The Song of Flowers - Chapter 5: The Only Ones for Each Other (4)

 “…I don’t know. After we parted ways, I lost contact,” Ron said, his tone heavy with regret.

Ron and Julio had fled the count’s estate in the Saul Kingdom and escaped to the city-state of Denver. There, Ron had spent all the money he’d earned to hire a renowned information broker to investigate the events that had taken place at the estate.

When they parted, neither Ron nor Julio had revealed their destinations to each other, in case they were being pursued.

If we’re both alive, we’ll meet again one day. Survive, Ron. Survive at all costs, Julio had said.

Julio had even contributed to the hefty fee Ron paid for the investigation. Without his help, Ron wouldn’t have been able to afford it.

“I see… I had hoped to speak with him again someday,” Deborah said, her voice tinged with disappointment.

“Did your investigation go well?” Ron asked, curious.

“In the end, it did. A large organization that had been trafficking people across borders was destroyed,” Deborah said.

“I wasn’t aware of that.”

“It was a big deal. How did you not hear about it?”

“I was preoccupied at the time,” Ron admitted. He and Julio had traveled in secrecy, focused only on escaping and gathering information.

“Well, it worked out for many people. No more innocent lives will be lost. But to be honest, I was more concerned with something else. A lot of people died at that count’s estate, and something about it seemed… off,” Deborah said, her tone serious.

A flicker of recognition passed through Ron’s eyes.

“I’ve talked too much, especially to someone as busy as you. I suppose I’m just feeling lost after saying goodbye to my friend,” Deborah said, preparing to conclude the conversation. But Ron spoke up urgently.

“Great Sage, could you tell me more about what happened at the count’s estate?”

Deborah looked at him, puzzled.

“The mercenary group I was with lost many men there. Was it in the Saul Kingdom?” Ron asked.

“Yes. What exactly happened there?” Deborah asked, now equally curious.

“That’s what I want to know,” Ron said, his voice hollow with frustration.

“All I have are some pieces of evidence recovered from the site,” Deborah said.

“Evidence?” Ron asked, his attention sharpening.

“I can’t explain it now. The investigation is still ongoing.”

“Once it’s complete, would you show me the evidence?” Ron asked, his tone filled with desperation.

Deborah hesitated. The evidence was tightly controlled, and while she had the authority to share it, she didn’t want to abuse that power.

“It may not be of much help to you…”

“Please, even the smallest clue would be valuable. Many people died in that incident,” Ron said, his voice thick with emotion.

Deborah couldn’t refuse a request made with such sincerity. Despite her efforts to remain objective, she was still human, and Ron was her friend’s grandson.

“All right. Once the investigation is complete, I’ll send the evidence to you,” she agreed.

“Thank you, Great Sage,” Ron said, bowing his head in gratitude.

***

When Adele woke up, the sun was already high in the sky.

Grandmother’s no longer by my side.

She had endured for so long without her grandmother, who had been unconscious for some time. But knowing that she would never see her again was entirely different. It felt final, crushing.

Tears began to flow again. Lying in bed, Adele cried until her pillowcase was soaked.

“Miss,” Mel’s voice came from beside the bed. Her eyes were swollen from crying. Mel was emotional—quick to laugh and quick to cry. She had always taken Adele’s troubles as her own, sometimes getting angry on her behalf. When Mel cursed Stella, Adele would remind her to be careful with her words, but inside, she felt a bit relieved by her loyalty. But today, Mel’s tears offered no comfort.

Mel doesn’t understand.

How could she? Mel didn’t know what it felt like to lose someone so precious, nor could she comprehend the deep, overwhelming loneliness that came with the loss. It felt as if Adele had been dropped into a strange, foreign world, utterly alone.

When Mel called her name again, Adele didn’t respond. She closed her eyes, pretending to sleep, and turned her back on the world.

Mel sniffled beside her for a while, then quietly left the room. But she soon returned, calling Adele softly again, thinking she might be asleep. Throughout the day, Mel came and went, but Adele didn’t answer. She didn’t want to face anyone or anything.

“Miss, you need to eat something,” Mel said, her voice now filled with anxiety. Evening had come, and Adele hadn’t touched a drop of water or food.

Mel had been summoned by Matilda, the head housekeeper, earlier in the day to hear the doctor’s instructions. Given Adele’s young body, they were to watch for any signs of shock or distress and report immediately.

“Miss, are you awake? Please, open your eyes. Aren’t you hungry? I made your favorite milk soup.”

Adele heard every word but didn’t react. She had no desire to eat, no desire to do anything. Her body felt heavy, drained.

Eventually, Mel stopped talking and left the room again. She’s finally given up, Adele thought, relieved.

“Adele.”

The low, soft voice startled her. She opened her eyes to see the man with blue hair standing beside her bed, looking down at her. He sat down at the edge of the bed, and as she met his violet eyes, her emotions surged uncontrollably. Her chest tightened, and tears welled up again. She buried her face in her pillow, crying softly.

“You need to eat something,” he said.

“…”

“At least drink some water.”

“I don’t want to eat,” she whispered.

She couldn’t ignore him as she had Mel. He was now the highest authority in Levas Castle.

“I heard you haven’t eaten all day. Sit up,” he said.

“No,” she refused.

“Stop being stubborn.”

“Just leave me alone. It’s none of your business,” Adele muttered.

“It is my business. I’ve taken over your grandmother’s role as your legal guardian,” he replied.

Adele’s eyes widened in disbelief before she sighed deeply. Once again, everything was happening without her consent.

“I’m sorry. I’ll properly greet you and show my respect later, then,” she said bitterly.

Legal guardian? Such a cold, formal term. It couldn’t possibly define the relationship she had with her grandmother. It felt so distant, impersonal.

Adele turned her back to him, lying on her side.

Ron stared at her small back for a moment before he chuckled quietly. If what Deborah had said about her condition was true, Adele certainly wasn’t a typical child. She knew how to be defiant.

“Sit up. I won’t ask again.”

Adele remained still, stubbornly ignoring him.

Ron wasn’t the type to indulge childish tantrums. Without hesitation, he reached out, gently but firmly grabbing her shoulder and pulling her up, slipping his arm under her to lift her from the bed.

“Stop! Let go!” Adele twisted her body in the opposite direction, trying to break free. She fought against the pressure, but Ron’s grip didn’t loosen.

“I said, stop! Don’t touch me!” she yelled, struggling fiercely. She hated the feeling of being overpowered, of her strength being useless. She was weak, a child, and the physical restraint reminded her of that helplessness—a feeling she detested.

Her anger toward him, for disregarding her wishes, and her frustration at her own powerlessness drove her to an emotional edge.

“Let me go! I hate this!” she screamed, flailing her arms and kicking her legs. But her attempts to resist were futile. Ron held her in place with ease, his voice cold as he snapped at her.

“Stop throwing a tantrum. Do you even realize how childish you’re being?”

Adele, in the middle of hitting and clawing at his arms, froze. She glared up at him with fury, her blue eyes blazing. His violet eyes remained calm, almost indifferent.

“If you act like a seven-year-old, I’ll treat you like one,” he said bluntly.

Her lips trembled. He knew. He knew about her condition. A wave of shame and anger swept over her. How strange she must seem to him—a girl nearing adulthood but trapped in a child’s body. How could he not find it odd?

“Children cry and throw fits because they don’t know how to express their thoughts. What about you?” he asked, his voice steady and firm.

Adele turned her head away, refusing to look at him. His words stung, even though they weren’t wrong. Sometimes, the truth hurt more than a lie.

As Adele calmed down, Ron released his grip and stepped back. She quickly moved away from him, retreating to the farthest edge of the bed, as if to put as much distance between them as possible.

Ron gave a small, exasperated smile and gestured for Mel, who had been standing nearby, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes. She approached nervously, carrying a tray with soup and water, unsure of what to make of the situation. Mel had never seen Adele so emotional, nor had she witnessed such a side of the new lord. He was far more intimidating than she had initially thought.

Ron picked up the glass of water and handed it to Adele.

“Drink,” he said.

Adele took the glass and drank. The water felt bitter as it slid down her throat, quenching her parched mouth. When she finished, she stared at the empty cup in her hand, a surge of frustration rising inside her. Without thinking, she hurled the glass across the room, watching as it shattered on the floor.

What have I done? Her hands trembled as the realization of her actions set in.

She had always tried to be a good child, the kind her grandmother would be proud of. She had never faked her behavior—she truly loved her grandmother and wanted to make her happy. But sometimes, deep inside, she felt sadness and anger about her unchanging state. Though she knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault, she longed to blame someone.

But she had never let those feelings show. Until now.

He must be so disappointed in me, she thought, expecting him to scold her.

“Well done,” Ron said calmly.

Adele thought he was mocking her.

Ron dismissed Mel, and after she left the room, he placed the tray with the soup in front of Adele.

“You can throw this too if you want,” he added.

Adele blinked in disbelief and turned to look at him. There was no hint of sarcasm in his expression.

“Are you serious?”

“Want me to bring you more things to break?”

“Are you… mad at me?”

“No. Why would I be?”

“…I’m sorry. I was just taking out my anger. What I did was pathetic.”

Ron watched her closely, his expression thoughtful.

Extreme emotions could be a powerful motivator, he knew. Hatred and anger toward others had once given him the drive to keep going, just as his desire for revenge had fueled him after losing his brother. If necessary, he was prepared to play the villain to ignite that fire in her. After all, provoking pride was a simple task.

But seeing how her anger had deflated so quickly, he changed his approach.

If the stick wasn’t needed, then the carrot would suffice.

“On the last day of the funeral, there will be a memorial service,” he said, softening his tone.

“…I know,” Adele replied quietly, nodding. The memorial service was meant to guide the deceased’s soul.

Adele had learned about funeral customs months ago during the service for Paul, the late heir. His body had been recovered after a landslide, though it had taken some time to retrieve. Shima had been in a coma during his funeral, so it had been a quiet, family-only affair.

“I’ll make sure you’re able to attend the service,” Ron said.

“Really?” Adele’s eyes widened in surprise.

She hadn’t been allowed to attend Paul’s service. According to tradition, only family and vassals were permitted to be present. She had wanted to be there for Paul’s final farewell, but her request had been denied, likely due to interference from Stella. There was nothing Adele could do at the time.

“The ceremony takes half a day, so you’ll need your strength,” Ron added.

Adele glanced down at the soup, then back at him.

“Promise me. You won’t go back on your word,” she said, her voice filled with resolve.

“I won’t lie about something like that,” Ron reassured her.