The Flower Dances and the Wind Sings

Chapter 62

62.

“Alas, Young Duke. If you attended Gracivan, you would’ve been an alumnus.”

“I think it’s a shame, too.”

Ercella looked pleased with Vicente, who was talking to a boy of his age. However, she was worried that Adora could not mix with the group.

“It’s a pity that only now I got the chance to talk to Lady Zardea. I believe we’ve met at parties before.”

“Ah... indeed.”

A lot of people were talking to Adora, who had become Ercella’s lady-in-waiting, but Adora did not seem to be pleased with the attention she was getting. She seemed to be struggling to adapt to their sudden change in behavior after not being able to get along with people. However, this was a gateway that Adora herself had to pass through and Ercella could not help her. It was then.

“It’s been a while, Ella.”

A shadow fell over her head. The man in his early sixties with a pleasant smile was a person Ercella knew well.

“Uncle!”

Placing her hand on her chest, Ercella curtsied.

“Nice to meet you, Duchess Bernhardt,” Viscount Royden jokingly answered and pointed over her shoulder. “Ercella, is that fine gentleman your son?”

“He is. I’ll intro—”

Ercella smiled softly and tried to call Vicente. But Viscount Royden waved his hand.

“No need. If an old man like me joins them, it’ll ruin the mood. It’s better to talk to people my age.”

“You’re still young, though.”

“Thank you, even if they’re empty words. Anyway, I was amazed! He’s the spitting image of His Excellency, just as I’ve heard. Oh, but of course, his eyes resemble those of my lovely niece.”

Viscount Royden’s lips formed into a grin. It was a compliment that she heard often, so Ercella chuckled, not minding it.

“If he grows up taking after your husband, he’ll turn out a fine man.”

As Viscount Royden said, Vicente seemed to increasingly resemble Harsen as he grew up, perhaps not surprisingly, since they share the same blood.

‘Did Harsen look like that when he was young?’

Ercella imagined what it would have been like if she had returned to about 20 years ago, not 3 years. Even then, he was away from high society, so she could not have met him...

“Ah, right. Have you made up your mind?”

Her thoughts stopped. Although Viscount Royden did not denote anything, Ercella knew he was referring to Vicente.

Certainly, it was still uncomfortable, so she could not manage her expressions well. She could only barely answer until after she loosened the awkwardly stiffened muscles of her mouth.

“Oh... I have.”

Satisfied by the answer, Viscount Royden gave Ercella an appeased smile.

“You’ve made a good decision. I understand it was hard to decide, but it’s not good to be too fastidious. After all, you’re his mother.”

Countless words flashed through her mind at Viscount Royden’s words.

‘You’re a mother...’

‘Because you’re his mother...’

‘Yes... What’s so hard about it?’

‘It’s your baby! I! You have no idea! No idea how much I—!’

A sharp sound, like that of glass breaking, awakened her mind. The image of the woman looming over her mind faded like a fog.

“I believe Her Late Majesty would be proud of you, as well.”

Remnants of the past revived at those words. A tearful cry that rips not the ears, but the heart apart, seemed to reverberate in her head.

“Really?”

“Of course. You should steel your heart and live well to honor Eshahilde.”

‘My sister...’

Ercella could not get an answer even if she asked her. She erased the memories of her sister. She could not afford to stretch out her thoughts there. Ercella had decided that the mourning period was over for her in the last life. Her sister would understand if Ercella did not feel sad anymore.

“I guess His Excellency didn’t come.”

Searching for Harsen, Viscount Royden looked everywhere. The sight of his absence suddenly made her guts twist. Ercella snapped bitterly at Viscount Royden, “He hasn’t changed at all.”

He doesn’t like going to this sort of thing.

It was a subtly discontented tone, but Viscount Royden calmly accepted her words, as if he had not noticed.

“Well, I imagine he’d get tired going back and forth. He isn’t even the type that enjoys flattery.”

What’s so bad about flattery?

“You’re right.” She sounded rather dubious.

A warm smile flashed across his lips, “These days, he’s been busy with the matters of the Knights Order.”

“The Knights Order?” Ercella asked back. She knew Harsen was busy, but the words ‘these days’ caught her attention.Fôllôw new stories at novelhall.com

“Yes, although this time it’s because of your brother. Caron has petitioned His Majesty to increase the number of troops.”

“Increasing the number of troops..?”

“Ah, but don’t misunderstand. I’m not talking about active soldiers, but the royal guards. A horrific incident that plagued the rural areas has recently also happened in the capital, so no wonder he’s worried.”

Viscount Royden seemed to have misunderstood what Ercella was concerned about.

“So my brother...did that.”

Ercella thought of Caron. As promised, Caron had asked the king for reinforcements. And it must have been to prepare for the conflict with Conrad, not to convict countryside criminals.

“Some criticized him for being excessive, but...military power can be used in many ways, so I don’t think it’s a terrible idea.”

From her uncle’s words, she could see that people did not look at Caron’s intentions thoroughly. Uncle Royden, as well.

There was no way a mere criminal could shake the foundation of a country in the first place. The king and aristocrats who grew up privileged due to their noble roots would not feel threatened by such people.

“Don’t do that. Just indulge me a little bit. You’re no different from the rest of us.”

‘Right.’ Caron thought.

When was the last time Dartner’s blood was mixed in Visaride? It was so long ago that now the blood was so diluted that there was no trace of it left.

Even the Marchioness would not know about it. It was nothing more than a figure of speech at this point.

“I’ve always been honest, Madam.”

The Marchioness smiled only with her lips. Her eyes remained in place.

Caron shrugged, finding her annoying, “The Duke has never been one to casually give details to me.”

“That’s right, but...”

Caron’s words were not wrong, so the Marchioness could not deny it.

“He’s a mysterious man. I thought he would marry Princess Hermia... Erm, would this be rude as the Duchess’s brother?”

“If you felt that way, I’m sure you already know my answer.”

“Oh my. Because the winner is the Duchess after all. No worries.”

“The winner... I wonder.”

At Caron’s vague answer the Marchioness snorted inwardly. Who was it that coaxed the king into marrying Princess Hermia to Ludelsia’s royal family? It was this man. I haven’t a clue why a country with that obsolete ideology welcomed her as their princess, but who knew that the sole direct descent of the royal family would be sold off as a symbol of peace between the two countries.

“If the Marquis thinks so, so be it.” Nevertheless, unobtrusively, she moved on to a new topic of discussion like a flowing stream. Since her real purpose behind it was this.

“More than that, I’m very worried about His Highness Alexis.”

When the name of the prince, who was growing quietly in the palace, was mentioned, fatigue brushed over Caron’s face.

“It is bold of someone such as me to presume His Majesty’s intentions... Still, the prince is His Majesty’s sole heir, but to appoint a commoner as His Highness’s nanny? I’ve been sending appeals for months, but they have yet to be answered...” Marchioness Dartner threw up a tirade.

Sure enough, the king designating the prince a nanny, and a commoner one at that had been a controversial topic for a long time.

“I couldn’t refute His Majesty’s decision. After all, Visaride will always follow His Majesty’s will.”

“I don’t disagree with the Marquis’s thoughts, but that’s not my point. His Highness is the only prince birthed by Queen Eshahilde.”

A prince’s nanny was usually an aristocrat, so the Marchioness had a point. Furthermore, Prince Alexis lost his mother at birth. Even if she could not be of equal standing as his mother, the proper way would have been to appoint a woman as a nanny who would not hamper him.

Yet, the king chose a maid from the queen’s bedroom. The position of nanny possesses the greatest influence on the little prince as she rears him in his childhood. Such a position, to a mere maid?

“I’m sure there were better options... Shame.”

While the Marchioness lowered her gaze to wipe her tearful eyes wet with sorrow, Caron’s face was stained with boredom.

She wanted him to protest against the king over the nanny. But Caron also knew that the king would not appoint a woman selected by him as the nanny. The Marchioness wanted a chance to elevate her eldest daughter, Eshahilde’s lady-in-waiting, as the prince’s nanny.

“However, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Dartner was not bad of an option, but he didn’t want to be used, so Caron pulled away. Besides, now he did not want the conversation to drag for long. That made the Marchioness nervous.

Surely, she knew that a lot could be done if this guy wanted to. Yet, he won’t budge.

The Marchioness nervously folded her fan. She could not express her anger to the Marquis, so angry sparks bounced off to the wrong place.

“It’s all because of that woman. I heard His Majesty recently has been sleeping in her chamber again, she must’ve incited—”

The frightening air shut the Marchioness’s mouth.

‘Ah.’

She looked at the green eyes that had cooled off in an instant and realized that she had made a mistake.

“I don’t know what you mean.” At Caron’s dismissal, the corners of the Marchioness’s lips curled up with great difficulty.

“I’m saying weird things since I’m tired. I’ve been worrying a lot these days, so I unconsciously do this sometimes.”

Caron smiled quietly. It was a very gentle smile, but she felt an eerie sense of detachment from it. She aimed for her exit when a young-looking boy approached them.

“Father, there you are!”

The boy resembled Marquis Visaride, but had a more docile air to him. It was Racellion, the eldest son of Visaride.

Racellion flawlessly greeted Marchioness Dartner, “Oh, Father was talking to someone important. Greetings, Marchioness Dartner. Forgive my rudeness for interrupting your pleasant time.”

“You didn’t interrupt us at all, Young Lord. Rather, I apologize for holding on to someone busy. Would the Marquis consider it just an old lady’s chatter?”

“As a gentleman, how could I not listen to a lady? It was a pleasant time for me, Madam,” Caron replied like a gentleman. Racellion noticed the strained air between the two but remained silent.

“But what’s the matter?”

“Oh, Aunt Ercella is here.”

“She’s late.”

“Didn’t we come too early?”

“Anyway, you’re happy since you get to see Lady Heritt, aren’t you?”

“That’s true, but...”

“Then it’s all right.”

Racellion scratched the back of his head in shyness. Caron patted Racellion on the head. It was a rough touch, but Racellion’s cheeks reddened by the occasional expressions of affection. “F-father, are you going to see Aunt?”

“I should,” Caron affirmed and looked back at the Marchioness, “I’m afraid I’ll have to go now, Marchioness.”

Marchioness Dartner sent him off with a warm voice.

“I guess, you still maintain good relations with the Duchess. It’s nice to see that.”

“Because we’re family.” Like a habit, his answer flowed without hesitation.

Caron turned his back.

* * *

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