The Song of Flowers - Chapter 5: The Only Ones for Each Other (3)

Ron had become the legal successor, but few people even knew of his existence. Luther was advising him to use the funeral as a chance to solidify his position.

Ron gazed at Shima for a moment before replying.

“I won’t break tradition.”

He had no desire to use the mourning period for political gain. Even if it was hypocritical, he would rather be a hypocrite for now.

“It will be a family funeral, and we won’t receive outside guests. You will oversee the arrangements,” Ron said.

“Yes… my lord,” Luther replied.

Ron’s fingers twitched slightly. The shift in the room’s atmosphere was palpable. Though Ron had completed the succession process, everyone had continued addressing him as “young master” out of respect, as long as Shima was alive.

In most great families, the succession process was completed while the head of the family was still alive, allowing the former lord to formally pass on the title. Now, with Shima’s death, Ron had officially become the head of the Levas family.

A new era had begun for Levas. The people in the room, despite their grief, couldn’t help but wonder what direction the young, energetic new lord would take the family. They were mourning, but within their hearts, a sense of anticipation stirred.

Ron asked a few more questions about the funeral arrangements, and Luther answered each one. Partway through the conversation, Ron paused and turned his head. The others followed his gaze.

Adele had just entered the room, her face as pale as a sheet.

She stood frozen, unable to move, her entire body trembling.

Feeling someone take her hand, Adele turned her head to see that Ron had approached her and was gently pulling her forward. In a daze, she allowed herself to be led to the bedside. The few steps felt like an eternity.

Standing by the bed, she looked down at Shima, who appeared to be peacefully sleeping.

‘She’s not just sleeping.’

“…Grandmother?” Adele whispered, lifting Shima’s hand with both of hers. Her hands shook so badly that she dropped it, watching in horror as her grandmother’s hand fell limply back onto the bed.

“No… no…”

She cupped Shima’s face with both hands, but there was no response. Just earlier that day, they had eaten dinner together, laughing as they reminisced about old memories. It felt like any moment now, her grandmother would wake up and smile at her.

“No, please… Grandmother, don’t do this… Grandmother!” Adele cried, her voice breaking into a sob.

Her wail filled the room.

Perhaps Adele was the only one there who truly mourned Shima’s death, unaffected by the larger implications for the Levas family or what the future might hold. To her, nothing mattered but the loss of her grandmother.

She clung to Shima’s body, weeping uncontrollably. The raw, unrestrained grief of the young girl touched everyone in the room. Those who had been silently shedding tears now began to cry aloud, their sorrow filling the chamber.

After some time had passed, Ron quietly spoke to Luther, who nodded and ushered everyone out of the room. Now, only Adele’s sobs remained, echoing through the empty space.

***

Adele wasn’t sure how long she had cried. Her head throbbed painfully, and though she no longer made a sound, tears continued to stream down her face as she lay slumped over the bed, drained. She had anticipated this moment in the back of her mind, but it had come too suddenly. She wasn’t prepared. Now, she was completely alone.

“…Exhaustion… she needs to calm down…” A voice spoke softly behind her, but the words barely registered.

Someone touched her shoulder, gently lifting her up. Adele wanted to tell them not to bother, that she didn’t want to be moved, but she couldn’t muster the strength to speak. Her body felt limp, and as she was raised to her feet, she collapsed, falling toward the ground.

Will it hurt when I hit the floor? she wondered vaguely. But before she could fall, a strong pair of arms caught her, and her vision faded to black.

Ron cradled Adele’s limp body in his arms. He carried her to the sofa, where the physician immediately examined her.

“She’s fainted from exhaustion,” the physician said.

“The shock must have been overwhelming,” Deborah added softly, stepping forward. She placed her hand gently on Adele’s chest. A soft glow emanated from her hand, wrapping around Adele’s body before fading away.

“I’ve helped her sleep more soundly,” Deborah said.

“Thank you,” Ron replied.

“This child and I have a connection,” Deborah said, looking down at Adele with a sorrowful expression. She turned to Ron. “Could I speak with you for a moment? It won’t take long.”

As she gazed into Ron’s violet eyes, she was reminded of their first encounter. She hadn’t connected the dots back then—hadn’t imagined that the mercenary she’d met on the continent was linked to the Levas family, known for their violet eyes. After all, it seemed improbable that a mercenary would be connected to a great house.

“Yes, Great Sage,” Ron said, instructing the steward to take Adele to her room. He followed Deborah to a more private space, where the two could speak alone.

Though it was rare for the lord to meet privately with someone, a mage was an exception. In Haran, mages maintained strict neutrality and could not involve themselves in the politics of the great houses. This principle had been upheld since the founding of Haran, ensuring the objectivity and independence of the mages.

“It’s been a long time. I didn’t expect we’d meet again like this,” Deborah said.

“…Yes.”

“Your grandmother and I were close friends. Don’t mind if I speak casually,” she added, noting his hesitation.

“I don’t mind at all. Please, speak as you wish.”

“Is your past a secret? If you prefer, I won’t mention our meeting on the continent to anyone,” Deborah offered. That was why she hadn’t acknowledged him publicly before.

“My past as a mercenary isn’t something I’m ashamed of,” Ron said calmly. “I never did anything dishonorable, and I won’t deny that part of my life.”

“That’s an admirable outlook,” Deborah said, feeling a sense of relief that Ron wasn’t a person of questionable character.

“I had no idea you were Shima’s grandson. The world is truly unpredictable,” she mused. She hadn’t realized how much had changed in her year away from the continent, nor had she known about the grave events in her friend’s life. Despite their long friendship, their positions—one as the head of a great family, the other as a Great Sage—had made it difficult to openly maintain their bond.

Deborah had been away for much of the last year, and Shima, out of respect for her friend, hadn’t sent personal messages. Letters informing Deborah of the situation had been mixed in with mundane correspondence, left unread in her study.

Though it was late, Deborah was grateful she’d been able to have one final conversation with Shima and be present for her passing.

“The reason I asked to speak with you is because of Adele,” Deborah continued. It wasn’t the Levas family’s future that had concerned Shima in her final moments—it was Adele.

“What do you intend to do with Adele?” Deborah asked.

“I don’t understand your question,” Ron replied, confused.

“Adele is not the lord’s biological granddaughter. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“You’re not obligated to care for her. If you don’t want to, I can take her with me,” Deborah offered.

“Shima entrusted her to me,” Ron said firmly.

“But did she have time to explain Adele’s situation to you? Adele is nineteen years old. Did you know that?”

“Nineteen…?” Ron’s voice wavered for the first time.

“That girl has a condition—she doesn’t age physically,” Deborah explained.

Suddenly, Adele’s mature demeanor and her expressions made more sense to Ron.

“She will need constant care. It’s not enough to provide her with material comfort. Your grandmother treated Adele like her own daughter, nurturing her with deep affection. Are you prepared to do the same?”

“I can’t fully replace her, but I will do my best. However, it seems the Great Sage doubts my ability to care for her,” Ron said, his voice tinged with frustration.

Deborah studied Ron for a moment before sighing softly.

“You’re young,” she said. Deborah understood Shima’s concerns now. Ron was young, unmarried, and attractive. The social circles of the eastern region wouldn’t leave a man like him alone for long.

“In the near future, you’ll likely marry and have a family of your own. When that happens, Adele’s place in your life will become unclear. Sooner or later, she’ll become a burden to you.”

“You’re judging me based on a future that hasn’t even happened yet,” Ron said, his voice growing colder. The idea irritated him. He had promised Shima, and keeping that promise was the only way he could alleviate the guilt weighing on him. To Ron, a promise was sacred.

“I gave her my word. I will not break that promise,” Ron declared.

Deborah’s expression turned somber. Ron’s resolute stance seemed reassuring, yet part of her still doubted him.

“What about asking Adele directly?” Ron suggested. “She should decide for herself.”

“You’re saying we should let Adele choose?”

“Her wishes are the most important.”

“Fair enough. We can’t decide her future without hearing what she wants. And if I’m to take her with me, I need to prepare. For now, I’ll leave her in your care.”

Ron silently thought to himself, Not just for now, but forever.

“It’s my duty,” Ron said, his voice resolute.

“Don’t be offended if it seems like I’m getting too involved. Adele is not unrelated to me, so I can’t just ignore her. I’m the one who brought her to Levas Castle, though she doesn’t remember that,” Deborah said.

“Adele knows she isn’t the lord’s biological granddaughter,” Ron replied.

“She only learned that because of certain events… It’s best that you know everything about Adele. She’s originally from the continent. I found her by chance and saved her,” Deborah said, recalling the vivid memory, even though it had happened years ago. It was the first time she had encountered such a brutal event on the continent.

At the time, Deborah had been traveling across the continent, collecting rare herbs. She had heard of a remote mountain village known for cultivating valuable medicinal plants in large quantities. Her curiosity about the village’s unique ecosystem, combined with her need for the herbs, led her to visit the area. What she hadn’t expected was to witness a horrific crime.

“They weren’t villagers—they were mercenaries who had been hired to guard a merchant caravan trading with the village. They admitted to kidnapping Adele after seeing her by chance,” Deborah explained.

“Human traffickers,” Ron said grimly, the possibility of such a threat having crossed his mind when he first met Adele.

“As you know, child trafficking is rampant on the continent,” Deborah said.

“I’m aware,” Ron replied, his voice steady. He had served in mercenary groups, but at least the ones he had been part of weren’t involved in such atrocities.

“Adele lived with her mother, a single woman. But when the mercenaries tried to take Adele, her mother resisted fiercely. They beat her to death, right in front of the child,” Deborah said, her tone heavy with sorrow.

Ron’s expression darkened, his gaze hardening.

“The worst part was that the villagers allowed it to happen. Adele’s mother wasn’t quite… mentally stable. Humans can be cruel—they often crush the weak rather than protect them. Not everyone is like that, of course, but…” Deborah trailed off, clearly still shaken by the memory.

For Deborah, who had lived a life of privilege, always surrounded by rational and ethical people—mostly fellow mages—the event had been eye-opening. She had never experienced being powerless, nor had she witnessed such blatant disregard for human life. The incident had made her reevaluate humanity.

“Adele wasn’t herself for a long time after that. She displayed symptoms of autism. When I brought her to Levas Castle, she didn’t speak, and she wouldn’t respond to anything. It wasn’t until about a year later that she began talking and smiling like a normal child, thanks to Shima’s love and care,” Deborah continued.

“And when you say she doesn’t remember you…” Ron started.

“What I mean is that she doesn’t remember the terrible event from back then. I hope she never does,” Deborah said.

To avoid triggering those memories, Deborah had kept her distance from Adele, making only brief, polite contact when she visited Levas Castle. Instead, she stayed informed about Adele’s well-being through Shima.

“But it’s possible that, on some unconscious level, the trauma still affects her. I wonder if that’s why she doesn’t age,” Deborah added thoughtfully.

Ron had a different theory.

“It’s not a disease,” he said firmly. Adele’s mysterious origins, her captivating beauty, her inability to age, and the strange light he had seen surrounding her—they all pointed to something else.

He had met someone like Adele before. The thought had crossed his mind when he saw the light, but Deborah’s story now confirmed it.

A cruel twist of fate, he thought bitterly.

If some higher power was responsible for meddling in the natural order of things, Ron wanted to ask: Why me?

Adele reminded him too much of the one person he wanted to forget—his mother. Beautiful, yet trapped in tragedy, Adele bore an uncanny resemblance to her.

Deborah interrupted his thoughts. “That mage who was with you back then—would it be all right if I asked how he’s doing?”

Deborah had been impressed by the talented young mage she’d met during her travels and had often wondered about him.