The Song of Flowers - Chapter 1: The Girl Who Never Grew Up (4)

“Wretched girl.”

Stella trembled with indignation. It was clear that she had been set up, left standing here under the pretense of welcoming a guest. She wanted nothing more than to turn back and leave, but without borrowing some jewelry, she would have to attend tonight’s party in a shabby state. That was something she loathed even more than death.

“A guest? Hah. Ridiculous.”

There was no way anyone would visit Adele.

“That monster.”

Adele was a monster, one who never grew, no matter how much time passed. That’s why she stayed hidden, unable to show her face in public.

Deep within Stella’s disdain for Adele lay a deep-rooted sense of inadequacy. Adele had everything Stella ever wanted. She was beautiful, intelligent, and had captured the affection of their aunt.

But what did it matter? Adele would forever remain a child, unable to grow, constantly the subject of gossip. That’s why she stayed in the southern tower, and why their aunt kept her away from society.

As the door opened and someone emerged, Stella flinched. A young man with black hair glanced at her briefly with equally dark eyes, nodding slightly before continuing on his way.

“Calvin!”

Desperate to stop him, Stella called out, but his cold gaze made her shrink. She quickly corrected herself.

“Sir Coe…”

“I have not yet been knighted, so that title is too much,” Calvin replied coolly.

Stella felt her confidence wane. His formal tone created a noticeable distance between them. At parties and gatherings, his stiff speech had always seemed appropriate for formal occasions, but here, in private, it felt harsh. They had once been friends who played together, after all.

But everything had changed after Stella tormented Adele.

She had lost their aunt’s affection, and seeing her parents grovel before their aunt only made Stella realize just how low she had fallen. And Calvin, her first love, had cut ties with her.

To Stella, the punishment had been far too severe for what she’d done.

“You’re… coming to the party tonight, right? The one at the Hall?”

“Yes.”

“Have you… chosen a partner?”

“Yes.”

Stella was flustered. Bringing a partner wasn’t a requirement for tonight’s party. She hadn’t heard any rumors about Calvin dating anyone. If he had said he didn’t have a partner, she would have asked him to escort her.

“Oh… I wonder who it is.”

Calvin gave a slight bow and began to walk away. Panicked, Stella called out again.

“Calvin! Are you still angry with me? Can’t we go back to being friends? We were friends, weren’t we?”

When they were younger, Stella hadn’t realized how prestigious the Coe family was. As she became more involved in high society, she had come to understand how well-regarded Calvin and his friends were in the Eastern aristocratic circles.

In contrast, Stella was just one of the many who admired them from afar. But she didn’t want to remain on the outskirts; she wanted to stand beside Calvin, in the center.

She had always thought of their aunt, Lady Levas, as her greatest asset. When she debuted in society, she expected people to flock to her. But reality had been different.

Lady Levas hadn’t attended her debut at fifteen. Later, Stella heard that Adele had fallen ill, and their aunt had stayed by her side.

To Stella, Adele had ruined her debut. Without their aunt’s presence, Stella’s worth had plummeted.

She believed her unfortunate reality was the reason the heirs of prestigious families like Calvin’s didn’t associate with her.

If Calvin knew her thoughts, he would have laughed. The problem wasn’t that simple. Calvin’s friends were selective about their companions, not because of status or rank, but because of character. Stella fell far short of their standards.

“I’m not angry. I’m disappointed.”

Calvin looked at Stella’s indignant expression, confirming that nothing had changed.

“To you, friendship might be easy and fleeting, but not to me.”

She couldn’t stop Calvin as he walked away, her frustration mounting as she stomped her foot in anger.

“Has he been seeing Adele this whole time?”

Stella had thought that Calvin no longer associated with Adele.

“Why?”

It burned her that Adele had the entire southern tower to herself. But as Stella became more involved in society, her bruised ego had somewhat healed.

She had mocked Adele for being trapped in a large, isolated prison. But now, it seemed she wasn’t as alone as Stella had thought. Not only Calvin, but perhaps many others had been visiting her.

“You’re free to take whatever you like, but you’ll need to let us know when you’ll return it,” Sonya approached Stella and informed her.

Is she too important to even show her face? Bragging over a few necklaces, huh?

Stella’s irritation only grew when she entered Adele’s dressing room. While Stella had begged her mother to buy her one or two dresses, Adele had hundreds. It was only frustrating that she was too small to wear them.

Inside the jewelry box, Stella saw a necklace set adorned with large gems that hadn’t been there the last time. Even to her untrained eye, it was clear they weren’t cheap imitations.

“Why? Why does that girl have everything?”

Stella couldn’t understand it. Everything she believed she deserved was unjustly in Adele’s hands.

 

***

 

The old tavern, famed for its delicious drinks, became as noisy as a market square by dusk, bustling with people. Most were regulars, but occasionally a few strangers would wander in. A man, clearly an outsider, sat with a group of strangers while another local man regaled them with stories, spittle flying as he spoke. His audience was completely absorbed.

At a nearby table, some patrons drinking quietly glanced over at Jack’s group, chuckling.

“Here we go again.”

“Half of what he says is a lie.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got to admit, it’s damn entertaining.”

Jack had a talent for spinning tales and a gift for gab, often using his skills to charm strangers and earn free drinks in exchange for his stories.

A man who had just entered the tavern spotted Jack and walked over, giving him a friendly tap on the shoulder. With a grin, he addressed the group of outsiders.

“Don’t believe him too much. He’s quite the exaggerator.”

“Wait, you mean he’s lying?” one of the men, previously captivated, now looked visibly disappointed.

Jack leapt up in protest. “Lying? I’ve never told a lie in my entire life!”

From the next table, someone quipped, “Well, you just told your first!” The whole room erupted in laughter.

The man who had interrupted pulled out a chair and sat down. “I remember some other wild thing he said before. About a village where they don’t till the land or use fertilizer, but still get sacks of grain from one small plot.”

“If there’s a place like that, I’ll quit my job and become a farmer!” someone shouted from the neighboring table, their interest piqued.

“That one’s true!” Jack exclaimed, pounding his chest with his fist in frustration.

“You think that’s strange? There’s more. Let me tell you another story. There was this woman, bit out of her mind, you know? She said her infant daughter starved to death right in front of her.”

Jack twirled his finger by his temple, indicating her craziness.

“But then, out of nowhere, she shows up one morning with a baby in her arms. At first, everyone thought she’d picked up some orphaned child.”

Jack’s face grew serious, and his voice dropped lower. The listeners, previously laughing, leaned in closer, now unintentionally tense.

“But a few days later, she comes back with a little girl, maybe six or seven years old. How does a baby grow that fast in just a few days?”

The people exchanged glances, skeptical.

“She probably just brought a different kid.”

“She wasn’t all there in the head, right?”

“Exactly. That’s possible. But,” Jack’s tone grew more ominous as he continued, “here’s where it gets really strange. No matter how much time passed, that little girl never grew older. She stayed exactly the same.”

 

***

 

Jack awoke in an unfamiliar room. It was a bare space with nothing but an old bed and a small table.

“Where the hell am I?” he muttered.

No matter how drunk he got, he always managed to find his way home. Last night, he hadn’t even been that drunk. He couldn’t afford to drink much, so the few drinks he’d scrounged had only given him a slight buzz.

He jumped out of bed and tried the door handle, but it was locked.

“Hey! Somebody! You can’t just lock up an innocent man! What the hell is going on?”

He pounded on the door and yelled, but it wasn’t until much later that the door finally opened. A stranger tossed a small pouch at Jack’s feet before he could shout any more. Jack, who had been ready to yell, froze when he saw what tumbled out of the pouch: gold coins.

He quickly scrambled to pick up the coins, stuffing them back into the pouch.

“Wait here,” the man said.

Jack clutched the pouch tightly, nodding his head. The man left, locking the door again. Alone in the room, Jack glanced around several times before sitting down on the bed, his eyes fixed on the pouch. He turned it over, spilling out the gold coins, staring in disbelief.

Hugging the pouch close to his chest, Jack waited quietly. Whoever had locked him up clearly wasn’t planning to starve him to death, as food was brought regularly. As the days passed, Jack’s attachment to the pouch grew. His mind filled with plans for what he would do with the money once he got out.

He lost track of how many days had passed. He spent his time counting the coins over and over, occasionally pausing to eat the meals that were brought in.

Then one day, the door opened again, startling Jack. He hurriedly shoved the coins back into the pouch. Two figures entered the room. Both were dressed in black robes, but one of them wore a hood that obscured his face, while the other was an older man.

They sat down at the table. The older man gave Jack a sly smile, eyeing him as Jack clutched the pouch defensively.

“The gold is yours. Come, sit,” the older man said.

“Is… is it really?” Jack asked, still wary, but visibly more relaxed. He cautiously approached and sat down, the tension in his body easing at the idea of the money being his to keep.

“There is some information we’re interested in. The gold is payment for that.”

Jack’s nervousness faded further. Being paid for information made him feel more secure, as if the gold was rightfully his. His face lit up as he nodded eagerly.

“What do you want to know? Just ask. I’ll tell you anything you want!”

“You know some interesting stories. Like that village where strange things happen.”

“Oh… that.”

“If it turns out to be a lie…”

“No, it’s true! Every word of it is the truth! I swear on my life,” Jack said, pressing his hand to his chest in a show of sincerity.

― The story of the girl who doesn’t grow—is that true?

The voice that came from the hooded figure was eerie, almost echoing. The strange, chilling sound startled Jack. He couldn’t see the man’s face at all, shrouded in shadow under the hood. For a brief moment, an absurd thought crossed Jack’s mind: What if there’s no face under there? The figure’s presence was that unsettling.

“Yes… yes, that story is true as well,” Jack stammered.

A faint red glow appeared from within the hood. Jack blinked, unsure if he was imagining it, but he kept his eyes fixed on the figure, growing more nervous.

Suddenly, an invisible force lifted Jack off the ground, pulling him toward the hooded man. Before Jack could react, the robed figure’s hand gripped his collar, yanking him close. The dark hood was right in front of him now, but still, there was only blackness within—no face, no eyes, just an empty void.

“Uh… uhh….”

― If it’s not true, you’ll have to stake your life.

“Y-Yes, yes. Ask me anything, anything you want to know! I’ll tell you everything I know…”

― No. I’ll search your mind myself.

The red glow from within the hood flared, growing brighter as it drew closer. Jack’s eyes widened in terror as the light bore down on him.

 

***

 

Jack’s hometown was a village hidden deep in the mountains, founded by people fleeing brutal tax collectors. It was remote, untouched by outsiders.

Life there was harsh. Villagers gathered herbs from the forest and had to walk for days to sell them at distant markets. They exchanged those herbs for food, just enough to avoid starving. Those who had once known the agony of poverty, even selling their own children to survive, were content with this meager existence.

The villagers feared outsiders. They kept their settlement hidden, worried that exposure would mean losing their hard-won home.

But at some point, things began to change. Rare herbs, which had once been found only sparingly, started growing in abundance. The trees bore heavy fruit each autumn. Even in the small, rocky fields where they could barely grow vegetables, grains began to sprout. And though they didn’t use fertilizer, the crops were rich and full.

The villagers no longer needed to leave to trade for food. There was more than enough to eat, and their stores of valuable herbs only grew larger. At first, they were cautious, reluctant to reveal their secretive community to the outside world. But over time, greed began to set in.

The villagers who once only went to sell herbs once a month began making trips every two weeks, then once every five days. Eventually, they signed a contract with a merchant guild to supply the herbs regularly, and soon, the guild’s wagons were coming and going regularly.

Now, Jack found himself trudging through the overgrown brush with a group of men, all of them grumbling.

“Are you sure we’re on the right path?”

“We’re not lost, are we?”

Jack, growing irritated with their constant complaints, snapped back, “Just keep moving. I know the way.”

“You sure this is going to make us money?”

“If you doubt it, turn back. But don’t forget to return the advance payment first,” Jack retorted, silencing the griping men.

“Should be around here somewhere…”

Though he had been born and raised in the village, finding the way back was proving harder than Jack had anticipated. He hadn’t expected the village to be so well hidden.

Damn it, I thought I’d never come back to this place.

The villagers had changed once money was involved. After Jack’s father had passed away, leaving him alone, the villagers hadn’t given him a fair share of the profits. Feeling betrayed, Jack had left with the merchant guild, angry and disillusioned.

But now, as they stumbled upon a familiar path, Jack’s steps quickened. “Ah, that’s it. I remember this trail.”

Encouraged, the others picked up their pace as well.

Jack envisioned what the village would look like now. Passing the old trees and climbing over the large boulders, he expected to see a thriving settlement. But as he crested the ridge and looked down, his heart sank, and his lips turned downward.

“…What the hell?”

Someone muttered exactly what Jack was thinking.

He had expected the village to have grown since he left. Even when he had last seen it, the village was expanding. But what lay before him now was worse than he could have imagined. It was desolate, rundown, and seemed emptier than when he had been a child.

“This isn’t what we heard.”

“No kidding. Does anyone even live here?”

Jack and the others explored the open doors of a few houses, but everything looked abandoned. The largest field, which should have been bursting with grain, was overrun with weeds.

“Is anyone here?” Jack shouted, his voice echoing back. He yelled and knocked on every door, searching for any sign of life, but the village seemed completely deserted.

“Maybe some kind of plague wiped them out,” someone whispered, causing the men to grow pale with fear.

“We need to leave. Now.”

“I’m not dying in a place like this.”

“Who goes there?”

Suddenly, a voice responded. Jack turned to see an old man poking his head out of one of the last houses they had checked. The man’s face was etched with suspicion and fear as he scanned the group.

Jack squinted, then his eyes widened in recognition.

“Old Jeto! It’s me! Jack! Do you remember me?”

The old man squinted at Jack for a long moment before slowly nodding.

“Yes… I remember you. Jack.”

 

***