Farmboy becomes King with the Lust System Chapter 269 -

"Isn't that him?" one whispered from the stairs, voice trembling with both curiosity and awe.

"The prince's rival," another added, eyes wide as they leaned over the railing for a better look.

"No one expected that commoner to outshine him," a third said, tone a mixture of disbelief and admiration, echoing the murmurs rippling through the crowd.

Sun remained motionless. He stood stiff, dark eyes tracking Jae as the group ascended the steps with their usual collected composure. Every step the boy took appeared measured, deliberate, a display of confidence that captured attention effortlessly. Sun's expression was unchanging, yet the subtle tremor in his jaw muscle revealed the tightly wound tension beneath the surface.

When his gaze finally shifted away, his hands clenched rigidly at his sides, knuckles stark white through the thin fabric of his uniform gloves.

Byun was the first to notice. His grin, which frequently concealed any underlying seriousness, softened into a somber frown. He nudged Tirel lightly, drawing her attention as she adjusted her pace alongside Yuna.

"I'll catch up," he murmured, the words spoken softly, almost casually, yet imbued with purpose.

Tirel raised an eyebrow, her characteristic smirk playful in tone but sharp with understanding. "Going to provoke the prince again?"

"Someone needs to," Byun stated simply, the gravity of his voice contradicting the lightness of his grin. He allowed the group to move onward, maintaining a deliberate yet unhurried pace, angling down the side of the steps toward Sun.

The onlookers began to disperse behind them, a cascade of students conversing, calling Jae's name, offering quick greetings or respectful nods. Some waved; others inclined their heads or spoke excitedly to companions nearby. Tirel chuckled softly at a remark made by one of the junior cadets,

Yuna offered a bashful smile in acknowledgment of a greeting, and Fin theatrically raised his hands, waving as though to greet every cadet he passed. Elise stayed close to Jae's flank, careful not to get swept up in the whirlwind of attention, her serene demeanor anchoring the group amidst the fervent admiration and awe.

Byun approached Sun at the stair's edge, the intervening space filled with the subtle sound of the wind and distant merriment. He offered a relaxed smile, hands tucked into his pockets, aiming for an effortless, almost conversational interaction. "Didn't expect to find you out here so early," he remarked. "Thought you disliked crowds."

Sun's eyes briefly met Byun's, sharp and inscrutable, before refocusing on Jae in the distance. "I came to see what all the fuss was about," he replied, his voice steady and even, yet carrying an understated authority that demanded attention without needing to be loud.

"Yeah," Byun responded casually, his words floating across the short distance separating them. "Our boy certainly makes a stir these days."

No reply came. The silence lingered between them, more prolonged than either seemed to desire, punctuated only by the hum of distant conversation, the soft tread of boots on stone, and the whisper of cloaks in the morning air.

Byun sighed, pushing his hands deeper into his pockets, a gesture both nonchalant and purposeful, as he attempted to loosen the tension in his shoulders. "You've been rather quiet since our return," he observed, his tone gentler but with a pointed undertone, sufficient to capture Sun's focus without disrupting his composed facade.

"I've been occupied," Sun stated flatly, his words curt and precise, though the tightening of his jaw suggested this explanation was far from complete.

"That's not the whole story," Byun countered, his voice gaining firmness, leaving no room for ambiguity. His gaze remained steady on Sun's face, searching for an honest reaction beneath the surface.

Sun's eyes sharply met his, dark and piercing. "What exactly do you expect me to say, Byun?"

"Perhaps the truth," Byun replied, his voice softer now, measured but unwavering. "You're harboring resentment. Towards him. Towards me. Towards everyone, I suppose."

The prince's expression remained impassive, his features a mask of unruffled calm, yet a subtle intensity flickered within his dark eyes, a tension that refused to subside. "You are mistaken," he stated, his voice low but laced with a quiet accusation.

"I am not," Byun asserted, his tone gentler, leaning slightly closer, allowing his words to convey weight without the need for amplification. "You've barely spoken to me since the siege concluded. And do not feign that it is solely a matter of the war."

For a fleeting moment, neither moved, both acutely aware of the space that separated them, the sunlight illuminating the sharp lines of Sun's uniform while casting faint shadows across Byun's face. The breeze shifted, rustling their cloaks, stirring strands of hair, and carrying fragmented sounds of distant conversations from the courtyard below.

With a sharp, strained exhalation that cut through the tense silence, Sun finally spoke. "You picked him," he stated, his voice low and measured, thick with barely suppressed frustration.

Byun blinked, momentarily thrown off balance. "What are you talking about?"

"You picked him," Sun reiterated, his tone unwavering and firm. "You used to stand with me. Then, this… farmboy appears, and suddenly you're sharing laughter with him, fighting by his side, even calling him a friend."

Byun's grin completely disappeared, replaced by a softer, more contemplative expression. He ran a hand through his hair, briefly glancing away as he gathered his thoughts. "Are you serious?" he asked, his voice calm yet tinged with disbelief.

Sun's dark eyes narrowed, glinting sharply like honed steel. "Don't pretend to be surprised," he said, his voice quiet but heavy with the weight of accusation.

Turning back, Byun met Sun's intense gaze, his own eyes steady. "I didn't choose anyone, Sun. We fought together; that's all. He's not your enemy."

"He's not my friend either," Sun retorted sharply, the words slicing through the air with cold precision.

Byun's expression softened further, yet his gaze remained locked with Sun's. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, deliberate tone. "He doesn't need to be. But you and I," he paused, searching for the exact words to bridge the divide between their past and present, "we've weathered too much to start drawing lines now. You can still talk to him. Talk to me. It doesn't have to end up like this."