Reborn As Noble

Chapter 827: The Crown and the Snare ( 827 )

Javier exhaled slowly, his cheek pressed against his knuckles.

Ugh… why does Father even bother? He knew this would happen. He always knows. And yet, here we are, dancing in a play where the ending’s already written.

Hmm?

No.

If it’s Father, then there’s something else. He wouldn’t waste his breath unless there was another plan.

The Keeper of Royal Law rose, his tone solemn, each word heavy with ritual dignity.

“By the binding decree of this council, the votes are cast and sealed. Of thirty-eight voices present, the tally stands as follows: one vote in favor of Princess Kliatana, one abstained, and thirty-six in favor of His Grace, Duke Kimar.”

The chamber stirred, whispers rippling like wind through tall grass. All eyes turned toward Kimar.

The duke pressed a hand to his chest, lowering his head in practiced humility, though the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth betrayed him.

“Unanimous? Truly?” His voice carried soft astonishment, a performance tailored for every ear. “My lords, I… I am humbled. I never sought such honor. Surely among you there are others more fit, more deserving…”

His words trailed with false modesty, and the first voices rose to fill the gap.

“None stand closer in blood than you, Your Grace.”

“Brother to our late king, who else bears such rightful claim?”

“Your wisdom, your steadiness,these are what the kingdom needs.”

“Experience, lineage, and strength. Who else but you?”

Kimar pressed a hand lightly to his chest, his head bowed just enough to give the impression of reluctance. His voice carried that soft, trembling humility nobles used when pretending to refuse what they craved most.

“I am but a humble servant of the realm. To bear the weight of a crown is no small matter. I hesitate, for I fear I may not be worthy…”

The chamber rose in response.

“Your Grace, the vote was near unanimous, this is the will of the council!”

“Who else bears such standing? Such blood? The law itself favors you.”

“Your wisdom has guided many. It is only right you guide the kingdom now.”

Their voices overlapped, a wave of pressure and praise building upon itself until Kimar finally let the hesitation fall from his tone. He raised his head, lips curving into a carefully measured smile.

“…If you all insist so strongly,” he said, voice ringing with noble gravity, “then I cannot deny your will. I shall accept the crown. Not for myself, but for the kingdom, and its people.”

Applause and murmurs of approval rippled across the hall, feeding his pride.

Then, slowly, Kimar turned his gaze toward Garius, his smirk hidden just beneath the veil of courtesy.

“The council has spoken, Count Garius. Surely, with such a verdict before us, you have no objection left to raise? No reason to doubt the law, nor the will of this chamber. After all, what is nobility, if not obedience to both?”

Garius chuckled softly, elbow propped on the armrest, cheek resting against his knuckle. His smirk was faint, but it carried enough weight to ripple unease across those sharp enough to notice.

“Yes~ the council has spoken,” he said, his tone smooth and unhurried. “Good for you, Your Grace.”

Kimar’s smirk widened at the words, as if savoring the taste of victory. He turned toward Princess Kliatana. His eyes gleamed with the polished courtesy of a man playing his final card. Rising partway from his seat, he offered her a shallow, almost reverent bow.

“But do not worry, Your Royal Highness,” he said warmly, his voice carrying a noble gravity that masked the blade beneath. “Though the council has placed the crown upon me, the future of this kingdom does not rest upon one man alone. The crown may yet be shared with you, its rightful blood, so that stability and unity may endure.”

He paused, letting the silence draw every noble ear closer, his words deliberate and slow.

“A union between us, your lineage joined with mine, would secure not only the throne but the realm itself. Through marriage, Your Highness, we can preserve the royal line, shield the kingdom from division, and ensure the people see one united face at its helm.”

His hand spread gently, as though offering peace, but his smirk lingered just enough to betray the ambition glinting beneath his noble facade.

“Surely, this is the most prudent path forward. For the kingdom. For the council, for you.”

The hall erupted in murmurs and claps, nobles cheering Duke Kimar’s “noble” proposal as though it were salvation itself. Princess Kliatana sat stiffly, her graceful composure marred by a fleeting crack of unease. The smile she’d worn earlier faltered, her hands tightening in her lap.

Then..

THUD!!!!

A single knock of knuckles struck the council table. Not loud, not violent, but sharp enough to cut through the noise like a blade through silk.

All eyes turned.

Count Garius sat where he was, elbow on the armrest, cheek against his knuckle, the faintest curl of a smirk tugging at his lips. His gaze was calm, but the weight behind it pressed heavier than any raised voice.

The cheer faltered. Some nobles shifted in their seats, others exchanged knowing smirks. After all, the vote had already been cast, the law sealed. To them, Garius’s silence, his knock, was little more than the protest of a man cornered.

“Does he forget the law binds even him?” one whispered.

“Still clinging to pride,” another muttered with a smug grin.

Their expressions carried the arrogance of victors, mocking without words. In their eyes, he was already the defiant relic.

Garius turned his gaze toward the Keeper of the Royal Law, his cheek still resting on his knuckle, a calm smirk tugging faintly at the corner of his lips.

“Yes… since our Grace, Duke Kimar, was born of royal blood, and the vote of this council was given to him without dissent, I hold no quarrel with who now wears the crown. The law is clear, and I respect it. But—”

“—the proposal of marriage. Surely, honorable members, you recall she has only just reached the age deemed marriageable for a noble maiden of royal line. By law, yes… yet law alone does not measure readiness of heart, nor the burden such a bond would demand.”

Princess Kliatana shifted uncomfortably, her composure tested by the weight of his words, though her chin remained lifted, the faintest tightness betraying her unease.

From across the chamber, one of the marquises gave a dry chuckle, his voice cutting through with mocking courtesy.

“Count Garius speaks as though the law bends for sentiment. Has it not always been so, that royal daughters secure alliances through marriage? Was it not the law itself that sanctified such unions? If the council decrees it, who among us may protest?”

Another noble joined in, lips curling in disdain.

“Indeed. To question such a match is to question the very precedent of our kingdom. Royal blood binds royal duty. The princess is of age, the duke of station, what more is required?”

A ripple of agreement moved through the chamber, nobles smirking and nodding, their voices echoing mock approval, every word aimed at Garius.

( End Of Chapter )

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