The Flower Dances And The Wind Sings - Chapter 52
A tea time was held for the two of them in the backyard behind the old-fashioned private residence of Bernhardt. The servants busily laid tablecloths and prepared tea sets and desserts.
For an unannounced tea time, warm black tea and desserts in a four-tier tray were prepared quite well. The dried plums brought by Ercella were placed on individual plates.
“What do you think?”
The blue eyes gazing at him shone brightly. Giving no mind to her gaze, Vicente put the dried purple fruit in his mouth.
“It’s delicious.” Vicente gave a brief compliment.
It was a rather dry reaction, but it was much better than to see him frown because it was too sweet or smack his lips. As Ercella was feeling proud, she heard a muffled laugh.
“So…”
“…….”
“You went for a stroll alone to buy this?”
She knew there was no meaning to it and Vicente was just asking casually, however, her face still brightened instantly. Then she remembered the commotion that happened in the middle of the night.
“I’m ashamed to see you.”
“You don’t have to feel ashamed because of me,” Vicente responded monotonously and put another dried plum in his mouth.
Ercella’s eyes got slightly bigger. The dried plums were delicious, but they were sweet because they were full of pulp.
She didn’t think that Vicente, who didn’t like sweets, would eat it on his own. Ercella brought it without much thought, just wanting to share something delicious with Vicente.
“Isn’t it sweet?”
“It’s sweet.” The answer came immediately.
Then, why do you eat it? Perhaps… Is he still eating because his mother bought it? Thinking that far, she urgently dissuaded Vicente.
“If you’re forcing yourself to eat, you don’t have to.”
However, upon hearing Ercella’s words, Vicente looked very strange.
“I don’t have a hobby of stuffing tasteless things into my mouth.”
“…”
“It’s delicious. Just a little sweet.”
Vicente then gracefully drank a cup of tea. Looking at him blankly, she slowly drank tea, too.
“How was it?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your outing yesterday.”
Ercella bowed her head as if at loss at how naturally he called it an “outing”.
“Sorry.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
She apologized, but he ignored it and instead asked if she enjoyed it. Ercella contemplated whether to be honest or not. She chose the former.
“It was good.”
“What did you do there?”
“How peculiar. You’re asking me a lot of questions today.”
Ercella burst into laughter because Vicente constantly asking questions felt unfamiliar. Suddenly, she raised the tip of her fingernail and tapped on the table; her tapping created a cheerful sound that rang through the garden.
“First, I looked around the stores.”
“…”
“The first thing I bought were these dried plums, then I went into a jewelry store to buy a bracelet. It was really pretty for the price.”
“…”
“I even saw handmade crystal glasses. They were lovely, too, but I couldn’t take a closer look because I was afraid they’d break. Um, what else did I buy..? Oh! I bought a handkerchief and some threads.”
“You will embroider it?”
“Yes.”
‘I’ll embroider it and give it to you.’
Ercella silently added in her heart. Later, she was going to surprise Vicente when he would be ordained as a knight and participate in the royal hunt.
“What else did you do?”
“What else…”
Remembering Juan, Ercella smiled softly.
“I met a good person.”
“…”
“
“I was lost, and he kindly guided me. If it weren’t for him, I’d still be lost.”
Even after listening to Juan’s words and having a realization, it didn’t mean that her life would be changed greatly. Another day has gone by now.
However, unlike before, there was a sign of courage that rose inside her. Somehow, a ray of hope was cast into her heart that she could do it and that she could move forward.
“I also watched fireworks with your father. Strange. I’ve seen countless spectacular fireworks in the royal palace, but the festival enjoyed by the commoners was more memorable.”
As she traced back to that night, she could still see the stars falling down from the sky, hear the sound of crickets amid the silence of the night, and feel his cold hands.
“Have you ever seen fireworks?”
“I’ve seen it, but haven’t really watched it.”
“Then let’s watch it together next time.”
Vicente drank tea quietly instead of answering. It was an ambiguous response, neither positive nor negative. Ercella wanted to ask one more time, but she stopped herself thinking she might be forcing it again. As nobody spoke further, the garden subsided into silence. Ercella brought the teacup away from her lips and looked around the surrounding landscape.
It’s the season of fresh green. The greenery covered the yellowish-brown ground, and in between, bright yellow flowers were in full bloom.
Putting down the teacup, Vicente’s indifferent gaze looked around. The warm sunlight shining fairly on all nature, the flowers swaying with the cool breeze, and the butterfly flapping its wings next to it, touched his gaze, then disappeared from his eyes as he looked down.
And, the wind blew.
Whoooosh-
The branches of flowers entangled with the meandering winds. A yellow petal that swayed and fell brushed against Vicente’s cheek. His eyes trembled slightly, perhaps feeling ticklish. Vicente turned his head in the direction the wind was blowing.
The series of scenes took place one after another before Ercella’s eyes. She saw where Vicente was looking. At that moment, she felt as if time had slowed down. A bunch of yellow flowers, flowing like waves, were rushing their way. Despite the impossibility, Ercella thought they might cover her and Vicente altogether.
Oh…
‘I really…’
She was not unfamiliar with this feeling. She knew it well. Yet, she found it unfamiliar. Just as a spell cast by a fairy tale wizard, a golden carriage that floats in the night sky crossing the moon, and like a swaying leaf outside the window whispering and waking you up.
All things were alive and moving in her world.
* * *
He beheld the sea of flowers fluttering with the wind.
Oh, was there something like that here?
Was it there when I came by before?
I don’t know.
I was never curious about what Mother planted in the back garden. Slowly, he closed and opened his eyes repeatedly. The yellow waves disappeared when he closed his eyes, and reappeared when he opened them. It was a very simple feeling. Invisible, visible. Only that much difference.
As he looked around his surroundings, in addition to the yellow flowers, he saw flowers of all colors blooming. From what he had heard, it was his mother, not the gardener, in charge of the structure of the garden, the arrangement of flowers, and what kind of flowers to plant.
Suddenly, he had a thought.
Is it worth pouring your heart into taking care of such paltry beings?
To me they are merely trivial beings— nothing useful. But how could Mother adore them so much?
There must be some value to that kind of thing.
More so, putting your heart into these trivial things…
He cut off his thoughts.
He turned his head and saw the person who became a mother. Her blue eyes were tinged with an unknown wonder as if they were lost somewhere.
What are you thinking?
Suddenly, he became curious. In fact, he was always curious about her thoughts, regardless of whether he had feelings for her or not.
What do you think when you look at me with cold eyes?
“
Why do you bite your lip every time you see me?
You gave me these eyes, so why do you avoid looking into my eyes?
Why do you hate me so much?
Would you smile if I die?
Sometimes, thoughts like that come to mind.
Mother.
A word that feels unnatural to give voice to.
Mother.
He couldn’t say it in his heart, so repeated it in his mind.
A stranger. He saw his mother in front of him. She smiled broadly when their eyes met. She was a mother.
When was it? Since when did that woman smile at me? He felt emotional. He withheld the answer, and drew his attention to her.
“Do you remember?”
What am I doing? I don’t even know.
“When Mother said here that I don’t need to be a knight.”
He didn’t even know what he was saying. He was just delaying the answer to the question he asked himself. But perhaps that wasn’t the case for Ercella, because her face had turned pale. Still, he smiled as her face seemed to have been covered with frost.
“How can I forget? It was something I shouldn’t have said to you who lived to become a knight all your life…”
He didn’t mean anything, but it’s funny how she reacted like that.
“Then, Mother, do you remember cutting down my tutors on your own?”
“…I really have nothing to say to you.”
His mother sighed in defeat. At the same time, her drooping shoulders seemed to reach the ground.
“I loved the piano lessons, so do you know how embarrassed I was upon finding out that my teacher was fired under my mother’s orders?”
Her eyes grew like a surprised rabbit. He heard a voice filled with embarrassment.
“Is…that so?”
No. Actually, he didn’t know either.
“…I’m sorry. I should’ve asked you first.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
Did I enjoy that time or not? What did it mean to sit in a chair and play the keys before the piano lessons began? After my music teacher was fired, why did I feel regret at the thought that I no longer had to learn it compulsorily?
Also, why all of a sudden have my political and diplomatic lessons become boring, and why do they often cover economics, philosophy, and law books? On the other hand, do I have to study sociology, geography, and history books so often?
Was it a natural occurrence that was meant to happen as he grew up, or was it just the result of his mother cutting down his teachers at will?
I still don’t know.
“It will never happen again. I’ll consider your thoughts first. Promise.”
What are my thoughts? If those thoughts are of like or dislike— those sort of preferences— are they really relevant?
I don’t really know. It’s quite tiring to relate doing something according to my mood. If there was no standard of preference, the speed of learning would be fair, and walking on a set path meant that one wouldn’t have to fear losing their way. That was the life he had lived so far.
For a long time, he had been on an island where the wind did not blow, the waves did not strike, the sun did not burn, and blizzards did not hit. That little world was the haven he had built.
Vicente had never thought of abandoning all of that and stepping toward an unknown indicator.
Say,
why do you keep smiling at me?
He knew that what lay before his eyes was an expansive sea. In the midst of it existed a shabby ferry that may be swept away by a storm.
If you ride that, you may even find a continent. However, you could also be swallowed by the waves, trapped in the deep sea for eternity and die. But if he eventually refused to climb on it, he’d still be on the island, so it didn’t matter.
Say,
“Anything…else you like?”
why do you keep smiling?
The woman who had always abandoned him. Reflecting on yourself and regretting your mistakes does not mean that it never happened. Where did you throw that noble pride? If you had stayed such a mother till the end, you wouldn’t have looked so ridiculous, yet why do you do this even when you’re hurt?
In that case, what do I want to do?
Do I want to go back to feeling hatred and contempt for her? Do I want her to fall apart? Do I want her to shatter? Do I want her to get on her knees and apologize?
He knew he deserved it. And he wanted it. But he also didn’t.
Like a person who doubts clumsy favors, yet still wants to be deceived.
However, she did not favor him greatly. In fact, Ercella did not endure much for him. There were many times he was annoyed by her arbitrary behavior.
But it kept lingering in his mind. Her smiling eyes, sweet voice, and various facial expressions that he had never seen before. Things like those. Those insignificant things roamed in his head as if they had wings fluttering about. Then he laughed at himself for having those things on his mind.
“If you have a favorite subject, let’s study it first. Let me know,” Ercella spoke affectionately.
Vicente looked at her. It was as if a ray of light shone through the darkness, as she reached out to him. As if to bury the past and conciliating, offering to be together in the future.
What if I hold it? Where will that hand lead me? Is it paradise or mire? Or should I let go of her at the end of the cliff? It could be an endless quagmire where I fall.
Thinking about it, a vain laugh erupted from within. He seemed to realize a little then. What should I do?
“No, I jest. So please take it as a joke,” he said and glanced at his mother. She had blond hair, blue eyes, pale skin, and red lips.
“I’m glad you had fun going out.”
“Oh… Yes, it was fun. Next time, let’s go together—”
“But next time, please refrain from going out alone.”
“…”
“It’s dangerous.”
“Are you worrying about me? Thank—“
“Please refrain from doing anything that would put Father in trouble.”
“…”
Ercella’s eyes fluttered for a moment at the vaguely drawn line. But it was only for a moment, and she drew a smile around her lips soon after.
“You’re right. I only thought about myself.”
Annoying.
“Sorry. I won’t do it again.”
Eyes that looked like they were forced to smile, and lips that were saying sorry. It was frustrating as if a heavy stone was placed on his chest.
He pressed his forehead against his fist and smiled dejectedly. Four purple dried plums were seen through the lowered eyes. The sweet nectar spread in his mouth. However, his throat swallowing the sweet taste was ever so bitter, that he spoke to Ercella without smiling, “And, I have to prepare for the upcoming knight exam. I’m telling you in advance that we won’t be able to eat together.”
This is the right thing to do.
“Huh? But eating together—”
“It’s class time, so I’ll go first.”
It would be easier to forget a short time of both good and enjoyable moments than long years of resentment.
It’s just late.
For Mother, and me.
* * *