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Now reading: Chapter 412 - 411- Warmth from Return of the Legendary Runesmith, a Action novel by Return of the Legendary Runesmith.

[Raven’s POV:]

I sat in my office, poring over the monthly palace budget, the candlelight flickering across the stacks of parchnt. My quill hovered midair as I debated a particular cut I’d been considering for weeks now—reducing the palace’s expenses to provide a little more funding to the orphanages.

It might sound absurd, but in this capital, there were more orphanages than hos. A truth that still made my chest tighten every ti I thought about it.

People here rarely lived past thirty. So collapsed under the weight of endless labor, while others... ended things themselves, unable to bear it any longer.

The death rate had dropped in recent years, yes—but it was still far from what anyone would call *normal*. This world was far from healthy.

People here needed hope. Desperately so. And for the first ti in many years, there was a faint glimr of it.

Because he appeared.

My dear would bring change to this world—change that might finally lift the curse binding us to this endless struggle.

So might call foolish for believing in another person’s words. After all, we’d seen it before—countless leaders and visionaries promising to rebuild the world, only to crumble and vanish before delivering a single miracle. It was as though the gods themselves refused to let this land heal.

But not this ti.

I trust Adrian above all else.

I’ve seen what he’s capable of—both in this life and the one before. He is no ordinary man; he’s a creator with hands that could shape fate itself. A being capable of turning the tide of war singlehandedly.

And I trust him blindly. I know he will do sothing for us.

"Still trying to trim the budget?"

The voice snapped out of my thoughts. I looked up to see Isabelle standing by the doorway, her familiar grin tugging at her lips.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair as she approached and peered at the docunts scattered across my desk.

With her, I never needed to pretend. Issabelle wasn’t just a friend—she was more like the sister I never had. We’d grown up together, survived together, and she’d seen every version of —the proud, the broken, and the hopeless.

So, I didn’t hesitate before saying with a weak smile, "Well, maybe I can skip a al or two to save so grains?"

Issabelle gave a sharp look, her hands resting on her hips. "You already eat once a day. What’s next—starving yourself to death so the rest of us can follow you to the heavens?"

I let out a soft laugh, though it lacked any real joy. "Heavens? You really think they’d let us anywhere near that place after death?"

My eyes drifted to the window, to the world cloaked in eternal dusk beyond the glass. The faint outlines of the city stretched under the black sky, lifeless and still.

The darkness felt suffocating—like we’d been abandoned, cornered, and left to survive for as long as we could. A forgotten people in a forgotten world.

"Querella... you’re already doing everything you can for our people," Issabelle said softly, her voice steady but filled with warmth. "I’ve seen it myself—how you put everyone else’s safety and survival before your own. But at least, in return, let yourself eat three als a day and rest properly. If you break down, the pillar of hope holding this nation together will fall before it can bring them the happiness they’ve been waiting for."

Her words made smile faintly. Right... the pillar of hope.

But deep inside, a quiet doubt stirred.

Was I truly what they needed?

I had ruled this nation for over a decade, yet when I looked at the numbers, the conditions, the lives outside these walls... I couldn’t say I had changed much. The darkness still lood. The hunger hadn’t disappeared. The air still felt heavy with despair.

And then there was him—Adrian.

He had only been here for a few hours, and yet, he had already seen through the core of our suffering. In that short span, he ca up with ideas that could push our world forward by centuries. His mind worked in ways I could never imitate.

He wasn’t just intelligent—he was visionary. A man who could *see* the threads of the world and weave them into sothing new.

Compared to him, what was I? Just a woman with a heart full of good intentions but no true power to change the tides. Perhaps I was never ant to be a queen—just soone who wished she could help.

My thoughts tangled in silence, until a familiar voice broke through them.

"What’s with that sad look on your face?"

My breath caught. That voice didn’t belong to Isabelle.

I turned, my heart suddenly racing.

And there he was—the man who had never truly left my thoughts.

The man I had just been thinking of.

The one who could create miracles where others only saw despair.

The man I admired... and adored.

"Adrian..." I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.

He smiled softly, that calm, gentle smile of his that always seed to lt the tension in my chest.

As he stepped closer, I rose from my seat—almost without thinking. I didn’t know what ca over . Maybe it was the weight of all the emotions I’d been holding back, or maybe it was the sudden rush of joy at seeing him when I hadn’t even known he’d arrived.

Before I could stop myself, I moved forward and wrapped my arms around him.

"Woah..." he murmured in surprise, his voice warm against my ear.

But I didn’t care. In that mont, I only wanted to feel him—to remind myself that he was real, that he was here.

I pressed my face against his chest, closing my eyes as I breathed in the faint, familiar scent of tal and earth that always lingered around him. His warmth seeped into , quieting the ache that had long lived in my heart.

He was like an oasis to a wanderer lost in the desert.

A shore to a sailor who had drifted too long at sea.

A long-awaited relief to a heart that had forgotten what peace felt like.

Sowhere behind , I heard the soft click of a door—Issabelle leaving, perhaps to give us privacy.

The sound pulled back to reality, but even then... I couldn’t bring myself to let go. My hands trembled slightly as I held on, torn between guilt and longing.

I knew I was overstepping. I knew I was taking advantage of his kindness. To him, I was probably no more than an acquaintance—soone he respected, perhaps, but not soone he should be holding like this.

And yet... I couldn’t let go. Not when he was right here. Not when this fleeting warmth felt like salvation.

Then, just as my heart began to ache with sha, I felt his hand rest gently on my back. His fingers moved in a slow, reassuring motion, and his voice ca low and soft, almost like a whisper ant only for .

"You’ve been working hard. Good job, Querella."

He said my na.

My breath caught, and sothing inside broke—beautifully, painfully.

Ah... I’ve never felt this good hearing my own na.

I wanted to hear more. For him to praise more. So I did what I never do in front of anyone

I complained, "I...haven’t been able to sleep...things aren’t looking well. One of the plantations was nearly destroyed...I don’t know what I should do."

He looked at with concern and warmth before he assured , "Everything will be fine. Let see what the situation is and then we can decide what to do."

For a mont, I wanted to hug him again and whine like a woman needing to be coaxed. But then, I held back.

Forcing things might put him in a difficult position so I stepped back and said, "I will show you later. First sit down."

I gestured towards the chair nearby and chose to sit near him rather than my usual seat on the other side of the desk.

When we sat and now that my mind was a little calr, I said, "You have trimd your hair?"

Adrian blinked in surprise, "You noticed?" He ran his hand through his hair, before adding, "Even Annabelle didn’t notice anything."

I smiled, "Maybe because she is always around you that she misses small details."

But I don’t. Because every ti I see you, I carve your image in my head.

Naturally, I refrained from saying that. It was better for Adrian to be unaware of that side of mine which he once adored.

"Well, it’s nothing special. Tell about you? How is life?"

I shrugged, "A little lonely without you."

He chuckled, well, naturally, he didn’t take that seriously since I said it that way.

We chatted for a few minutes before he said, "Why don’t you show the plantations? Maybe I can help repair it?"

°°°°°°°°

A/N:- Thanks for reading.

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