The Song of Flowers - Chapter 5: The Only Ones for Each Other (2)

Suddenly, Adele felt herself being pulled by a strong, irresistible force. It was as if she was being sucked into something, and she couldn’t fight it.

‘What’s happening?!’ Adele thought, momentarily dizzy.

When she came to, she found herself staring into Deborah’s green eyes. She realized she had somehow returned to her younger self, as if her consciousness had reentered her body. She instinctively knew that this was her own body, and that for some reason, her awareness had temporarily left it before returning.

“Come with me,” Deborah said.

“It’s safe,” a voice echoed in Adele’s mind. She wasn’t sure if it was someone else’s voice or her own inner thoughts. Adele stared at Deborah for a moment, then slowly nodded.

Adele opened her eyes.

‘My room.’

She glanced around, confirming the familiar surroundings of her bedroom. Her heart was still racing from the vivid memory. She lay there, staring at the ceiling.

‘Was it a dream? No… that was a memory from the past.’

Little by little, memories began to surface. After leaving that room with Deborah, Adele had traveled with her for a while. It had been a quiet, peaceful journey. During that time, Adele remained in a near-catatonic state, barely reacting to anything around her.

She vaguely remembered what it had felt like back then—everything she saw and heard seemed distant, as if it wasn’t really happening to her. Her mind had been clouded, like it was trapped in a thick fog, making it impossible to think clearly.

At the end of the journey, Deborah had brought Adele to Levas Castle, where she had met her grandmother.

‘So it was the Great Sage who brought me here.’

Adele replayed the conversation she had overheard in the dream, between Deborah and the other mage.

‘I’m originally from the continent…’

It was clear that something terrible had happened to her before Deborah found her. Adele suspected that the trauma had caused her memory loss.

‘Maybe I lost my memories because of the shock from whatever happened back then…’

Even now, Adele couldn’t recall anything from her early childhood.

‘If anyone knows the truth, it’s the Great Sage. Maybe if I ask her, she can tell me who my real parents are and where I was born.’

Adele sat up, lost in thought.

“Miss!” Mel’s voice startled her. Adele looked up as Mel rushed to her bedside.

“Miss, what happened?!” Mel asked, her voice filled with concern.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you remember? A stranger carried you back to your room.”

“Oh…”

“He had blue hair and looked very impressive,” Mel continued excitedly.

“That man brought me here?” Adele asked.

“Yes! Miss, wasn’t he the new heir the lord had been searching for?” Mel asked eagerly.

Adele nodded, and Mel gasped in delight, her face full of excitement.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed, her eyes shining with curiosity. She clearly wanted to hear all the details, but Adele shyly avoided her gaze.

‘I don’t really have much to tell…’

Adele’s face grew warm with embarrassment.

‘He must’ve thought I was pathetic.’

She couldn’t stop thinking about how he must have felt, finding her asleep like that. It was probably baffling to him.

“I came to bring you some happy news, but you’re keeping secrets from me, Miss!” Mel pouted, clearly feeling left out.

“Happy news?” Adele asked.

“The Lord has sent a message. He’s invited you to dinner. Just the two of you, to share a quiet, intimate meal,” Mel replied with a smile.

“Really?” Adele’s face lit up with joy as she pulled Mel into a sudden hug. Mel’s body stiffened for a moment in surprise.

“Our young lady seems really happy,” Mel said, laughing as she hugged her back. It was rare for her usually reserved mistress to show such affection, and Mel felt touched that Adele had opened up to her a little more.

At first, when Mel was assigned as Adele’s personal maid and sent to the southern tower, she had been full of concerns. Adele was said to be deeply cherished by the lord and afflicted with a mysterious illness that prevented her from growing. Mel had assumed Adele would be haughty and demanding.

But the moment she saw her, Mel had been struck by how beautiful her young mistress was. She had thought that with such beauty, even a difficult personality would be forgivable. In fact, she expected Adele to have a difficult nature.

Yet, to her surprise, Adele was kind and mature. She didn’t throw tantrums or act on whims. She was independent and handled small tasks on her own without needing much help. As time passed, Mel grew more and more fond of her.

‘I wish Miss would smile like this every day,’ Mel thought, her heart warmed by such a simple wish.

***

An elderly woman in a white robe carefully examined a dark, ominous-looking stone.

“What do you think, Great Sage?” asked the person standing nearby.

“Where did this come from?” Deborah, the Great Sage, inquired.

“There was a territorial war in the Saul Kingdom, in a count’s estate. A lot of people died, and this was retrieved during the cleanup afterward.”

Deborah looked at the stone again, turning it over in her hands, then shook her head.

“It’s unclear. It feels like there’s a trace of dark magic, but it’s faint. Dark energy exists naturally to some extent, especially in places where many lives were lost.”

“So, it’s not dark magic?” the person asked.

Deborah fell into thought. Ever since rumors of dark magic resurfaced on the continent, the Mage Tower had been sending mages to investigate discreetly. Deborah’s magical sensitivity to dark magic had made her the head of the investigation, spending much of her time on the continent over the past decade. Though it had delayed her personal research, she felt no complaints, understanding the gravity of the situation.

The investigation had been extensive, with significant resources spent, yet nothing concrete had been uncovered. There were always suspicious signs here and there, but nothing definitive enough to act upon.

The best-case scenario was that they were overreacting. The worst-case scenario was that dark magic had advanced so much that it left no trace.

“I’ll take this and examine it further,” Deborah decided.

“Ah, are you returning to the Mage Tower?” the person asked.

“Yes, I think it’s time I returned to Haran.”

After nearly a year away, Deborah made her way back to her homeland of Haran.

Haran housed six Mage Towers, and Deborah belonged to the White Tower, where she held the title of Great Sage—signifying the most powerful mage within the tower. Though it wasn’t a position of political power, it served as a symbol of authority and wisdom among mages.

Upon her return to the tower, Deborah headed straight to her personal laboratory at the top. A small room inside, containing her most valuable books and research materials, remained securely locked, accessible only through her magic. She had no concerns about intruders.

Sitting down on the sofa, she pulled a basket of letters toward her, sorting through the mail that had arrived during her absence.

“Hm, they held a symposium at the Grand Hall last month. The topic sounds interesting…” she mused, deciding she should request the presentation materials later.

As she casually flipped through the envelopes, Deborah’s hand paused. The insignia stamped on one of the envelopes belonged to the Levas family.

“What’s this about?” she muttered.

Deborah opened the letter, and as she read it, her expression grew grave.

“This can’t be.”

She shot to her feet, her hands glowing with concentrated magic. Chanting a spell, she traced a specific pattern in the air with her glowing fingers. Her body became enveloped in a radiant light, and within moments, the light consumed her entirely. A powerful, silent explosion of brightness filled the room, and when the light faded, Deborah had vanished without a trace.

***

Ron had not fallen into a deep sleep, so when he heard his name being called, he woke immediately. The bedroom door was halfway open, and the light from the hallway spilled into the dark room. A shadowy figure stood at the doorway.

“What is it?” Ron asked.

“The lord… he…” The man didn’t finish his sentence before Ron jumped out of bed. He rushed past the messenger, paying no attention to the fact that he was barefoot and still in his nightclothes, and ran to the lord’s chambers.

Outside the lord’s room, servants had gathered, their faces somber. They parted to let Ron through as he walked slowly into the room. The atmosphere was stiflingly quiet. At the bedside stood the attending physician and nurse, their hands clasped respectfully, while a mage in a white robe sat by Shima’s side, holding her hand.

When the mage turned to meet Ron’s gaze, both were startled.

“You…” Deborah’s lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but she stood up instead. This was not the time to express surprise over an unexpected reunion. Ron gave her a brief nod and stepped toward the bed, where Shima lay breathing heavily. Just hours ago, she had commanded the room with her presence, but now she looked frail and weary.

Ron sat down beside her and took her wrinkled hand in his. He held it in silence for a long time.

Shima slowly opened her eyes. Her purple irises, once sharp and full of vitality, now seemed unfocused and weak.

Her lips moved slightly, and Ron leaned in close to hear her whisper.

“Adele… take care of her… make her happy…”

The words were fragmented, but Ron understood her meaning. He met her gaze and tightened his grip on her hand, silently promising to fulfill her last request.

Shima’s lips curved into a gentle smile, and after a deep exhale, her eyes gazed into the distance.

“I want to rest now,” she said clearly, her voice strong enough for everyone in the room to hear.

The faint pressure of her hand in Ron’s disappeared. It felt as though her spirit had left her body. Ron gripped her hand tighter, as if trying to hold on to her as she slipped away. He knew he would never forget the sensation of that moment.

Shima’s face remained peaceful, her lips still curled in a serene smile.

It was strange. Ron had only met her today, yet he felt as though he had lost a pillar of strength, a profound sense of loss washing over him. He closed his eyes, fighting off a wave of dizziness.

Perhaps, in some way, Ron had been living under the illusion that he was Leon, pretending to be part of a family that wasn’t truly his. He had allowed himself to believe, even if only for a moment, that he had found a place where he belonged, where old wounds could heal.

Ron knelt beside the bed, clasping Shima’s hands in both of his, pressing his forehead to the edge of the bed as he struggled to control the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

‘I’m sorry,’ he thought.

He hadn’t been able to tell her the truth in the end. She had left this world believing a lie.

‘Don’t forgive me,’ he silently begged.

A soft sob pulled him out of his thoughts. He realized some time had passed, and when he lifted his head, he saw that more people had arrived, standing silently in the doorway, their heads bowed. Some wept quietly.

Ron stood, momentarily unsteady on his feet from having knelt so long. When a servant moved to support him, he waved them off.

“Bring Adele,” he ordered.

The steward nodded and whispered instructions to a servant, who left the room.

Ron gently released Shima’s hand and straightened the blanket over her body. She lay with her arms at her sides, her face as peaceful as if she were merely asleep.

“Master Basil, are you here?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” came a voice. It was Luther, who had stayed at the castle that night and rushed over upon hearing the news. His eyes were red and swollen from crying.

“What are the procedures for the funeral?”

“What do you think of holding a state funeral?” Luther asked, answering with another question.

Ron was puzzled by this response. “I’m asking about tradition.”

“In Levas, it is customary to hold a five-day family funeral. However, most other great families opt for a state funeral,” Luther explained.

The death of the family head was a tragedy, but it was also a time to prepare for the succession. Funerals were large events, attended by all those connected to the deceased, and even people with no direct ties would often be invited, turning the occasion into a networking opportunity.

Levas was unusual in its tradition of family funerals. Most great families held elaborate state funerals, where the successor would be introduced to a wide audience, signaling the continuity of power and respect for the previous lord.

“It would give you an opportunity to formally present yourself as the new head,” Luther suggested.