Gunmage
Chapter 158: Secrets in bloom

Chapter 158: Chapter 158: Secrets in bloom

"Wait! Lugh."

He paused, eyes narrowing slightly, waiting for her to speak.

"Do you hate me?"

She finally asked. Her voice was low, almost a whisper.

"...Not anymore"

He responded after a long breath.

"Okay, good. Now that that’s out of the way—what the hell were you thinking?!"

"Huh?"

"Family head? Thieves? Why did you have to do all that? What do you even need the position for?"

"Ah, that..."

He looked away, his expression unreadable.

"I can’t tell you the reason."

There was a reason. A goal, too vast to explain in one conversation. He couldn’t just let go of the resources, archives, and reach that an ancient house like Von Heim commanded.

As fate would have it, he was the only male heir of the main bloodline. A cruel gift from the heavens, but a gift nonetheless. Not using that to his advantage would have been foolish.

Still, laying claim to the title didn’t make it his. The family had risen in unison against him. They were all resentful, suspicious, or just unwilling to yield. He had a war to wage on every front.

But one thing at a time.

For now, his focus was the Jade Tower. Its name had appeared too many times, as whispers and as threats.

He needed to learn more about their structure, their enforcers, and what this so-called Selection truly entailed before he decided if it was worth stepping into.

Then there was the underground chamber. Sealed, hidden and brimming with implications. Selaphiel might know more, and he intended to ask.

And finally... the Beast Crowned in Glass. A name that made his stomach twist. He didn’t know what it meant yet, but he was sure it related to the entity that had granted him the Mawglass.

Whatever that thing was, it operated far above mortal understanding. The Church might know more, but after witnessing the true form of High Cardinal Draque’sill, he wasn’t so keen on going there.

In fact, he was scared. The Church terrified him now.

Then there was Edrin. A spy, planted by the same bloody Church. That alone could unravel everything if handled poorly.

On top of that, the Canines had ties to the magical civilizations, and now that he’d crossed them, he was probably already marked.

Assassins would come next. Some sent by Von Heim relatives nursing their wounded pride. Others from guests at the ball who now viewed him as a threat.

He hadn’t even solved his current problems before new ones bloomed.

Still, opportunity and danger often shared the same mask. If he could capture one or two of these would-be killers alive, he might glean precious knowledge, skills, tactics and information.

Then there was Lyra.

Representatives from the Cross family had attended the ball, but she wasn’t among them. Not surprising, given she’d been all but disowned.

Still, he wished she had come. He wanted to check on her condition, make sure she hadn’t suffered lasting damage from Drakensmar. Mutations, injuries, psychological scars, anything.

He also needed to plan what came next, especially with Xhi having vanished without explanation.

His thoughts spun wildly as he walked through the stone-lined halls, footsteps echoing off gilded walls.

Then, suddenly—he bumped into someone.

The first thing that caught his attention was the flaxen hair.

"Hmmm, you are—"

Later that night...

Under the cool shimmer of moonlight, a figure glided silently through the secluded outer reaches of the Von Heim gardens.

Silver mist kissed the edges of the well-manicured hedges, and dew glistened like pearls on dark leaves.

The woman had removed her veil, revealing pointed ears adorned with golden cuffs. Small embedded gemstones caught the moonlight, twinkling with each movement.

A single long earring dangled from her right ear, brushing against her collarbone.

Gone was the extravagant court dress from earlier.

Now she wore a plain white tunic that clung softly to her form, cinched at the waist with a silver belt.

Golden threads were embroidered across the fabric in swirling, geometric designs, veins of sunlight trapped in cloth.

Actually, the tunic wasn’t plain, not really. It was a quiet kind of regality.

She approached a stone bench, already occupied by a woman dressed in black. A midnight veil still covered her face, but her bearing was unmistakable.

The Queen.

Hidden in the foliage and high terraces, royal guards observed the meeting.

"Discreet" would be too generous a word for their presence. It was more deterrence than concealment. Selaphiel could sense them. They knew she could. That was the point.

Finding nowhere to sit, Selaphiel raised her hand lazily. At her silent command, the grass at her feet stirred. Vines curled upward, buds bursting into rapid bloom as stalks thickened and twisted together.

Within seconds, they formed an elegant seat, woven branches braced with flowering arms, soft petals blooming along the arching backrest. It looked natural and deliberate, as if it had always grown that way.

She sat with a small sigh.

The Queen glanced at her with hidden curiosity.

"That must have cost a lot of mana."

"It did"

Selaphiel admitted.

A pause.

"...I was trying to look cool."

That drew a smile, small, but genuine.

The tension thinned slightly. With the opening created, Selaphiel took the chance to speak.

"For you to call me out here... I’m sure something’s on your mind. Is there anything Your Highness needs?"

"Why yes, obviously."

The Queen’s tone was amused, but her posture was anything but casual.

"Two reasons, actually. I’m sure we are both thinking about the first."

"Humor me."

"...Lugh Von Heim."

Selaphiel pursed her lips. A faint shift in her posture betrayed her discomfort.

"What about him?"

The Queen tilted her head, gaze lingering on the moon above the treetops before speaking.

"How much do you know about him?"

"Honestly? Not much. I just got back, and his existence has always been kept hidden—even from me. I hadn’t seen his face until just recently."

"That’s what’s bothering me"

The Queen said, her voice quieter now.

"Why was he kept so hidden?"

"Ah."

Selaphiel clicked her tongue thoughtfully.

"You think there’s something special about him?"

The Queen didn’t speak, she just nodded.

"It’s just a regular scandal"

Selaphiel offered.

"You know how these humans are, always fussing over little things. There wasn’t really anything special about the boy himself."

Then her expression shifted. The playful light in her eyes vanished, replaced by something far colder.

"Or at least... there wasn’t."