The Song of Flowers - Chapter 3: The Heir of the Great Family (4)

Later in the afternoon, Luther came to see Ron.

“I am Luther Basil. You may call me the Head of Basil,” he introduced himself.

Alan had already explained that Luther was the advisor and acting lord of the castle. Even without the explanation, Ron could tell immediately that Luther held a high position. His gaze and demeanor were anything but ordinary.

“It’s such an honor to finally greet you, young master,” Luther said with a bow, but Ron only glanced at him indifferently. Luther placed a small jewel box on the table.

“I’m returning this to you.”

Ron opened the box and confirmed the black ring inside, then closed it and set it down.

“Is the verification complete, or do you need me to put the ring on in front of you?”

Luther was taken aback by Ron’s cold tone.

“Have I done something to upset you?” Luther asked cautiously.

“I just have questions. You appeared out of nowhere, telling me that I have another identity and demanding I come with you. When I refused, you looked ready to drag me along by force. Then you took my ring for verification, and now that I’m here, I’m supposed to hide out of sight. So, what is it you really want from me?”

Luther let out a low sigh.

‘What have you done, Alan?’ he thought. Alan was excellent in most respects, but his rigidity was a serious flaw. He was the quintessential knight—strictly following orders without flexibility.

‘I should’ve included someone who knew how to talk in the search party.’

“I apologize, young master. There were mistakes made in bringing you here, and I will hold those responsible accountable,” Luther said.

“That’s unnecessary. I’m not asking for them to be punished. Sir Coe was just following orders. What I want to know is the intention behind the one who gave those orders.”

“The one who ordered your retrieval is the Lord of Levass Castle,” Luther replied.

“I’d appreciate it if we could cut to the chase. Do they want me to participate in a succession struggle?”

Luther blinked in surprise before letting out a small sigh of realization.

“There seems to be a misunderstanding.”

Ron frowned. Despite his request for a direct answer, Luther was still being evasive. Based on what Alan had told him, the head of the Levass family was gravely ill, and Ron had already pieced together much of the situation.

Levass, one of the great houses of Haran.

In Haran, a country without a king, the power of the great houses rivaled that of a monarch in other nations. It wasn’t hard to guess why they were suddenly searching for a long-lost relative after over twenty years. There was likely a fierce struggle for succession, and in the middle of it, they had discovered a new heir. The faction that had been left out of the fight was now hoping to use this newfound heir to enter the fray.

Ron assumed that Luther, as the head of the Basil family, was leading this faction. That’s why the clarity and confidence in Luther’s eyes made Ron uneasy. A man who sought power should exude a certain cunning ambition. If he could hide even that, how deep did his schemes run?

“You don’t need to involve yourself in any succession disputes,” Luther said calmly. “You are the Lord’s only blood relative.”

Ron took a moment to process the meaning of Luther’s words.

“Am I misunderstanding the word ‘only’? Are you saying I’m going to be the master of Levass?”

“Precisely.”

“I don’t know much about Haran, but I know enough to understand that being the heir to one of its great houses is akin to being a king in other countries.”

“That’s entirely correct.”

“Even small merchant families fight fiercely for their succession. And now, you’re telling me that in a great house like Levass, the only person who can become the heir is a grandson who was just recently discovered?”

“The truth is the truth, however unbelievable it may seem,” Luther said with a resigned smile.

“Levass is a family that rarely has children.”

Ron began to wonder if what they needed was a puppet ruler. If all they wanted was to use him, that would be a far easier situation to manage.

“You’d be mistaken to think I’d let myself be used so easily.”

Luther observed Ron with interest.

Twenty-four years old. Not a child by any means—if anything, already too old. By this age, one’s values and character were usually fully formed. Given that Ron had received no formal education and had likely spent his life at the fringes of society, his development had probably been shaped by hardship. He had likely been scraping by among the lowest levels of society.

Despite all this, Luther was able to assess people fairly quickly through conversation, and this young man—the Lord’s grandson—was neither foolish nor vile. That alone was enough. He had expected far worse.

“I understand your concerns, but it’s not as you think. No one will be able to use you,” Luther said, now feeling it was worth having a more in-depth discussion with Ron. He believed Ron was capable of understanding the complex situation.

“The current head of Levass is gravely ill,” Luther began, carefully explaining the situation.

Ron’s brief thought after hearing the full explanation was simple: astonishing. It became clear to him how different Haran was from the rest of the continent.

“So, you need three days until the Lord wakes up?”

“Yes. The mages have assured us.”

“A magical sleep…” Ron muttered. He had never imagined magic could be used that way.

On the continent, Haran was often referred to as the Magic Empire, yet it had no emperor. Several great houses ruled over different regions, but the exact nature of their governance was largely unknown. Though Haran had been in contact with the continent for decades, it remained a land shrouded in mystery.

“In Haran, is it common for a woman to be the head of a house?” Ron asked, still surprised to learn that the Lord of Levass was his grandmother, not his grandfather.

“It’s not uncommon. After all, there are queens on the continent, aren’t there?”

“In some countries, yes, but it’s rare.”

“Well, in Haran, we don’t place as much importance on birth order or gender when selecting an heir. It’s based on ability.”

“There’s no distinction between legitimate and illegitimate children?” Ron inquired.

“Marriage in Haran is monogamous. While illegitimate children do exist, once they are recognized in the family registry, they are considered legitimate heirs.”

Ron couldn’t help but think, Perhaps I’ll have to abandon everything I thought I knew. His questions seemed endless, and he realized this wasn’t something that could be solved with simple answers. He would need to experience and learn things firsthand. It was best to prepare himself for the fact that he had landed in a completely different world and would have to relearn everything from the ground up.

“So, to summarize, I’m supposed to stay hidden until the Lord wakes up?”

“I’m simply offering the best course of action,” Luther replied.

“As long as I’m avoiding them out of disgust rather than fear, I have no complaints.”

Luther laughed lightly at Ron’s remark.

The real reason Luther was keeping the return of the heir a secret was that he was cautious about how Merlon might react. However, he didn’t consider Merlon a serious threat. Luther still held the highest authority as the acting lord and could easily remove Merlon from power if he chose to be ruthless.

Once the Lord awoke, the matter would resolve itself. There was no need to stir up any unnecessary commotion.

One of the reasons the Levass family was so respected in the East was that they had never publicly displayed internal power struggles. Luther had no intention of tarnishing that long-standing tradition. He was grateful that the young master seemed to understand. It was always a pleasure to converse with someone who could grasp things quickly.

“I must take my leave, as I can’t be away for too long. Should you need anything, feel free to ask Alan.”

“…I do have one question,” Ron said, hesitating slightly.

“Of course. Please ask.”

“Do I… resemble them?”

“Pardon?”

“Are you sure I’m the person you’ve been searching for?”

Ron was curious about the basis for their certainty that he was the blood relative of the Lord. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could still clearly recall Leon’s face. People had always remarked on it, and Ron knew it too—they didn’t resemble each other at all.

Luther smiled warmly.

“To be honest, you don’t resemble them.”

“….”

“Neither the Lord nor the late family members.”

“…Then why are you so sure?”

“Well, a son doesn’t always take after his father. He might resemble his mother’s side of the family.”

Luther had thought the same thing when he first saw Ron—his mother must have been quite a beauty. The Lord’s late husband had a pleasant smile, but his looks were rather plain. While the two sons born from their union were more handsome than their father, neither could be called strikingly handsome.

“But there are three more important reasons for our certainty.”

***

The red wine filled the glass. He wished for something stronger, but the display cabinet only held wine.

He swirled the glass, letting the aroma rise as he brought it to his lips. The habit of savoring the scent before drinking came naturally to him. The sip left a rich aftertaste as it smoothly slid down his throat. It was a habit learned long ago.

His thoughts were conflicted. He had once abandoned his past.

Ron had intended to live the rest of his life as a mercenary. His plan had been simple: earn enough money, settle down in a quiet place, and one day, sit across from Leon at dusk, recounting the adventures they’d had over a drink.

But Leon’s death had shattered that small dream.

Now, he was trying to leave the past behind once more and start a different life.

After parting ways with Giulio, Ron had returned to the log cabin in the mountains where he had once lived with Leon and his mother. His mother’s grave was there.

He and Leon had promised to move her grave when they had earned enough to settle down. He had always planned to return to the cabin someday. But coming back alone wasn’t something he had expected.

While he was sitting lost in thought at his mother’s grave, the knights appeared.

“May I ask who lies in this grave?” one of them asked.

The question had caught him off guard. The knight’s manner was polite, and Ron lowered the weapon he had instinctively raised toward them.

“…My mother,” he replied.

“Is her name perhaps Alice? She had brown hair and green eyes, correct?”

“You came looking for her?” Ron asked.

Instead of answering, the man let out a soft sigh. Holding back his emotions, he bowed deeply, kneeling on one knee before the grave.

“I am Alan Coe, captain of the Black Knights of Levass. It is an honor to meet you, young master.”

At first, Ron had been confused, thinking they had mistaken him for someone else.

“Young master Leon, you are the grandson of the Lord of the great house of Levass. The Lord has been searching for you desperately all these years. I’ve been ordered to bring you home.”

When Ron realized they were mistaking him for Leon, his mind had raced. He had thought that if he could harness the power of the great house of Levass, he could repay the debt of Leon’s death.

So, Ron became Leon.

The Name.

That was the first piece of evidence Luther had mentioned.

“In the Levass family, the names of children are predetermined. They are passed down from ancestors to descendants. The late lady must have received your name from your father while she was pregnant.”

Leon was a name passed down through the Levass family, but names alone weren’t enough proof of lineage. There were countless people in the world named Leon.

The Violet Eyes.

Ron touched the corner of his eyes.

That was the second piece of evidence Luther had provided.

“All of the blood relatives of the Levass family have violet eyes. It’s a unique feature that you’ll understand once you meet the Lord.”

Even without meeting the Lord, Ron could guess what Luther meant. Leon had often made casual remarks about it.

“Your eyes, you know. Every time I see them, they fascinate me. I can’t explain why exactly. Do you feel the same when you look at mine?”

Ron had always thought it was ridiculous, as they both had the same eyes. But when Ron looked closely at Leon’s eyes, there had been something eerie about them. It wasn’t just that the iris was violet, but it felt as though a thin layer of some otherworldly film covered the eyes, subtly swirling. When Ron thought about his own eyes being the same, it left him unsettled.

Though he and Leon hadn’t resembled each other much, no one had ever doubted they were brothers. Their eyes alone left a strong enough impression on others to confirm it.

But the idea that their eye color proved his bloodline to Levass was false. Ron knew that because he was the proof himself. If he had been an orphan, he might have entertained the possibility that one of his parents was related to the Levass family.

But Ron remembered his real parents clearly. Neither of them had violet eyes.

The most important fact was that Ron’s violet eyes weren’t natural. They had turned that color as a result of an accident in which he had narrowly escaped death.

The Ring.