsh criticism at the Esmertia family. The once-revered name was rapidly becoming a mockery. One by one, the pillars of their so-called "great legacy" were crumbling—and frankly, it was satisfying to watch.

I barely had to lift a finger throughout the proceedings. Earl Clive and the mountain of evidence we had gathered left the defense team helpless and desperate. They scrambled to justify the absence of their client—who didn’t even know what was going on beyond the torture chamber.

The court labelled Marquis Glines a coward, a criminal who abandoned his family and his title. His son made a valiant effort to defend their name, but it was a losing battle. In the end, the family was stripped of their titles and possessions, and formally exiled from the kingdom.

Of Marquis Glines’ assets, thirty percent were granted to me as compensation. The rest went to the royal treasury.

Laude stepped forward to testify, revealing the full truth. As a result, he was given a lighter sentence—his noble status revoked, and his life henceforth to be lived as a commoner in Eirn. He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he looked oddly relieved.

Mark, the spy I had placed within the Glines mansion, also testified in detail about the Marquis’ crimes. His testimony sealed the verdict like the final nail in the coffin.

And since Marquis Glines had the audacity to flee the trial, the judge issued a decree: he was to be hunted down and executed on sight by the royal knights.

Well... that was scheduled to happen tonight anyways.

After the trial concluded, I walked over to Earl Clive.

"Good work today as well, Lord Clive," I said.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Laude hesitantly approaching the disgraced Glines family. His steps were slow, uncertain. He must have been feeling the weight of guilt—perhaps because he had been granted clemency while they were being exiled.

"You traitor!" Glines’ daughter, Essa, shouted furiously, her voice cutting through the air like a whip.

"Just a moment," I told Earl Clive, before moving toward the brewing confrontation.

Laude looked visibly shaken, regret clouding his features. Odessa, the matriarch of the Glines family, stepped forward, her expression twisted in anger.

"How dare you show your face here!" John, Glines’ son, snarled.

Odessa raised her hand to strike Laude.

"Even after we took you in and raised you, this is how—"

But before she could finish that sentence or deliver the blow, I reached out and caught her wrist midair.

"You—!"

My gaze turned sharp, colder than frost, as I stared her down.

"Why are you raising your hand at a victim?" I asked, my voice low and dangerous. "If you must blame someone, blame your husband—for daring to cross the wrong person."

Odessa tried to yank her arm back, but I tightened my grip just slightly—enough to make her falter.

"You’ve been stripped of everything. Your title. Your wealth. Your influence. And now your husband has abandoned you. Clinging to your pride will only bring more ruin. I’d advise you to stay quiet and cause no further problems."

I leaned in, my voice dropping to a whisper against her ear.

"And if you do... I can ensure you and your children disappear without a trace. And no one will bother looking for you."

I let go of her wrist. She stumbled back, clutching her arm to her chest, her expression pale and shaken. Her children, barely in their mid-teens, looked up at her with confusion and unease, not fully understanding the gravity of what had just occurred.

She gathered them close, despite their complaints and protests, and led them away.

I turned to find Laude standing still, his gaze distant as he watched them leave.

"I guess... there was never a chance for me to be their family," he murmured.

I placed a hand on his shoulder.

I didn’t say anything. Words wouldn’t help right now. But in time, perhaps, he would come to understand—that what happened today was a necessary severing.

Without looking back, I turned toward the doors.

"Let’s go," I said to Mark and Lord Clive, gesturing for them to follow.

Together, we left the courtroom.

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