The Song of Flowers - Chapter 3: The Heir of the Great Family (5)

The third and final piece of evidence Luther had mentioned was the one Ron found the most perplexing.

“The ring is an heirloom of the Levass family. Only the family’s blood relatives can wear it. It’s been missing for a long time, and we suspect the late lady was given it as a keepsake.”

Ron opened the jewelry box and stared at the ring. He pulled it out and slid it onto his finger. Once again, it fit perfectly, without any resistance.

Luther had mentioned three pieces of evidence, but it was clear that the ring was the real reason they believed Ron to be the Lord’s blood relative. When Alan had asked to see the ring, Ron had handed it over. Alan must have reported to Luther what he had seen.

Ron couldn’t understand it. But the ring was the key that allowed him to perfectly impersonate Leon.

Still, he knew there could be more trials ahead. This was Haran, a land steeped in magic. There might be other ways to test his bloodline, ways he wasn’t aware of yet. When he met the Lord, she might recognize instantly that he wasn’t her grandson.

If my lie is exposed, I’ll be killed.

There was no way the great house of Levass would allow someone who mocked their lineage to live. If he was fortunate enough to survive, he would likely spend the rest of his life rotting in a dungeon. Whether that could be considered “fortunate” was another matter.

Knock knock.

A soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Ron grasped his sword, ready to draw it if needed, and opened the door. He had a good idea who it might be, but his reflexes were ingrained.

As expected, the fearless little girl from the day before stood outside. This time, she was dressed properly, perhaps because it was earlier in the day.

Adele held out a wine bottle to him.

“I was taught that it’s impolite to visit empty-handed,” she said with a smile.

Ron chuckled as he took the wine bottle from her.

“Thank you for the invitation.”

Adele curtsied, holding her dress with both hands. It was amusingly endearing, considering that this was the same girl who had barged in last night in her pajamas. And calling it an “invitation” when she had come on her own whim—it was cute in its own way. Ron decided to play along.

“Please, come in, Lady.”

Adele stepped lightly into the room and settled on the sofa.

“I got here without being caught.”

“Good.”

Ron answered absently. Whether or not she was caught was no longer of great concern to him. According to what Luther had told him, his presence being revealed would be more of a hassle than a danger.

“You said you live here? Since when?” Ron asked, curious about the identity of this girl, especially since Luther had said the Lord had no other relatives.

“Since I was little.”

You’re still little, Ron thought to himself.

“If it weren’t for my grandmother, I would have been very unhappy. My grandmother is amazing and wonderful,” Adele said, her eyes lighting up as she spoke of her grandmother. She seemed eager to make Ron understand just how great her grandmother was. Ron, on the other hand, felt indifferent, listening to the girl’s sudden praise for her grandmother without much interest.

“You said she’s ill. Is she getting better?”

“Not yet…” Adele’s cheerful expression faded, and she shook her head.

“I don’t really know how she’s doing. I haven’t seen her in a long time.”

“Can’t you visit her?”

“They said she’s too sick to see anyone. It feels strange to talk about this with someone else. I’ve never talked about it with anyone before.”

Ron didn’t like the resigned tone in Adele’s voice. There was a weary smile on her face that seemed too mature for someone her age.

“Do you have any other guardians besides your grandmother?”

“There was one man… He was my grandmother’s son. But… he passed away recently.”

Despite her life of apparent comfort, this girl seemed to carry a deep loneliness. Ron couldn’t help but feel a twinge of something as he noticed a resemblance between her and his younger self.

Adele had been watching him drink wine and finally asked, “Does the wine taste good?”

“It’s not about the taste.”

“That’s what everyone says. My uncle used to say that too. If it doesn’t taste good, why do people keep drinking it?”

“It depends on the person. Some drink because they genuinely enjoy it, others because they want to forget something.”

“Does it really help you forget?”

Ron noted the depth in the girl’s gaze. Her earlier mention of her absent parents flashed in his mind. He took another sip from his glass, then poured a small amount of wine into the bottom and pushed the glass toward her.

“Try it. See if it helps you forget.”

Adele blinked, wide-eyed, as she glanced between the wine glass and Ron. Hesitantly, she picked up the glass with both hands and took a careful sip. Her face immediately scrunched up at the tart, dry, and slightly bitter taste.

After a moment, she licked her lips, her expression puzzled. While the initial taste wasn’t pleasant, she seemed intrigued by the lingering flavor in her mouth. She sipped again, this time finishing the glass, and held it out to Ron.

“More, please?”

Ron looked at her in disbelief. Adele’s eyes sparkled as she nodded enthusiastically.

“Wait. This wine is too strong. I’ll get something else for you.”

Ron left the bedroom. He remembered seeing a bottle of champagne in the wine cabinet that was more like juice, something mild enough for a child.

As he rummaged through the wine cabinet, the door opened, and Alan entered. Spotting Ron, Alan bowed his head.

“Young master, I have something to report.”

Ron glanced at the slightly ajar bedroom door and then nodded.

Their conversation ended up lasting longer than expected.

“The Seven Families?” Ron asked.

“Yes. They are the vassal houses of the great families, holding special status that grants them voting rights on important decisions.”

“Why seven specifically?”

“According to the law of the great families, there must be between five and nine families.”

“I’ve been noticing the number seven a lot lately. Is there some significance to it in Haran?”

Ron had been encountering the number seven repeatedly. There were seven great families, seven knight divisions in Levass, and the castle itself had seven towers, including two that served only as watchtowers.

“Yes, it has ties to the founding history of Haran.”

Ron was curious, but the conversation was getting long, and his attention kept drifting to the bedroom.

“We can talk about this later. I was about to have a drink and head to bed.”

Seeing Ron standing by the wine cabinet, Alan nodded. “Of course, young master. I’ll take my leave.”

After Alan left, Ron finally found the champagne, something mild enough for a child. He returned to the bedroom, but something felt off as soon as he entered. Adele was sitting quietly on the sofa, but her eyes had a dreamy, hazy look to them.

An uneasy feeling crept over him. Ron picked up the wine bottle that had been on the sofa table. It felt light. He gave it a shake, but it was empty.

“You drank all of this?”

Adele looked up at him and giggled, her smile loose and wobbly.

“…I must be out of my mind,” Ron muttered to himself.

Why had he given alcohol to a child? Things quickly went downhill. Adele, after shaking her head from side to side, collapsed onto the sofa. Soon, the sound of soft snoring followed.

“Haa…” Ron let out a long, exasperated sigh.

He tried waking her. Calling her name got no response, so he carefully shook her shoulder.

“Grandma…” Adele mumbled, a tear rolling down her cheek.

The pain of losing someone dear was something Ron had experienced recently, and he couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the girl’s unspoken fears.

Even after some time, Adele didn’t wake up. If her absence was noticed, it would definitely cause a commotion. He stepped out into the sitting room and rang the small bell on the table. No sound came from it, but Ron knew someone would arrive soon.

After a short while, a maid entered. It was the mute maid Adele had mentioned being close with.

“Go into the bedroom and look at the sofa,” Ron instructed.

The maid hesitated, then walked into the room. When she returned, her face was pale.

“She’s your mistress, right?” Ron asked.

The maid’s eyes darted nervously, but she nodded.

“Take her back. If you can’t manage on your own, get help.”

The maid fidgeted for a moment, then quickly bowed and left the room. Ron went back into the bedroom and stepped out onto the balcony, staring down at the dark garden below.

“Oh my goodness, miss! What have you gotten yourself into?” came a loud, exasperated voice from inside the bedroom. It seemed the mute maid had brought someone else along.

“Doing something like this! Miss, really… Oh, is that alcohol I smell? I can’t deal with this! Patty, help me get her up.”

Ron chuckled softly, hearing the maid’s grumbling. It seemed Adele really was close with the maids, just as she’d said. The maid’s tone was bold and unfiltered, treating her young mistress with a familiar, chiding voice.

 

***

 

On the third day, Ron had spent the entire morning on the balcony, looking down at the garden.

“Is this the day I just have to get through?” he thought.

Luther had visited the day before and informed him, “Tomorrow, the Lord will awaken. You’ll be able to meet her soon.”

Luther’s words meant that Ron would now have to actively lie. Up until this point, he had remained mostly silent, but soon he would need to claim that he had the right to inherit the Levass family’s title.

“Is this really the right thing to do?” Ron questioned himself.

Would it be justified to steal everything that was supposed to belong to his brother, even in the name of revenge? Did he deserve it? In order to become Leon, the real Leon’s existence had to remain unknown—forever erased. It felt like he was betraying his brother, killing him all over again.

He was torn, his thoughts swinging back and forth countless times throughout the day.

While trying to clear his mind, his eyes suddenly widened as he saw a familiar figure in the garden below. The small, blonde-haired girl had not visited since she was carried out on a maid’s back a few days ago. Only now did he realize that he had been wondering about Adele all along.

He rang the bell and summoned Patty.

“I’d like to go out to the garden. Show me the way.”

Patty hesitated, clearly unsure if this was a good idea.

“I’ll make sure you’re not blamed,” Ron reassured her.

With a bit of convincing, Patty led him to the back door that opened into the garden. Whether it was luck or good timing, they encountered no one along the way as they descended the stairs and walked down the halls.

From above, the garden had looked like a simple space. But walking through it, Ron realized it was more like a small forest. He wandered deeper into the greenery, taking in his surroundings.

“It’s bigger than I thought.”

As he ventured further, the dense trees blocked out most of the sunlight, casting deep shadows. Ron made his way toward a patch of light in the distance.

The source of the light was a large, circular clearing. The grass was short, almost like a field, and the sun shone brightly, uninterrupted by trees. In the center stood a single towering tree, with a swing hanging from its branches. Sitting on the swing, gently swaying back and forth, was Adele.

“Welcome to Levass Castle, Leon,” Ron recalled the girl’s words, and a smile tugged at his lips. At least one person had welcomed him, even if she was just an innocent child who knew nothing of the truth.

Ron started to approach Adele but suddenly stopped. His eyes flickered in surprise. Surrounding the girl were small, glowing specks of golden light, filling the space around her.

“What in the world…”

His steps quickened, almost breaking into a run, until he stood before Adele. He reached out and grabbed the ropes of the swing, stopping its movement. Adele, who had been gazing downward, looked up in surprise at the shadow now cast over her.

“…Leon?” she said softly, her eyes widening as she glanced around at the glowing lights. She looked from the lights back to him, clearly shocked.

Adele had always called the gentle lights around her “the song of the flowers.” They appeared sometimes when she was alone on the swing, surrounding her like soft, floating flower petals. The first time they had appeared, they had comforted her, and she had since grown accustomed to their presence. However, they were shy and always disappeared whenever someone else entered the space.

This was the first time they had remained, even with someone else there.

“Adele,” Ron said, and the moment he spoke her name, the lights vanished in an instant.

“…Is it okay for you to be out here?” Adele asked, still looking at him in confusion.

“No one saw me,” Ron replied.

Adele burst into laughter.

“See? It’s easy, right?”

Her bright, clear laughter made Ron smile too.

“Yes, very easy.”

They both sat down, leaning against the tree for shade.

“Why aren’t you asking me about what just happened?” Adele asked after a moment. “That was strange, wasn’t it? The forest just comforts me, that’s all.”

“I know,” Ron said calmly.

“How do you know?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

“I’ve seen it before.”

Adele, startled by his answer, turned to look at him.

“Where did you see it?” she asked, her voice filled with wonder.

“…I don’t know. I just remember seeing it somewhere,” Ron said, his voice low.

Adele’s expression fell slightly, disappointed by the vague response, and Ron’s gaze darkened.

When he was a child, there had been a garden where he lived—a vast field filled with flowers that seemed to stretch on forever. Perhaps it hadn’t been as large as he remembered, but to a child’s eyes, it felt endless.

Flowers bloomed in that garden all year round. Even in the dead of winter, when snow covered the ground, the garden was in full bloom.

The mistress of the garden was a beautiful woman who always walked through it with sad eyes. On days when the golden lights, like floating pollen, filled the garden, her soft cries could be heard.

After she disappeared, the garden never bloomed again. The memory of that ruined garden still haunted him.

“That light…” he began.

“Huh?” Adele asked, looking at him.

“…Never mind.”

It was a memory he preferred to forget.

As Ron fell silent, Adele glanced at him, reading his mood. After a pause, she spoke up.

“I’ve realized that I’ve done a lot of rude things.”

“Is that why you stopped coming?” he asked.

“…Yes.”

The morning after she had been carried back to her room, Adele had woken up in bed, at first not recalling the events of the previous day. But as Mel recounted everything that had happened, it all came rushing back to her.

She couldn’t believe the embarrassing things she had done—storming into his room in her pajamas, acting foolishly without thinking. Slowly, she began to reflect on her actions.

Adele realized she had unconsciously been treating him like she would her grandmother, allowing herself childish behavior in front of him. She disliked being seen as a child, yet she had played the role, hoping that maybe he would protect her in the absence of her grandmother.

While she wished for her grandmother’s recovery, she had also prepared herself, driven by a sharp survival instinct, just in case things didn’t turn out well.

Once Adele became aware of these feelings, she felt ashamed and foolish.

Suddenly, she sprang up and ran a few steps away, then turned back. Ron had taken a step forward but stopped when she kept her distance, as if she might run if he got too close.

Adele bowed her head deeply, and Ron raised an eyebrow, curious.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a determined expression.

Ron stayed silent, watching her.

“I know who Leon is.”

Still, he said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

“I wanted to know what kind of person he was. At first, I thought it was just curiosity, but now I realize I had a purpose. It’s so embarrassing to admit.”

Adele couldn’t look him in the eyes, keeping her gaze lowered. Then, without another word, she spun around and dashed off toward the tower.

Ron watched the girl run off, her small figure disappearing into the distance. Slowly, he began to walk. His expression was neutral, but soon a smile broke across his face. The child’s candid confession struck him as pure, and he couldn’t help but feel like a corrupted adult in comparison. Oddly, though, it didn’t bother him.