I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 1288: An Unfamiliar Battleground

King Ruger froze.

It was difficult to believe that this was the same young man he had seen just a day ago—the one who had refused to bow, who had met his gaze without flinching, who had radiated the kind of quiet authority that made even seasoned rulers take notice. And now here he was, politely lowering his head in greeting.

Not that King Ruger had truly expected Northern to bow. He understood, or at least believed he did. As far as such things went, Northern had always regarded him with a certain mannered respect, never outrightly disrespectful despite the obvious gap in their stations.

Seeing him refuse to bow had led the King to one of two conclusions: either the young man was a king in his own right, accustomed to being the one receiving such gestures, or he was deliberately establishing a hierarchy—making clear from the outset that whatever relationship formed between them would not be one of subordination.

After witnessing Northern’s strength firsthand, the King had understood. Or thought he had.

Although, there was only so much a man like him could truly understand. His kingdom was a mountain. Northern’s reach seemed to extend far beyond any horizon he could see.

Besides, how was he to know that a single one of Northern’s subordinates could raze his entire mountain to ash?

But now the King’s attention drifted to the woman standing close to Northern—the one trying, with limited success, to hide the disappointment flickering in her eyes. He couldn’t mistake the way she looked at the young lord, because he was intimately familiar with that particular gaze. He had lived under it twice in his lifetime.

The first had been his mother. The second was this fragile, pale-skinned woman standing at Northern’s side.

He studied the two of them carefully, the way they stood together, the invisible current of familiarity that flowed between them.

’No... they don’t seem like that.’

He quickly ruled out the possibility of them being a couple. More importantly—for his daughter’s sake—they mustn’t be. Which could only mean...

’His mother?’

The Queen’s voice broke through his contemplation, gentle despite the obvious effort it cost her.

”Young Lord. Please, let us step inside.”

King Ruger’s attention snapped back immediately. He offered his arm to his wife, and together they turned back toward the mansion, leading their guests through the entrance hall.

They walked and climbed a spiraling staircase before settling into a vast sitting room decorated in whites and pale jade, the atmosphere serene and carefully curated. Soft light filtered through gauze curtains, lending the space an almost ethereal quality.

The King and Queen took their places in the high-backed chairs at the head of the parlor. Northern and his mother settled onto a two-seater sofa along one wall, while Roma and Prince Rieran occupied seats directly across from them. The arrangement felt deliberate—everyone positioned where they could observe everyone else.

The Queen coughed, a thin, rattling sound. Her throat sounded like shattered glass barely managing to hold itself together.

Her skin was a sickly pale, her eyes sunken deep into their sockets, the amber of her irises dulled to something closer to old brass. And yet she was adorned in white pearl jewelry nonetheless—earrings, a delicate choker, rings that seemed too heavy for her thin fingers. Her smile, when it came, brought with it an elegance and quiet dignity that her devastating illness could not diminish.

She turned that smile toward Northern and spoke slowly, each word carefully measured.

”Young... Lord... did you enjoy... the food?”

Northern smiled politely in return. Beside him, Eisha watched the exchange with visible confusion, her brow creasing slightly.

”Yes, your majesty. The rice was especially interesting. I always knew mountain rice was special, but it was yesterday that I finally understood why.”

The Queen’s smile widened, genuine pleasure breaking through the weariness.

”Oh? Then perhaps I shall speak to my husband about establishing a trade agreement with you. We could supply them to you consistently, wherever you might be, at a discounted price.”

Northern blinked, momentarily taken aback. Even the King looked as though he wanted to caution his wife, his mouth opening slightly before he restrained himself.

The strange part—the almost amusing part—was that Ryugan was in no position to be making such promises. Not if they understood their current predicament. Which meant either the Queen was completely oblivious to their circumstances, or she was saying this despite knowing full well how precarious their situation was.

’Interesting.’ Northern filed the observation away for later examination.

The Queen glanced at her daughter once, twice, her gaze lingering just a moment too long each time. Eisha’s sharp eyes caught every one of those glances, including the satisfied little smile that curved the Queen’s lips afterward.

Eisha saw it all. And she could tell exactly where this was heading.

She cleared her throat.

”Ahem. Of course, given who we are, we would purchase at full price—no discount necessary. Every payment as it should be. I’m certain this isn’t the first time Ryugan has conducted trade with outside organizations. There should be no preferential treatment when it comes to us.”

The Queen’s smile remained, though something flickered behind her eyes.

”And you must be...”

Northern interjected smoothly. ”Oh. This is my mother. Her name is Aureisha.”

King Ruger tilted his head, a look of quiet satisfaction crossing his features—the expression of a man whose earlier deduction had just been confirmed. The Queen, however, looked genuinely surprised. Even Roma’s composure cracked momentarily.

”Your... mother, you say?”

Northern nodded. ”Yes, your majesty.”

”Astonishing.”

Northern acknowledged her response with another nod, then let his gaze drift deliberately toward the King, communicating something without words.

There was a reason this meeting had been arranged, and he didn’t appreciate the way the conversation kept drifting toward matters that had nothing to do with it. Pleasantries were fine. Strategic matchmaking attempts were less so.

The King received the message clearly. He cleared his throat.

”Ahem. Darling, remember what I spoke to you about yesterday.”

The Queen looked at her husband, her expression blank for a moment as she searched her memory. A second later, recognition surfaced.

”Ah, yes, that. But I feel quite good today, honey.”

”No, darling. You don’t feel good. Not yet.” The King’s voice softened with something that went beyond mere concern. ”Let him check. Please?”

”But honey...”

Northern watched the exchange in silence, something uncomfortable twisting in his chest.

’Is this what it looks like? People who are helplessly in love with each other?’

The thought arrived unbidden, and with it came a follow-up question he wasn’t sure he wanted to answer.

’Have I ever been like this?’

He wouldn’t remember. Most of the circumstances surrounding his heartbreak had become hazy, indistinct—memories his mind had apparently decided were too dangerous to preserve in full clarity. In fact, Northern had long concluded that his brain had intentionally suppressed those memories. A defense mechanism. The only way to erase pain that would have otherwise crippled him during the early years of his childhood.

How else could he have accepted the values that Shin and Eisha had taught him so completely, if he hadn’t forgotten whatever came before?

The Queen finally relented, and the King assisted her to her feet, one arm wrapped carefully around her waist as he escorted her toward her chambers.

Roma and Prince Rieran followed close behind. After a few minutes, Roma returned alone, her posture rigid. She came close to performing a deep bow toward Northern’s mother before catching herself—though she still wouldn’t meet Eisha’s gaze, her eyes fixed firmly on a point somewhere past her shoulder.

”She’s ready. You can examine her now.”

She directed the words at Northern, then turned to lead them down the corridor, still carefully avoiding any eye contact with his mother as she escorted them both to the Queen’s room.