Reborn As Noble

His gaze swept across the nobles, lingering just long enough on each marquis and baron to remind them of their place and their vote.

Inside his mind, Kimar’s thoughts roared with triumph.

Yes... exactly this. Thank you, Garius. You have opened the door. Let them vote. And when they do, they will choose me. The throne will be mine.

Yet outwardly, his face remained serene, his tone almost generous.

”A vote,” he concluded smoothly, ”to settle this matter once and for all, without quarrel, without doubt. Is that not the fairest course?”

Garius’s expression remained composed, his posture unbroken, elbow on the armrest, fingers resting lightly against his chin, eyes steady on Kimar.

But beneath that calm mask, his thoughts churned darkly.

This wolf in human skin...

He’s been preparing this long before we even stepped into this hall. Every word, every nod, every whispered promise, he’s weaving a net and calling it law. I’ve seen the signs, felt the current shifting.

He’s studied my moves, learned my counters, and now he’s driving the game toward the one battlefield where even my hand is forced.

The Royal Law... the one weapon that binds us all.

No matter how careful my planning, it always returns to the same thing.

The law.

A cage no blade can cut, no wealth can buy.

And he will use it soon, his trump card.

The move that binds every voice in this chamber, stripping away every counter before it can be spoken.

He’s a snake wrapped in velvet, but make no mistake, he’s already baring his fangs.

Just because he carries royal blood.

Just because he hides behind the name of my fallen friend.

This filthy wolf in human skin.

The only thing I must do... is save the princess.

He knew the shape of Kimar’s hand already. The law was his battlefield, the council his weapon. He would summon precedent like a chain, bind the hesitant through ”tradition,” and cloak ambition in the guise of order. The man wore patience like armor, a polished mask hiding the hunger of a wolf.

Yes... he will gain most of the votes. That much is certain.

And when he does, he will feign surprise, play the part of a reluctant savior, the one who ”never sought the crown.” The council will insist, voices rising as if it were their idea, their urging, not his design. And in that chorus, my voice, alone, dissenting will be drowned.

But worse than votes was the shadow he could already see looming: marriage.

A union, they will say, is the path to strength. A crown not worn, but tethered by a bride. And if they point toward her... toward Kliatana... the law will make it unbreakable.

If she accepts, the seal will fall, and no counter can undo it.

If she refuses, there lies another clause, another hidden recourse the crown keeps in reserve.

Garius’s knuckles brushed against his cheek.

That moment... will be the hinge.

And until it comes, I can do nothing but wait.

The chamber quieted at once.

Garius rose slightly in his chair, his expression refined and composed, his courtesy sharpened with intent.

”Honorable council members,” he began smoothly, ”pardon my interruption. Yet before we proceed further into this most weighty matter, I must exercise a right afforded by this very body. By the law of the royal council, it is not forbidden for a lord to appoint his heir to sit among us, not as one who votes, but as one who observes, who learns.”

He inclined his head, gaze sweeping the room with steady confidence.

”For what better lesson is there than to see with his own eyes how power is measured, how words are cast, how votes are weighed? If we speak of crowns and burdens, then let the next generation watch closely, that they do not grow ignorant of the very pillars that uphold this kingdom.”

His eyes slid, deliberate but calm, toward the Keeper of Law, the robed figure clutching the heavy tome at the edge of the dais.

”Surely,” Garius said with noble polish, ”such an act is not forbidden within these walls. Am I correct, Keeper?”

The ripple through the nobles was immediate, murmurs rising, brows furrowed, some glancing uneasily at Kimar.

Meanwhile in the back.

Javier’s shoulders stiffened, his eyes widened.

Inside his mind, panic flared.

Crap! The next heir... that means me, right!?

He darted a glance at Liana, who stood calm as ever, though her lips curved with the faintest, amused smile. She’d already guessed, already expected this.

From the corner of his eye, Javier saw Marcellus lean back slightly, whispering just loud enough for him to catch.

”Little brother~ seems Father has decided your seat for you.”

Cedric chuckled, voice low and teasing.

”Careful not to trip on the way up, Javier. It would be... unbecoming of an heir.”

Javier gritted his teeth, forcing a polite smile on his face, but inside his thoughts were a storm.

The Keeper of the Royal Law rose with measured dignity, the great tome cradled in his arms. His voice, calm and solemn, carried across the chamber with the weight of centuries behind it.

”By decree of the council charter and precedence of our forebears, the right of a lord to seat his appointed heir within these halls is not forbidden. The purpose is learning, not deliberation. The heir may observe, may witness, but shall not yet cast a vote.”

He inclined his head toward where Garius sat, then gestured with an open palm toward the space at his side.

”The seat beside Count Garius remains unclaimed. By the law of this council, it may be given to the heir he names, to sit under his shadow and learn the burden of rule. Such is custom, and such is permitted.”

A murmur rippled through the chamber, curiosity, unease, even envy, yet no one dared dispute the Keeper’s words.

Garius’s voice carried with calm authority, each word steady and deliberate.

”Then, with the permission of this honorable council, as the Keeper himself has explained, I shall appoint my next heir to sit at my side. Not to cast a vote, nor to sway this chamber, but to observe. To learn. To understand the weight of this council, the manner of its deliberations, and most importantly, the gravity of its votes. For one day, when my voice falls silent, his must rise with knowledge, not ignorance.”

All eyes in the chamber fixed on Garius as his words sank in. Many of the nobles leaned forward, their expressions sharpened with anticipation. Whispers stirred, surely he would call Marcellus, the famed strongest wizard in the kingdom. Or perhaps Cedric, the unrivaled paladin.

( End Of Chapter )