The Song of Flowers - Chapter 4: The Succession Ceremony (2)

“There is a poor child… someone I have raised as if she were my own daughter.”

The moment she mentioned a child, a face immediately came to Ron’s mind—the face of the girl who had cried for her grandmother even in her sleep.

“Adele… you mean her?”

Shima smiled softly.

“You’ve seen her, haven’t you? Isn’t she a lovely girl?”

“Yes,” Ron answered quietly.

Ron smiled slightly. He had wondered who had raised Adele to be the way she was, and now, seeing Shima’s warm, loving eyes, he understood. Adele had been raised with immense love and protection, shielded from the world’s darkness.

“Please, take care of that child. Protect her. Make sure she is loved,” Shima asked, her voice full of affection.

“I will,” Ron responded firmly.

If that is your wish, he thought, resolving to protect Adele, no matter the cost, from any pain or sorrow. He would give everything he had to keep her safe.

“I promise,” he added.

Shima, still holding his hand, gently patted it, nodding with satisfaction. She then turned to the butler standing nearby.

“Let them in,” she said.

The door opened, and several people quietly entered the room. Not everyone could come in, but the heads of the seven families and a few key figures entered before the door closed again.

“Lady Levass,” they said in unison, bowing deeply toward the elderly woman sitting on the bed. Though she had been unconscious for months, her petite frame still carried the weight of authority.

“It has been a long time, hasn’t it? I slept far too long, didn’t I?” she remarked, a soft chuckle escaping her lips.

Small, polite laughter rippled through the room.

“Thank you all for standing by through these unexpected events. I appreciate your loyalty and efforts,” Shima said as she gazed around the room.

Merlon, who had not raised his head since entering, remained frozen. Others, like Kailey and those with guilty consciences, subtly averted their eyes as Shima’s gaze passed over them. A flicker of anger briefly crossed her face.

I won’t be able to settle everything myself, she thought. It was best to leave the matter of disloyal retainers to her grandson.

However, there was one person she intended to deal with personally. Her eyes turned cold as they landed on Merlon, who trembled under her gaze.

I’m finished, Merlon thought, his mind reeling with dread. Shima had always treated him kindly because he was her late husband’s brother. Despite that, he had never dared defy her openly, knowing her cold nature once someone crossed her.

How dare he? Shima thought bitterly.

Her husband had been a noble from the continent, a man whose family had fallen from grace, leaving him with little but a title. By chance, he had joined a wealthy distant relative on a visit to Haran. At a grand party attended by all of Haran’s most prominent families, Shima had met him.

She had been drawn to his warmth and gentle nature. He had been a kind and tender man, offering her solace when she needed it most. At the time, Shima had recently lost both her parents and had inherited the title of Lord at just twenty years old. Her husband became her refuge.

They married, and for the years they spent raising their two sons, her life had been at its brightest.

Her husband had often worried about his family back on the continent, particularly his younger half-brother, Merlon, who had been brought into the family after their father’s remarriage. After her husband’s death, Shima had searched for his family, eventually finding Merlon, who had grown up as little more than a neglected orphan in a distant relative’s household. She had brought him to Levass and treated him almost like one of her own sons, despite resistance from others.

She had even added him to the Levass family registry, something unprecedented for someone without Levass blood.

I raised you like a son, and this is how you repay me? With talk of a council of elders? Shima thought, her anger building. The Levass family had never needed an elder council, as the family was small, without many branches. Yet Merlon had brazenly suggested one, revealing his ambitions.

Shima had been disappointed in Merlon for a long time. She had turned a blind eye to his lies, the way he squandered money, and his failed ventures fueled by arrogance. She knew everything.

Her patience had finally snapped when she learned that Merlon’s children had tormented Adele. Even then, she had considered showing leniency, for the sake of her late husband, ensuring that Merlon’s family didn’t live in disgrace. But now, she was done.

“Lord Coe,” she said, her voice steady.

“Yes, my Lady,” Marcus Coe responded, bowing with precision.

“Remove him from my sight.”

All eyes followed Shima’s cold gaze to where Merlon stood. Those closest to him subtly stepped back, as if to avoid touching something tainted.

“It will be done,” Marcus replied.

At his signal, two knights stepped forward and grabbed Merlon by the arms. Merlon thrashed in their grip, then fell to the floor, crawling toward the bed.

“Please, sister-in-law, please—”

“Can’t you address me properly?” Shima’s voice cut through his pleas like a blade.

“S-sorry… my Lady,” Merlon stammered.

“You dared to challenge my authority. As the head of this family, I hereby expel you from the Levass line. Your name will be stricken from the family registry.”

“Please, my Lady, I beg you for mercy!” Merlon cried, groveling at her feet. Shima looked down at him with cold detachment.

“I was a fool to trust you,” she said softly, almost to herself.

Knowing that her time was limited, she had pretended to be in a coma to buy time, all in hopes of finding her grandson. The Levass family had endured for centuries, supported by loyal retainers and its indomitable strength. She had never imagined that someone like Merlon would create such chaos within her household.

“Aren’t you going to act, Lord Coe?” Shima snapped.

Merlon, in a desperate attempt to avoid the inevitable, crawled even closer to the bed. Pointing a trembling finger at Ron, he screamed, “I don’t believe it! How can that man be your grandson?!”

Shima’s expression darkened.

“Lord Basil is deceiving you, my Lady! He’s tricking you to hide the truth!” Merlon continued, his voice rising in hysteria.

The people in the room shook their heads in disgust. It was a pitiful display, and they were embarrassed to witness it.

Kailey, sensing danger, slowly backed toward the rear of the room, trying to escape Shima’s notice. He feared that Merlon’s antics would somehow drag him into the mess.

“I’ve seen portraits of the late Lord! I know what your sons looked like! He doesn’t resemble them at all! How can he be your grandson? Where’s the proof?” Merlon shouted, his voice raw with desperation.

Shima’s brow furrowed. Merlon’s argument was absurd. Ron had the family’s violet eyes and wore the heirloom ring of Levass—there was no doubt about his lineage.

“And, and! The Brody family has a unique trait that is passed down genetically! If he has that, I’ll acknowledge him!” Merlon shouted, grasping for anything to save himself.

It wasn’t Merlon’s place to acknowledge anything. However, now that he had raised the issue, it had to be addressed. If it wasn’t, rumors could spread, even if there was no truth to them. People might question whether Ron was truly Shima’s grandson, or worse, they might suggest he was born out of wedlock.

Shima turned to look at Ron.

Throughout the entire scene, Ron quietly observed, thinking back on what little he had been told about Merlon, Leon’s uncle. Luther had assured him that Merlon wasn’t someone to be overly concerned with.

I see what he meant, Ron thought. He’s not dangerous, just loud.

Merlon had mentioned a “blue crescent-shaped mark,” and Ron knew exactly what he was referring to. He had seen it before on Leon’s shoulder.

“A crescent-shaped blue mark,” Ron said calmly.

Shima smiled at his response, while Merlon’s face contorted in disbelief.

“Is that the genetic proof you’re referring to?” Ron asked, keeping his tone even.

“Y-you could have rehearsed that! If it really exists, show it!” Merlon shouted, refusing to believe the truth. The young man standing before him didn’t resemble the Brody family at all. He couldn’t accept that this stranger was his great-nephew. Despite all the signs, his instincts screamed that Ron wasn’t blood-related.

“It was on the shoulder, but after a severe injury, it’s likely unrecognizable now,” Ron replied calmly.

Merlon seized the opportunity, his voice rising, “An injury! How convenient! That’s a pathetic excuse!”

Merlon had already resigned himself to his fate, but he refused to go quietly. He would cause as much disruption as possible. The thought of the immense wealth and power of the Levass family falling into the hands of this man he had never met made him furious.

Why not me? Why?! Merlon’s bitterness festered. Growing up alongside Ethan, the rightful heir, had been a constant reminder of his own insignificance. He had always resented his station in life, feeling he deserved more.

I’m the brother of the late lord! I should be entitled to some of what my brother would have had! What’s wrong with that?

Ron stared at Merlon for a moment. He had encountered men like this many times on the continent—those who were blinded by ambition, too consumed by desire to recognize their own depravity. Without tangible proof, people like Merlon would never stop spreading doubt and whispering rumors.

“Alan,” Ron called.

Alan, who had been watching Merlon with a frown, quickly turned his attention to Ron.

“Yes, young master?” Alan replied.

Ron calmly began unbuttoning his jacket. He handed it to Alan without any sense of urgency, then removed his vest and handed that over as well. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves.

The onlookers were struck by his calm demeanor. His steady, measured actions contrasted sharply with Merlon’s frantic shouting. Many in the room were beginning to form a favorable impression of Ron, this poised and confident newcomer.

“That will do,” Shima interjected softly as Ron began to unbutton his shirt. She had seen enough to know that he was committed to showing proof.

“No, it’s important to be thorough,” Ron insisted. “My honor, and by extension yours, is at stake.”

Shima’s expression tightened as she cast a hard look at Merlon.

“It’s true that the mark has been obscured by injury,” Ron said, finally baring his back for the room to see.

Gasps echoed throughout the room, followed by a stunned silence. Even Merlon, who had been ready to spew more accusations, was left speechless.

“Enough… that’s enough,” Shima’s voice trembled as she spoke. The sight of her grandson’s scarred back, a testament to the suffering he had endured, struck her deeply. She pressed a hand to her temple, overwhelmed by the emotions surging through her.

The knights grabbed Merlon’s arms once more. This time, he didn’t resist. Whether it was because he was drained of all energy or simply out of excuses, he allowed himself to be dragged away, silent and defeated.

As Ron dressed himself again, Shima, with reddened eyes, turned to the room and spoke with authority.

“I will conduct the succession ceremony now,” she declared.

There was little surprise among the crowd. They had anticipated this moment when they saw the three mages seated on the sofa earlier.

The mages, dressed in robes of white, blue, and red, represented the White, Blue, and Red Towers. In Haran, mages were required to act as witnesses to any significant contract or event. For something as important as the succession of a great family, the law required at least three mages from different towers to oversee the proceedings.

“If anyone wishes to object, do so now,” Shima warned. “I will not tolerate any complaints afterward.”

No one spoke. Merlon’s outburst had only solidified the outcome, and everyone knew better than to challenge Shima’s decision after seeing her unwavering resolve. Shima had been a stern and capable leader of the Levass family, and no one wanted to be on the receiving end of her judgment.

Shima turned to Luther, who stood ready.

“Is everything prepared?” she asked.

“Yes, my Lady,” Luther replied.

“Then begin.”

The three mages rose from their seats and took their places near Shima’s bedside, ready to observe the ceremony and ensure it followed the proper legal and magical protocols.

The butler exited the room briefly and returned with several officiants dressed in white. Each carried a silver dish filled with a clear liquid on a silver tray.

The eldest officiant placed the tray on the bedside table before Shima. At her gesture, the officiant pricked her finger with a long needle, drawing a single drop of blood. Shima turned her hand, allowing the drop to fall into the dish.

Ron watched the process with curiosity. He had never seen anything like it before.

They really do call this the Magic Empire… he thought. People from the continent often exaggerated, saying everything in Haran was done through magic. While that was an overstatement, it was clear that things were done very differently here.

The drop of blood spread out in the liquid, swirling and turning in circles. A faint glow began to emanate from the dish as the liquid turned completely red and formed into a distinct shape. Gradually, it elongated into the form of a quill, floating in midair.

Shima grasped the quill.

The officiant placed a large piece of parchment, stretched and secured on a rectangular board, onto the table. Shima quickly glanced at the parchment and then signed her name in bold, red letters. As she completed the signature, the quill dissolved from the top down, disappearing into the parchment until it was fully absorbed.