The Blooming Violet in the Back Garden

Seong Hyerim

Chapter 1

Prologue

“I found you.” The voice, gentle and thick with tears, sounded overwhelmed with joy. “I finally found you.”

The intense emotions mixing in the voice made Violet freeze in place. A cool, moist breeze blew past her. It carried an intense stench—the rotten stink of despair.

“You’re mine.” Violet could do nothing to resist the call. She stared in the direction of the voice as two red dots of light glowed and shimmered in the darkness.

“You’re mine,” it repeated sweetly. She felt she had no choice but to succumb to its power.

Then, there was a peal of beautiful laughter. For a while, she stood and listened, unable to tear herself away.

The voice, doused in a sticky darkness, rang through the colorful dreamscape, which shimmered with twilight’s last scattering light. Fervently, it tried to cling to Violet. She wanted to run, but a pair of cold arms wrapped around her neck. “You shouldn’t run from me,” it whispered.

Part One: Budding Sprout

The Revival of the Myth

Thud!

Violet curled up on the floor, feeling a sudden and intense pain in her stomach. She tried to gather her wits, but the pain was too great.

It was the coldness of the hard, wooden floor that had woken her. She opened her eyes to an old woman glaring down at her. This was Madam Goethe, her greatest fear in the world.

“Get breakfast ready, you wretch!” the old woman barked.

Violet struggled to her feet as Madam Goethe glared at her, clicking her tongue. Glancing at the woman nervously, she tidied up her bed as quickly as she could.

“You lazy little bum! Be thankful that I took you in. You’d have been sold off as a slave if it weren’t for me. You’d spend the rest of your miserable life as those bastards’ plaything!”

Violet nodded along to every word, not daring to look up. Her tears had dried up long ago. She weakly straightened her back and trudged to the kitchen.

Lately, she was troubled by the same nightmare that she had as a small child. In the dreams, a voice called out to her. It was kind enough to make her want to approach it, but its haunting undertone ultimately forced her to run. But last night, for the first time ever, the owner of the voice finally managed to catch up to her and lock her in their arms.

“Deary me, Violet. I see your day is starting with a bang,” a friendly young woman called from the kitchen table.

“It’s my fault for sleeping in,” Violet replied.

“What a good girl.” The blonde woman’s smile was weak as she reached out and stroked Violet’s hair. Her movements seemed stiffer than usual.

“Are you all right, Lina?”

“Yes, just fine. How could that hag treat a poor little girl like this?” Lina muttered under her breath, sighing as she stroked Violet’s swollen face tenderly.

Violet frowned and let out a small groan as Lina’s fingers grazed a bruise. The little girl’s tiny body was covered head to toe in bruises, thanks to Madam Goethe’s cruel beatings.

“Hey, Violet! Stop fooling around and get to work!” a red-headed woman barked.

The girl quickly stumbled over. “I’m sorry, Rose.”

“You don’t want that old witch to beat you again, do you?” the young woman snipped.

Violet smiled sheepishly as she began preparing the old hag’s breakfast, which was really closer to lunch since it was already early afternoon. On Flower Street, the days started later, and the nights ran deeper than anywhere else in town.

Lina sat humming and sipping her tea until she finally rose to help set the table, but not until Rose had told her off for sitting around. Indeed, their day was off to a start.

Flower Street hadn’t earned its name from being home to a garden of beautiful flowers. Rather, it was the center of the city’s red-light district, and its workers were often named after flowers: Rose, Narcissa, Iris, Jasmine. Violet, of course, was no different.

Every night, the young women, blooming like the flowers they were named for, would be plucked and stomped into the ground. The same gloomy fate awaited Violet and the other little girls living in the brothels. Whatever modest dreams they once had were eventually swallowed up by the dark future that lay ahead.

Every day after lunch, the women would clean up before coating their faces in white powder and rouging their lips. Madam Goethe, the owner of their house and a woman they all often referred to as “the witch,” would put on her own heavy makeup and stand in front to lure men inside. One day, Violet would join them.

Some places seemed to attract all the purest things in the world, while others seemed to collect whatever dirty scum was left over. Flower Street was the latter, housing filth and drawing flies like a dumpster. At night, the street would light up in a spectrum of colors to welcome paying customers who spat on the very same women they coveted.

With every beating she endured, Violet got more used to her cooking and cleaning duties. Her life before the brothel was devastated by bandits, who burned the fields she used to play in and killed her parents before her eyes. After being kidnapped, she was sold to Madam Goethe by one of the bandits to settle his debt.

Violet knew the witch wasn’t wrong to tell her she could have easily ended up as the plaything or a slave of a depraved nobleman. After all, the bandits had said the same thing. The little girl shuddered at just the thought of the fate that could have awaited her.

Life with the bandits had been a hell where Violet was always surrounded by their cruel laughter and violence. The men thought very little of human life, including her own.

After being sold to Madam Goethe, Violet worked hard to be useful. Being a slave in a brothel was comparatively better than being enslaved by a pack of murderous bandits. While the witch frightened her very much, Lina was kind, and Rose took care of her despite her gruff exterior.

Even in this place, condemned by the people as nothing but a repository for human filth, there was warmth. Violet was glad to receive it.

After a long night on Flower Street, the women always gathered in the kitchen. Violet would prepare some snacks while the young women drank together and avoided the watchful eyes of Madam Goethe, who was busy counting the night’s earnings.

Truthfully, the women didn’t care if the old hag found out they were drinking in secret. After all, they were the products. Goethe would never dare damage the goods.

“Divine salvation is a lie,” slurred Rose, her face as red as her hair and her tongue loosened by the alcohol. “I had a priest come to me tonight, you know. He was the worst.”

“It’s not like he’s the first priest to visit us. Oh, if only all of our customers were as dashing as my dear knight!” gloated Freesia, much to the annoyance of everyone else. She’d been enjoying the visits of a gentle knight recently.

Lydia, however, was not at all happy. She sat at her place, weeping.

“What’s up with her?” one of the other women whispered.

“She had a bad customer tonight,” Lina murmured back.

Violet turned to look at Lydia, who was slumped over the table. Her arms displayed the hideous marks she’d earned from a beating. In that regard, she looked just like Violet.

“He was a priest, too. Priests are always awful, you know,” Lina continued, shaking her head. “I can’t believe that this is supposed to be the Holy Kingdom. When is the saint supposed to come to save us? I don’t know what His Holiness is doing. Why would he allow those bastard priests to roam free?”

Lydia continued weeping.

“Of course he’s useless. It’s been more than 120 years since the saint last appeared, after all. The stories are nothing but lies. Either that or the Goddess really has abandoned us.” Rose sighed. “Maybe she just isn’t interested in dirt like us.”

Lydia sniffled at her cold words, her eyes meeting Violet’s. “I wonder what the future in store has for you, Violet,” she muttered mournfully. Tears welled up in her blue eyes again. Lydia had the tendency to grab Violet and cry over her when she got emotional, which the little girl never liked.

“What do you mean? Violet’s pretty enough. She’ll make a good living. Look at her lovely purple eyes!” Rose said.

“Right, Violet has beautiful eyes. I’m almost jealous,” Lina chimed in.

The topic of the conversation turned to young Violet. She blushed as the women praised her looks, insisting that men would love her. Violet, however, thought they were the beautiful ones. All the women seemed in full bloom, like flowers. Some might have spat on them, but the little girl thought they were the most beautiful women in the world.

“Come here, Violet,” Rose cooed as she staggered over to pull the girl into a hug. Now that she was done with work for the day, she was relaxed. Her face was beautiful. “It’s just the way we make our living. You don’t think we’re trash, do you?”

Violet shook her head.

Rose smiled brightly and pecked her on the cheek. The little girl frowned as she tried to rub away the rouge that now stained her skin.

Lina giggled at the girl’s endearing attempts, while Lydia’s cries grew louder. The women sat chugging hard liquor for a while longer.

Thud!

A sudden kick sent Violet’s body sprawling to the floor. The little girl groaned quietly, curling in on herself as Goethe pummeled her repeatedly with a cane. She could hear Rose trying to pull the witch away.

They must have reached the end of their luck. Though the old woman usually ignored their little gatherings, something must have angered her today.

“Stop it. We were the ones who were drinking!”

“Right. Stop!”

Lina and Rose tried to restrain Goethe, but the old woman continued to beat Violet viciously.

“You dare steal my alcohol?” she shouted.

The little girl panted through the pain as the old woman whacked her in the chest. She could do nothing to stop the merciless onslaught. Meanwhile, Lydia sniffled while Freesia clicked her tongue.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Violet? You are not to give these b*tches drinks! Do you think money grows on trees?” the witch shouted.

Violet tried to curl up tighter to shield herself, but the woman grabbed her by the hair and slapped her. The girl cried as her vision blurred and her head spun. She rubbed her hands together, resembling a fly as she begged for mercy. Unfortunately, Madam Goethe did not possess any such compassion.

As the beating continued, Violet lost track of when it had even begun. She gave up, just taking the blows as they continued to rain down on her.

Goethe was furious about their recently waning business, and since Violet was the only one who could be damaged without losing her commercial value, she had to bear the brunt of the madam’s anger.

“Stop it! You’ll kill her! I’m sorry, we won’t do it again!” Lina pleaded.

“I’ll pay for the drinks, all right?” Rose shouted furiously.

Goethe glared at the red-headed woman. As the most beautiful young woman in the house, Rose received the most requests and probably earned the most tips.

Rose pulled a pin from her hair and tossed it at the witch. It was a beautiful silver bauble decorated with a sapphire, no doubt a gift from one of her clients.

Goethe picked it up and examined it before turning to Violet. “No dinner for you, girl,” she spat. She then stomped out, leaving the little girl lying on the floor, unable to even choke out a scream.

Violet groaned in pain, feeling like her whole body was on fire. She could hear Lina’s worried voice asking someone to bring some water.

How strange, she thought. I’ve been through worse, but why can’t I get up this time? I still have to get dinner ready. She lay there shuddering, unable to stop hacking.

Suddenly, she heard a soft whisper in her head.

“Fools.” The voice was quiet, but filled with rage. It was the same voice from her nightmares. Somehow, it had finally found her and was there to observe her pitiful life.

“It’s time.” The voice suddenly turned desperate. “Wake up, child.”

Violet began to cry as the voice became more and more mournful, pleading with her. “Wake up. You must… Please, I… and sorry.” It faded in and out. She missed chunks of what it was trying to tell her.

Her fingers twitched as the voice continued to beg her to get up. She wondered why it was suddenly so desperate. What do they want from me? I’m just a filthy child… I can’t do anything…

“Wake up! Wake up, Violet!” a tearful voice cried.

When Violet opened her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of Lina’s crying face.

The little girl jolted up, her heart pounding. She felt nauseous, dazed, and feverish. Lina grabbed her hand.

“Lina, what…? Is it time to work—” Violet muttered.

Suddenly, the door swung open to reveal Rose wrapped in a cape. “We have to go, Lina. Get her up already!”

“Something’s wrong. She must be sick!” Lina sobbed.

“There’s no time to cry. Quickly!”

Violet turned to glance out the window, only to be left shocked. Oh… Just like before, she thought, suddenly remembering when her village was attacked by the bandits.

Outside, Flower Street was consumed in flames. As Violet snapped fully awake, she could suddenly hear the shouts and screams all around them. She quickly got up, trembling.

“Let’s go,” Rose urged. Lina and Violet followed quickly behind her.

As they stepped out of the room, they saw that the old building they lived in was already on fire. Lina screamed as a burning log crashed to the floor next to her. Her long dress caught fire and they hurried to stomp it out.

“Hey, we’re out here!” Lydia yelled from the street, cracking open a small side door.

“You should’ve gone ahead, you dummy!” Rose barked with a frown.

Lydia just smiled back softly. This kindness was why Violet found it impossible to truly dislike her, despite her annoying crying habits.

They slipped out the door to find Freesia also anxiously waiting for them, her eyes full of tears. “Let’s go! Why did you bother going back for the kid?”

“You little b*tch. How could you say such a thing? She’s only ten, and she’s our sister!” Rose snapped, roughly grabbing Violet’s shoulder.

“This way. Will told me the lord’s city is over the mountain. We’ll be safe there,” Freesia said, pointing at the mountain behind them. While venturing through the mountains at night was akin to offering oneself to the beasts, they had no choice.

As soon as they set foot in the mountain’s reaches, they were greeted by the cool smell of the trees. It was a welcome change from the heat of the burning town. Just the fact that they had made it out seemed to calm all of them down.

“I wonder what became of Goethe, that hag.”

“Does it matter? She could be dead, for all I care,” Freesia said spitefully.

Lydia was running up ahead of them. Despite her fear, she was smiling. “Still, we’re finally getting out of here, aren’t we?”

“Indeed,” Lina replied with a smile. They were afraid of being pursued or running into wild animals, but they knew freedom awaited them if they survived.

They were fortunate that their building had been located on the corner of the street, and nobody had come after them in the chaos of the fire. Once they passed over the mountain, they would be able to see the lord’s city.

Freesia had learned from her knight beau that the lord overseeing both Flower Street and the city nearby was a marquess, a man with a difficult-to-pronounce name who was also known as the King’s Sword. Under the marquess’s rule, the city was apparently safe and clean. Now that they were heading there, the women found themselves smiling for the first time.

Perhaps the Goddess hasn’t abandoned us after all, Violet thought. Tonight, the darkness that used to imprison them would protect them instead.

Rose announced that she was happy to finally be free of her debt. Lina said she would look for other work. Freesia talked about finding her knight. And Lydia smiled, claiming she’d ponder what to do next once they reached the city.

Rose kept a tight hold on Violet’s hand. The little girl smiled brightly as well, realizing she wouldn’t have to endure any more beatings. Though she still felt dizzy, she was also refreshed.

At that moment, the group noticed a cluster of torches bobbing between the trees and stopped. The lights seemed threatening, illuminating the dark forest around them ominously.

About twenty men armed with swords slowly emerged from the trees and stared at the group of fleeing women. It was a relief to see that they were not bandits, but soldiers wearing gleaming armor. Violet had heard that soldiers of the Royal Army donned such armor.

The women let out relieved chuckles as they recognized a few familiar faces. Oh my! each of them thought. None of them could believe that they almost mistook the Royal Army for a troop of bandits. If anything, these men were likely on the way to take out the criminals.

Freesia smiled brightly as she ran up to one of the knights, who was riding a white horse. Violet recognized him as Will, the sweet client she always spoke about.

“Oh, my goodness! To imagine I’d run into you here, Will! I was just on my way to see you!” Freesia cried.

The blond knight looked down at her, his face grave. When his eyes did not soften, Violet felt fear creeping up her spine. The expression on his face was one he had never made when visiting Freesia, and it was in stark contrast to the young woman’s bright smile. It was an expression of utter contempt.