The Kingmaker System
Chapter 483 - 482. Spinning Lies Is My Second Nature (1)

Chapter 483: 482. Spinning Lies Is My Second Nature (1)

The next morning, Ocean was lounging on a plush velvet chaise in his room, legs sprawled comfortably over the length of the chaise, a dreamy silence hanging in the air. Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows, casting warm golden patterns across the marble floor. Seated nearby on an embroidered cushion was little Sol, his legs crossed and a large book open in his lap, though his wide golden eyes kept drifting back to Ocean every now and then.

"Here," Miri said with a teasing smile, holding up a glistening green grape between her fingers. She leaned in slightly, offering it to Ocean with the gentleness of someone far too used to spoiling him.

Ocean, without glancing up, parted his lips obediently and accepted the grape. He chewed lazily, reclining further into the cushions like a pampered cat.

Across the room, Davian let out a long yawn, stretching his arms above his head until his joints popped. He looked mildly disgruntled, as if waking early wasn’t part of his skill set.

Meanwhile, Arian stood by the long table, fingers gliding over the surface of the communication device with focused precision. His eyes orange, so unlike Sol’s in temperament, flicked once toward Ocean in quiet disapproval.

The three had shown up at dawn—unannounced, as usual—after Ocean failed to appear at the grand evening ball the night before.

Not that it surprised anyone.

"It was a drinking party," Ocean had said flatly earlier, "Why would I go?"

And honestly, none of them could argue with that.

Since they had already eaten breakfast and had nothing particularly pressing to do, the atmosphere in Ocean’s room was languid and lazy. Miri had taken it upon herself to continue doting on Ocean, now feeding him neatly sliced fruit as he lay draped across the couch with a mound of soft cushions supporting his head and neck.

Davian lounged nearby, legs stretched out and arms crossed behind his head, looking every bit as relaxed as he was bored. Arian, on the other hand, was anything but idle. He stood near the far table, his fingers nimbly gliding over one of the magic communication devices set out earlier, inspecting it with quiet curiosity.

"Is this really capable of connecting you to your people in Sestia?" Arian asked, eyes narrowed in analysis.

Ocean, eyes closed and voice slow with sleepiness, hummed in affirmation.

Arian then reached toward another object. "And what’s this?" he asked, lifting a small polished emblem that shimmered faintly under the light.

Ocean cracked open one eye, saw what it was, and closed it again with a lazy sigh. "That’s my family’s crest."

"What does it do?" Arian’s hawk-like gaze sharpened, inspecting the piece of jewelry as though it might suddenly spring to life or reveal a hidden mechanism.

"It commands my people," Ocean replied, his tone as disinterested as the wind brushing through leaves. "And proves who I am."

Arian gave a thoughtful hum. "So it carries quite a bit of power, then."

Davian let out a dry snort. "It’s just a symbol, not a magic device."

Arian rolled his eyes without looking away from the crest. "It’s emanating magic. There’s definitely a spell embedded in it."

At that, Davian turned his head toward the couch. "Master, is your crest also a magic device?"

Ocean opened his eyes halfway, then shrugged lazily. "It’s enchanted—for imposters. If anyone ever tries to claim it as their own, it’ll explode in their hands."

Davian raised his brows, clearly impressed. "Huh. Ruthless."

Arian gave a quiet nod of approval, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly.

Miri, unfazed, held out a slice of freshly cut apple to Ocean, who accepted it without so much as lifting a finger. Nearby, Sol remained absorbed in his book, legs swinging gently as he turned another page, quietly enjoying the serenity around him.

Suddenly, a knock echoed against the wooden door.

The three visitors—Davian, Miri, and Arian—glanced at one another, alert in an instant. In contrast, the original occupants of the room—Ocean and Sol—remained utterly unbothered. Ocean didn’t even open his eyes, while Sol merely paused on a sentence before turning another page.

With a sigh, Davian pushed himself to his feet and strolled to the door. Upon opening it, he found a young maid standing on the other side, clutching a tray with an envelope placed carefully on top. Her eyes widened the moment she saw who had opened the door.

"G-Greetings, Your Highness!" she stammered, immediately lowering herself into a deep bow.

Davian raised a brow but said nothing about the flustered greeting. His gaze fell to the envelope, which he casually picked up from the tray. The seal shimmered slightly under the light.

"Seems like you have a letter, Master," Davian called out over his shoulder.

Ocean cracked one eye open again. "Hm? Who could it be from?" Miri asked, dabbing a napkin gently at Ocean’s lips as he finished chewing another grape.

Arian rose smoothly from his seat and walked toward the door, his mere presence enough to make the maid tremble where she stood. Though it wasn’t the first time she had seen the three powerful guests in this room, it still baffled her—why they would always be here.

Arian plucked the envelope from Davian’s hand and examined the seal, eyes narrowing slightly.

"That’s the seal of the Lockwood Marquessate," he said evenly.

Ocean lazily opened his eyes, turning his head toward the commotion, aqua blue lashes fluttering against his cheek. Sol looked up as well, sensing the shift in mood.

Without lifting so much as his torso, Ocean extended an arm toward Arian in a silent request. Arian didn’t hesitate—he turned and made his way back to the couch, the envelope in hand, with Davian following a step behind.

Ocean took the letter and broke the seal, unfolding the parchment with a practiced ease. The maid, still standing just outside the door, couldn’t help but watch. It felt surreal—three of the most powerful figures from three different kingdoms standing attentively around the Marquis, who hadn’t even bothered to sit up, let alone receive them formally. And yet, none of them seemed to mind. If anything, they were used to it.

Ocean’s eyes skimmed the contents of the letter. As he had predicted, nothing surprising. Sol’s gaze flicked between the paper and Ocean’s unreadable expression, while the other three waited silently.

"I’m invited for lunch at the Lockwood mansion," Ocean announced, letting the letter fall lightly against his chest.

Davian raised an eyebrow. "Why would they invite you?"

"Can we go too?" Miri asked, her tone bright with curiosity.

"Only you’re invited?" Arian added coolly.

Ocean shifted slightly against the cushions, cradled in comfort as always. "No. Sol and I are invited."

That made the three exchange subtle glances, a flicker of something passing between them—surprise, calculation, perhaps even mild concern.

Without looking toward the door, Ocean spoke again, stifling a yawn behind the back of his hand. "Tell the maid to send a reply. We’ll be there."

"Since when are you close to the Lockwood family?" Arian asked, still eyeing the envelope.

"Since they started believing I’m Saintess Mirielle’s brother," Ocean replied lazily, eyes already drifting shut again.

A heavy pause filled the room.

Then—

"Wait, what?" Arian snapped, his voice cracking the silence like a whip.

Ocean gave a soft hum in response, unbothered.

Arian’s face underwent a transformation that could only be described as catastrophic—first green, then red, then deathly pale. "Are you... her brother?"

"Nope," Ocean replied with complete ease.

"Then why would they think that you are?!"

"Because I told them."

Arian nearly choked. "And why would you say that?!"

Ocean finally cracked one eye open, a slight upward tug at the corner of his lips. "Because I ended up lying the last time I met them."

Miri, unfazed by the conversation, calmly lifted another slice of apple to Ocean’s mouth, which he accepted mid-sentence without missing a beat.

"And what exactly did you lie about?" Arian demanded.

Ocean gave a soft hum of thought before replying. "It’s a long story, but the lie goes something like this: Ace D’Arc is Mirielle’s husband, they have a son named Kai, and Ocean Ryujin is Mirielle’s distant cousin and Ace’s business partner."

Silence thundered.

Arian looked like he’d been struck. Davian’s mouth parted slightly, trying to make sense of the madness. Miri just kept feeding Ocean, clearly desensitized to the Marquis’ reckless flair for fiction.

"Why would you make up such an elaborate lie, Master?" Davian asked finally.

"Need of the moment," Ocean replied breezily.

"And how are you planning to untangle that web?" Arian chided, arms crossed now, golden eyes sharp with frustration. "You do realize you’re one of the most important figures in Sestia, right? You can’t just go spinning tales like a drunk bard at a tavern!"

Ocean yawned, voice muffled by a pillow. "It’s fine. Once we return to Sestia, I’ll send a letter to the Marquis saying Mirielle passed away. I’ll take custody of Kai as his godfather and uncle."

Arian’s jaw all but hit the floor. He stared, stunned into silence.

Saintess Mirielle wasn’t just a popular figure—she was revered. Her name was still whispered in prayers across Denril. Idols of her and the Water Dragon still sat in shrines across the people’s homes. And yet, Ocean Ryujin had casually decided to declare her dead—for convenience.

"How... how could you..." Arian sputtered, the weight of disbelief pressing down on him.

Sol, too, was taken aback. But he recovered faster than the others. After all, he had witnessed Ocean lie with the same effort it took to breathe. This didn’t surprise him—it only confirmed what he already knew.

The room fell quiet again.

And then they noticed—Ocean’s breathing had slowed, deepened. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, his face peaceful.

He had fallen asleep. Right in the middle of their collective confusion.

Of course he had.

Miri turned her gaze away from Ocean’s sleeping form and looked over at Davian.

"Will you come along to the Lockwoods’ lunch?" she asked, her voice light and almost sing-song and Davian simply shrugged.

Their eyes shifted in unison toward Arian, who was still standing stiffly, eyes vacant, clearly reeling from the whirlwind of revelations Ocean had casually dropped like rose petals on water.

Sensing their gaze, Arian blinked back to the present and glanced at them. "What?"

The moment his eyes met theirs, the duo exchanged a glance and smirked—identical, conspiratorial.

Arian narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like that look.

"I’m not—" he began, but one look at their expectant faces told him resistance was pointless.

He sighed, long and low, as if surrendering a part of his soul. "Fine."

With a resigned expression, Arian turned and walked toward the doorway where the maid still stood nervously, unsure whether to leave or remain. She flinched slightly as he approached, then straightened and bowed as Arian gave her calm, clear instructions regarding their attendance.

She nodded rapidly, murmured, "Y-Yes, Your Highness," and bowed deeply once more before scurrying away down the corridor like a startled mouse.

Arian returned to the room, expression neutral, and the moment he stepped in, Davian and Miri rose from their seats.

Sol, still seated on the floor beside the chaise, glanced up. Davian reached out and gave the boy’s golden curls a light tousle. Miri followed, brushing a gentle hand along the top of his head with a fond smile.

Then, the three of them left, their footfalls fading into silence.

Sol looked at Ocean, who remained curled among his mountain of cushions, fast asleep, lips slightly parted and one hand draped limply off the edge.

With a soft sigh that carried both fondness and resignation, Sol returned to his book, flipping the page as if nothing about the last ten minutes had been the slightest bit unusual.

In the afternoon, Ocean was pleasantly shocked to see the three musketeers joining him for lunch at Lockwoods. Crown Prince Arian had arranged it from his side.

Honestly, it seemed as if they were only going to see Ocean spinning some tales again and possibly see if anyone was smart enough to see through the obvious lies or not.