Frost Flower and Rose (2)
Following Mary inside, I found the flower shop living up to its name—every corner adorned with flowers arranged in perfect harmony. The parlor was so cozy and warm, it was impossible to imagine the harsh northern winds raging outside. Mary politely guided me to a seat, and I sank into a chair that felt comfortably inviting.
"Would you like some tea, by any chance?"
"No, I'm fine."
At my refusal, she nodded faintly and sat down across from me with careful movements. She placed the rose she was holding neatly on her lap and fiddled with its petals. She seemed lost in thought, troubled by something.
"If you have something to say, feel free."
Mary gave an awkward smile at my words.
"It must have been even harder for you, young Lord Kasian, to go through something like that. Here I am, making you worry needlessly. I'm pathetic, aren't I?"
"I don't think so at all. Pain isn't measured by age. If it hurts, it hurts—even for adults."
"You're so mature, Lord Kasian."
"Just pretending."
A brief silence settled over the parlor. Amid the faint floral scent wafting through the room, Mary spoke first.
"Ron... he was like a little brother to me. We'd known each other since we were kids, our homes were close, so we were always together."
"Must have been nice, having Ron as a little brother."
Considering Ron's gentle personality, he didn't seem the type to cause trouble.
"Hehe."
Mary covered her mouth with one hand and let out a ladylike chuckle.
"You might act grown-up now, but Ron was such a prankster when he was little."
A faint smile crossed my lips at the stories of Ron I hadn't known in our short week together.
"Really?"
"Yes, he played so many pranks that he even made me cry once, even though I was a year older."
"That sounds like big trouble."
"It's a fond memory now..."
Mary closed her eyes for a moment, as if reliving the past, then opened them. I waited quietly until she composed herself.
"Sorry."
"No need. You still have more to say, right? Go ahead—I've got plenty of time today."
I added a light joke, mindful of her emotions.
"Where'd you learn such a cheesy line?"
It wasn't meant to sound cheesy... Did it? To salvage my nearly crumbling image, I decided to throw my distant tutor under the bus.
"Oh, my tutor—a woman—taught me that ladies like lines like that. Guess I misread the room."
Mary chuckled again at my shameless shrug.
"It depends on the person, doesn't it? I might be rude saying this to a noble young lord, but coming from you, it was kind of cute."
A faint smile finally graced Mary's lips as she said it. Apparently, the image of a noble boy who'd come bearing tragic news, awkwardly cracking jokes to comfort her, had thawed her frozen heart just a bit.
Cute, though?
Kasian's looks suited a poised young noble more than 'cute'—expressionless and elegant. Even I, now used to this body, hadn't expected that word. My cheek itched uncomfortably, and I scratched it absentmindedly. It was the strangest compliment I'd ever received as Valenvalt's second son, but it softened the mood between us considerably.
With the atmosphere easing, Mary continued her stories about Ron.
"When Ron declared he'd become a knight to protect me, he was so adorable."
"Ron wanted to be a knight too, huh?"
"Isn't it a dream every boy in Valenvalt Territory has at least once?"
"Fair point."
For others, it might be the honor of becoming a knight on this barren northern land, standing proudly atop the massive walls to defend the territory. But the Ron I'd watched closely was different. What he'd truly dreamed of wasn't the glory of being a brilliant Valenvalt knight—it was becoming her knight, protecting just one person: Mary.
Ron wasn't driven by honor or ambition. Even his last words were about Mary.
To him, the sword was less a tool for slaying enemies and more a shield to guard this little flower shop's peace and his precious family. Knowing that simple, noble truth made facing the Mary he'd left behind all the heavier for me.
"But they say Ron lacked talent. He pretended otherwise, but he must have grieved alone."
"Somehow, I feel sorry."
"It's not the Valenvalt family's fault. Don't carry it too heavily."
Mary shook her head lightly, as if that wasn't her intent, and added more.
"And Ron did become a Valenvalt soldier, didn't he?"
I nodded at her words. In truth, becoming part of the Valenvalt household was no easy feat. As befitting the lord of the north, their recruitment standards were brutally strict—even talents from across the continent often failed and left dejected. In that light, Ron must have had something special. Without talent, he couldn't have passed through that needle's eye to stand by my side.
With Ron's personality, he must have trained relentlessly...
To become 'Mary's knight,' how many sleepless nights had he spent swinging his sword in the shadows? But now, we'd never know how far that talent might have grown. Beneath the cold gravestone, his future was forever out of reach.
"I've never opened up like this to anyone, so I've probably talked too much about myself."
Mary ducked her head shyly. I just shook mine.
"Not at all. I wanted to hear it."
She hesitated at my reply, then looked me straight in the eye, resolved.
"Then... tell me about you and Ron. I'll listen, just like you did for me. Keeping it bottled up inside just hurts more, right? I'm truly grateful you came today and heard me out."
Her clear eyes met mine. The one who'd suffered the loss was now peering into my heart. That simple truth—keeping it inside just hurts—pierced sharply into the chest of the man who'd possessed the cold northern heir and struggled ever since.
My gaze caught on the single red rose resting on her lap, partially hidden by the low table. I hesitated, then steeled myself and spoke.
Of course, I had no intention of mentioning the possession. I'd embellish it plausibly instead. It felt like lying, but there was no choice.
"I didn't have anyone at the mansion to grow close to. The servants couldn't treat me casually, of course. Father is the Margrave, and Mother was busy supporting him."
Since coming to this world, I'd seen Kasian's parents only a handful of times. They were that busy. Mary listened quietly, focused.
"And my brother? Who knows where he wanders—he never even showed his face at home."
In truth, during those four months, he was the one I'd most wanted to meet. Even if not a friend, maybe a companion to chat with.
"The mansion felt so boring. The only fun was flipping through monster compendiums."
"Monster compendiums..."
"Curious? I'll invite you to the mansion sometime."
Noticing her interest, I tacked it on, but Mary waved her hands frantically.
"Someone like me, at the Margrave's estate? No way."
Class didn't matter—I could fake it for a day, and who would block my invitation? Besides, Mary was beautiful enough; in a dress, she'd pass for nobility. But sensing her unease, I changed the subject.
"Anyway, sorry if that sounded rude. Truth is, I wasn't looking forward to the goblin subjugation either. I figured the soldiers would be no different from the mansion servants. And honestly... I didn't want to go goblin hunting at all. Wasn't in a good mood."
"You, Lord Kasian? You seem so mature."
"Like I said, just pretending. Who wouldn't complain about hunting goblins?"
"True enough."
Mary nodded in agreement after a moment's thought. I recounted meeting the soldiers for the first time and how we'd grown close. It wasn't anything grand—they'd simply reached out first to the oblivious Kalia and brusque me.
I shared playful, everyday episodes with the soldiers, smiling faintly.
"You might not get it, but those short moments were meaningful to me."
They were the happiest times since possessing this world. Come to think of it, I'd vowed revenge for them ditching me at the bathhouse...
I closed my eyes at the sudden memory.
"Lord Kasian..."
A single tear traced down my cheek. Maybe because I was a kid now—even holding back, I couldn't stop it. As I sat still, trying to compose myself, Mary rose and approached.
"First, forgive my impertinence."
Perplexed by her words, I looked up. She knelt to meet my eyes at eye level, then gently embraced me.
Startled, I didn't pull away. Her warmth was so comforting, I instinctively leaned deeper into her arms. For a while, we held each other, sharing silent solace. The ache of eternal loss, that raw chill—we understood it wordlessly, comforting one another's grief in the embrace.
Only after our emotions settled did we slowly part. Mary's eyes were already damp with tears.
I pulled a clean handkerchief from my pocket and offered it. She accepted without refusal, dabbing her wet eyes carefully.
Suddenly, I thought of Khan waiting outside. It hadn't been long since the incident, yet he hadn't stopped this stranger from approaching his lord so closely. Despite his stoic demeanor, he read the gravity of the moment well. He'd likely sensed the sobs and heavy air from within, restraining himself with immense patience to guard us.
In my heart, I thanked Khan for his unseen consideration and rose from the chair. Our long talk had flown by; evening had already passed.
"Sorry for holding you so long. I must have disrupted your work."
"No. I'm just grateful you came and listened to what I couldn't tell anyone."
Exchanging apologies and thanks, Mary and I headed out of the parlor.
"Did the conversation go well?"
As I emerged, Khan asked formally. I nodded and followed Mary, who walked ahead.
We waited briefly at the shop door for the carriage, which arrived promptly. As Khan opened the door courteously, I turned back to Mary.
Should I tell her Ron's feelings?
Hesitating, I stepped back down before boarding and faced her.
"Ron... he said you were—"
Her expression stopped me. Backlit by the sunset, it was more forlorn—and beautiful—than any smile I'd seen.
She gazed at the fading sky, then at me.
"Whenever Ron stopped by here, he'd always bring a red rose."
She held out the one she'd kept beside her.
Red rose...
I stared at it quietly.
"Take it. I don't deserve to hold it anymore."
"Ron would want— No. I'll treasure it."
"Then I won't worry."
I accepted the red rose from her and turned to board just as—
"Lord Kasian!"
Our farewell was already done, but she called out.
"If you ever need someone to talk to, come by anytime."
Mary was as kind and pure-hearted as ever. I didn't refuse her kindness.
"I will."
Leaving her thoughtfulness behind, I climbed into the carriage. The coachman's sharp whip cracked through the quiet.
Hiiing—!
With the horses' rough snorts, the heavy wheels began to roll. Through the window, the flower shop's vibrant facade receded.
The bustling street's noise remained lively and peaceful. Gazing at the fading view, I looked at the rose Mary had given me.
Ron, you were too obvious.
A red rose symbolized love, passion, and heartfelt confession—something even I knew, so Mary, working at a flower shop, surely did too. It was so like Ron... Maybe that's why she'd made that face when I tried to voice his confession.
Thinking that, perhaps Mary had already made up her mind long ago...