The Flower Dances and the Wind Sings

Chapter 8

After finishing their conversation, Harzen immediately got ready to return to the palace, saying that he would not come home for the night and bidding Ersella to go to sleep on her own. He must have been planning to spend the night at the palace but dropped by to resolve the matter of Vicente.

In the end, they agreed that Ersella would take care of Vicente’s education. When Ersella jumped for joy and offered blankets and snacks as he made to go out, he chided her for being too obvious, complaining that he wouldn’t need a blanket. When Ersella smiled, saying that night could still be chilly, he reluctantly handed the blanket over to his attendant before getting on the carriage.

After sending Harzen off, Ersella returned to her room to recall what just happened. Harzen never talked about his own childhood and often changed the topic, saying that there was nothing special. But if she could guess anything, it was that he wouldn’t have grown up like any other child, considering how strict the previous Duke Bernhart was.

She began to remember how the old duke was. Unfortunately, since he passed away shortly after Ersella got married to Harzen, his face was blurry in her memories. But…

“He was quite frightening,” she muttered.

“Huh? What do you mean, Your Grace?” Lianne asked.

The former duke was a hardy man. Despite his age, he had an oppressive charisma that made Ersella shudder when she first entered the home. Lianne looked at her questioningly.

“Harzen’s father,” she explained.

“Oh, the late Duke Bernhart, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“He was quite different from your father, I’d say. But why the sudden curiosity?” Lianne added that Marquess Pisarde could also be strict, which Ersella agreed with.

“It’s just… I wonder what kind of life my husband must have led,” she explained.

“Hmm, I’d say that he lived like Lord Vicente,” Lianne replied.

Like Vicente? Ersella’s face fell. “You think so? Would he have lived his life… like Vicente?” she whispered.

“I suppose it’s not something you see in every household. Marquess Karlon, for example, often came to parties even if he was the heir.”

To be fair, socializing was quite important for Karlon since he was not to be a military man but a man of culture. But Ersella did not feel the need to explain the political implications of her brother’s actions to Lianne who would only groan about how complicated the nobles were.

Her maid did not seem too interested either because she soon moved on to a different topic. “Did you have a good conversation with His Grace, by the way? I hope he wasn’t too angry.”

“Don’t worry. We decided that I would take care of Vicente’s education. And no, he did not get angry,” Ersella replied. Well, she supposed he did get a little miffed. But she smiled at Lianne comfortingly.

The maid lit up. “How wonderful! I was frightened that you might have a fight!”

“Me and Harzen? We don’t fight too often, do we?”

“Well, that’s because His Grace indulges you a lot.”

“Indulges me?!” Ersella pouted, recalling how Harzen looked at her just now, as if she was a little kid instead of his wife.

They weren’t that far apart in age either, being just three years in difference. Not paying any heed to Ersella’s pouting, Lianne continued, “It’s true that he indulges you a lot, though. Who else would meet up to your tastes and eat such greasy foods in the morning?”

“I think he just gave up.”

“Well… we’re talking about you, after all—”

“You can stop there, Lianne,” snapped Ersella, cutting her off, knowing that she was about to make a comment on how spoiled she was. Ersella jokingly glared at Lianne who was too used to her playfulness to be affected.

“By the way, Your Grace, what happened just now? Lord Vicente looked so tense. I went to you to see what was going on, and you were crying… Did your conversation go badly?” Lianne asked, prompting Ersella to recall what happened during the day.

Her face fell. Well, something big indeed happened. She had thoughtlessly told her son, the heir of a renowned military family, that he did not have to be a knight. “It’s difficult. Nothing seems to go my way,” she said.

At first, she thought she would just have to be kind to him. If she treated him kindly, despite the reactions, it would be fine. Unfortunately, she was mistaken. Her pride had prevented her from seeing just how deeply hurt the boy was from being neglected ever since he was little.

Then what should she do? Could she really overcome this by being nice to him? It was difficult—too difficult. She wished that she knew what Vicente wanted. Realizing that this was the first time she ever had such a thought, Ersella lamented how selfish she had been.

“What in the world happened?” Lianne asked, to which Ersella explained what had happened in the garden. As they hadn’t talked that much, the explanation was short, even though she repeated everything.

Lianne’s face fell as she listened. Looking uncomfortable, Lianne looked down. “I know you said it out of goodwill, but…” she muttered.

“I suppose it must not have been pleasant for someone who lived all his life to be a knight, right?” Ersella replied.

“Right. I don’t think he could have taken it in a good way considering the little interaction you had with him all this while.”

Indeed. Even though Lianne was choosing her words carefully, she also seemed to find it ridiculous. It was a simple matter of thinking about how the listener would feel. Unfortunately, Ersella had missed that.

“You’re right, Lianne...”

“There you go feeling down again,” Lianne chided.

Ersella didn’t reply and just slumped her shoulders. For some reason, Lianne found her reaction quite positive.

It was as though her lady was finally taking a step to become a parent. She was doing everything for the first time. So she made mistakes, blamed herself, and tried to grow. Ersella was yet too inexperienced and awkward to be a mother. However, Lianne preferred seeing her vulnerable like this over how she had lived as though her son did not exist.

Smiling, Lianne said, “If I may say this, Your Grace, if you do not want things to go back to what they were, everything is up to you. You have to keep trying until Lord Vicente can forgive you. You also must remember that nobody will take fault with you for putting your son before your pride. No matter how strained your relationship might be, it does not change the fact that you are his mother. Blood ties are stronger than you think— you would know this better than I do. I’m sure you could be a kind mother. Even right now, you’re trying so hard.”

Though she said it was advice, she was in fact trying to comfort and encourage Ersella. And this indeed made Ersella feel a bit better. Her maid was right. She couldn’t give up yet. She would try again and again. After all, she promised that she would be a good mother, did she not? Ersella’s determination had been renewed.

***

“Are you free today?”

“I have my lessons.” For the third time in a row, he coldly refused his mother’s approach.

Yet, she still smiled. Though other people might be dazzled by her beauty, Vicente did not like it. “After your lessons, I mean,” she said.

“I’m going to be training,” he replied.

Though she knew by now that he was blatantly turning her down, she continued to smile. Smiling even more brightly, she spoke again, “You do enough training before your lessons. Yet you’re training again? How about you take a day off?”

“How can I?”

“Resting is important as well. Oh, of course, I’m not trying to get in your way of becoming a knight. I just want you to take a break with me in the city.”

“Why the city all of a sudden—”

“So we could shop and take a stroll outside, of course. And we could dine together if time allows us.”

Vicente’s nonchalant eyes hardened. He looked at Ersella as if he were seeing something peculiar.

Yes. Just a little more, Ersella thought, congratulating herself for maintaining her smile and sweet tone all along. It was extremely embarrassing to do something she had never done before. Pretending to rest her chin on her hand, she pulled up her lips and they quivered.

“That’s—” Vicente muttered before he stopped.

Hmm? She looked at him questioningly. However, her reticent son didn’t seem to want to speak any further. Trying not to care, Ersella pulled at Vicente’s arm innocently.

“What are you…” he murmured.

“It would be nice to spend some time together, don’t you think? Well? Come on,” she pleaded.

“…”

The servants twitched as Ersella pleaded and pulled at her son’s arm as if he were her lover. Though it might be ordinary for a mother and her son, she and Vicente were far from ordinary.

Despite feeling the servants’ shocked looks, Ersella did not let go. She did not care. After all, she was planning to do this all the time. In the end, Vicente caved to the questioning looks.

“I will do as you say,” he said.

“Really?” Ersella asked.

“Yes, so please let go of this hand.”

“Oh, sorry.” Ersella’s eyes went wide as she let go of his arm and put her hand over her lips. Finding the gesture almost annoyingly elegant, Vicente’s eyes twitched. Ersella merely smiled, having reached her goal. Her smile looked fresher than a moment ago. “I’ll see you in a bit, son,” she said.

***

“I heard you have other things to attend to with the duchess, so let’s wrap up here,” said the tutor, finishing the lesson about two hours early as Clifton bade him to cut the lesson short. Vicente looked at the clock. Seeing the hand two notches behind made him feel funny.

He laid back on his chair and closed his eyes, feeling the warm afternoon sun. How relaxing, he thought, feeling his body unwind from the tension. He suddenly realized that he was exhausted. He’d never even had time to register that before.

Now that he had more free time, he felt as though all the fatigue was crashing down on him. The day he went for a walk in the back garden with Ersella, he napped for the first time in his life. Initially, he had planned to train or read but found it difficult to do either after what happened.

Is she really calling me her son after all this time? he thought with a faint smile. If anyone else saw him, they might think he was mocking her.

Vicente pictured the woman who was closest to him, yet so foreign. With her honey-blond hair and blue eyes that sparkled like the sea, she was undeniably beautiful. Her innocent, peaceful face suggested what kind of life she had led.

Everyone praised her as lovely and kind, though Vicente could not understand her. In his memories, his mother was expressionless and seldom smiled. Not only had she never sought him out, but she also did not seem to welcome his presence—as if his very existence bothered her. Though he did not understand at first, he got used to her nonchalance until he came to expect nothing from her.

I wonder what she’s thinking…

Recently, his mother started being friendly to him—almost too much so. He tried to gauge what was going on only for her to smile, revealing nothing. He conjectured that his father might have asked for a divorce, claiming that she was not doing her duty as a mother.

But she’s not someone who’d be so desperate, he thought.

Indeed, his mother did not have anything to lose. Though she might be past thirty, she was beautiful enough that she could easily marry another man. With her pedigree, any man would dream of marrying her, even if she was divorced.

It was unclear what motherly duties also meant. Having never received affection from his mother, Vicente did not know what such motherly virtues were. That was when Clifton walked in through the door.

“Lord Vicente, Her Grace is waiting for you,” he said with a respectful bow, announcing his schedule.

Recalling her bright smile, Vicente felt even more depressed.