Flowers of Worship

Chapter 4

I heard a rumbling sound as I was trying to organize my thoughts. As I turned my head, Eden had his head bowed down with his face bright red.

“Didn’t you eat?”

When I hugged Eden and forced his eyes to me for a reply, he answered with a soft voice.

“I-I was called here while I was eating.”

If I called him over, he would just get dragged over whether he was eating or doing something.

Eden treats me with respect. He probably doesn’t realize that he’s a Prince. Well, it’s been five years since he disappeared. If he’s eleven now, then he must’ve been six then. He wasn’t old enough to remember.

Eleven?

I glanced at the boy who was right in front of me. Eden lowered his eyes uncomfortably, as he felt my gaze. He had delicate long shaded eyelashes. His eyes were similar to Queen Anne, who had passed away. They were so beautiful and glimmering. Though he looks like he’s only nine or eight years old, not eleven.

“Lord?”

Sophia called me carefully, anxious when she saw me looking at the Prince, who seemed to become a bomb, without saying a word.

“Oh.”

I gave Sophia a short reply and glanced over at Eden once again. He had an anxious look in his eyes. His small body showed me that he had been having a hard time. What stood out above all are the old scars on his arms. The wounds look like they are from whipping. Of course, we are all given punishments and taught about whips. I was also beaten by my father, my teacher, and I had a whip too when I was young. There were only a few harsh cuts that left scars on my body, and I was treated immediately, even if I rarely had a wound. I also had bruises and scars on my skin.

Judging from his exposed arms, he probably had scars and bruises all over his body. It must have been worse on his back.

I can’t believe he was whipped at this level and didn’t receive any treatment. Maybe, he was treated as a slave.

But from whom? Did my father do this?

Why?

The rumbling resounded again. It is probably Eden’s stomach, and he was trying to prevent it from making a sound. His red face is now turning blue. I’m not sure why, but he seemed to think I was going to be angry, and would I hit him.

To me, he is a scourge of heaven, but this young Prince is, in fact, innocent. He deserves to be angry, but not towards me.

Not only did father lock him up, knowing full well who he was, and treating him like livestock. However, he couldn’t be putting his anger out on me, his daughter.

“I’m hungry, too. Shall we eat together?”

Eden’s eyes grew bigger when I spoke to him affectionately. His face soon brightened up, unexpected that someone would ask to dine with him. Without knowing who I am, he already had such a happy expression on his face, after learning that we would eat together.

He was lonely.

My arms tightened around Eden for no reason. It was a pity that the Prince’s life turned out to be this way. Even though I don’t truly understand how he feels.

My father’s funeral was conducted in grand.

“Irryde G. Sarian XIV, who was the one who learned the true meaning of the book the most. A philosopher with the power of sentences capable of enlightening the devil, and a knight stronger and more righteous than anyone else, had gone to sleep today, and Creator we are begging you to welcome Your follower back to your arms at the point of the moonlight.”

“We beg you,” said the gentleman, “and all the people who attended the funeral, including me. May the moon be opened, O Creator, and greet the dead.”

Fortunately, today is a good day. It’s the 15th day of the month, so it’s bright and the moon is big as if it would be caught by our hands. The way my father goes, like the moon blesses me. I hope he gets to go to the place where the sun’s asleep.

I watched the ship carrying my father’s body toward the moon, beyond the horizon of the night sea. I will never see you again. You can’t see my face anymore. Now, I can never hear or see your face or voice ever again.

I would never get to hear the nickname you used to call me, Silli, anymore. Those memories will only remain in my heart. There are a few portraits left, but the father in my heart is different from the father I know, and the father inside me will eventually disappear.

I closed my eyes before the tears could fall.

I am weak. It is the time when no one should hear me cry. I had to be strong. If I couldn’t be strong, I had to look strong. I have to be as solid as the castle I’m standing in, and I had to send a message for myself that no one would take the title of Duke or the Knights of Hastred from me.

In the orphaned night.

While the night is cold and dark, the moon seems to be warm and shining bright. My heart could never stay warm either.

“Lord.”

Leon, deputy chief of the Knights of the Hearth Red, approached.

He arrived at the castle a little while ago and managed to attend the funeral by a hair’s breadth. He arrived later than I did because he had to bring all my knights, unlike me, who ran straight to see my father.

“I heard there was an illegitimate child.”

I suddenly thought about his words. What if Eden could become my brother?

“It might have been better.”

Then everything would have been simple, but now this is too complicated. With the Prince’s disappearance and his uncle being Crowned King the question of legitimacy will ignite debates. The Crown Prince would also have to find out why he disappeared and who got him into this mess. He additionally has to learn about his father’s death.

In order to find out why my father kept the Prince in the stable, I will need to start with Gianton.

He’s not a light-mouthed person, but he’ll end up speaking because he’s open-minded.

Before questioning Gianton, I need to know how much Eden remembered and how aware he is of his current situation. So in the middle of the night, I slipped out of the room carefully and headed to Eden without the servants’ knowledge.

The servants would hear what Eden and I were saying, and the story would have been transferred/told to Gianton. Gianton is a man who treated servants like his limbs. Therefore, I needed to hear the whole story from Eden before the servants did.

What should I offer Eden, so he would tell me the whole story?

Eleven years old… what was I like back then?

I thought about it as I headed to Eden’s room. One of my pitiful ideas is to give him a Balcony, but the problem was that the eleven-year-old me would be easier to persuade Eden. When I was eleven years old, I was a sword-mad girl, who used to forget her meal and only wield a sword. Before my father would grab my hair, drag me to a restaurant, and tie me up with a rope. He threatened never to return the sword training until I had finished eating. He was the only one crazy enough to force me to eat this way.

At the age of six, the Prince, who lost everything and was treated like a slave, and I, were completely different people. Even if I go back to be eleven now, perhaps Eden and I would never get to know each other. I was born as a woman but never treated as one since I am my father’s only child. If the heir’s position were ever shaken, my father would drain all the water from the lake if I drowned, if no bodies were found.

Now that I thought about it, why didn’t the late King do so?

Eden, the only child, and the Crown Prince died suspiciously. If no bodies were found, why did he only believe his brother’s words and admitted he was dead? Is it because he trusted him that much?

“Silli, you need to know about politics.”

“In my opinion, I think I know quite a bit.”

I was hesitating in front of Eden’s window. It’s simple to open a window, but what happens next? What should I say to that poor Crown Prince and ask him to tell me everything about him? Can I even bring up the subject in the first place? It was my father who locked him up here, after all.

What should I do?

I can’t even promise him the legitimate right to the crown.

If his uncle has already given up, then I’ll help him.

It’s not fair to say that, what if the King asks me to kill him? I must be on the King’s side.

What should I ask him as collateral when I have nothing I can promise?

“Fuck it.”

The last time I saw my father was two years ago. At that time, he advised me to learn about politics.

Only

I remember my father’s expression when I said I knew enough. The snorting face he had looked ridiculous.

Though, I think my father was still a little hesitant about me stepping into politics. If he truly thought I should know about it at all costs, he would have harnessed my political sense no matter what.

At that moment, I heard a sound. When I raised my head, the window was opened.

The first back page. Heiress.

When she saw me for the first time, she laughed vainly. She was talking to Gianton before, the deaconess of God, and said, “You’re in real trouble now,” she shuffled toward me. Her hair color was illuminated by the light that was coming behind her back. It was fiery red. She had golden eyes that looked to have been made from smattering sunlight. Though she was not tall, she was very slim and more beautiful than anything else. She held me lightly while I was busy enchanted by her visuals.

“Have you eaten?”

Her tone was hard, but her expression was soft. She was smiling. She had a bright face while she looked down at me.

After I lost my position, people treated me as if I was a plague. Those who knew who I was, were impatient to kill or exploit me, or did not show up before me, and those who did not know who I was insulted, punished, and hurt me. The years that passed were so long and felt eternal. The existence of a person who readily lifts me and smiles pleasantly after living half of my life is like a miracle for me.

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