Chapter 43
The Flower That Bears a Sword - Chapter 43
Translation: godsn
It was real. No, it couldn't be. Is that a lie? It must be. There's no way it's true. If it were true, would that mean he actually loves me? Since when? Why? I can't understand. It's impossible. It must be fake.
No, you can't fake that kind of expression. That defenseless smile, those cautious glances, the way joy and sorrow mingled together—it's impossible for all of that to be false.
But then, if those feelings were real, why the engagement? It must not be true after all. He's showing me kindness, making me lower my guard, just to confirm whether I'm the Demon of the Magic Sword. The person he truly loves must be his fiancée, right?
Really? Were all those things he showed me really just an act? All those emotions?
Echinacea Roaz. Did you actually believe they weren't fake? What were you expecting? He carries the exact same memories of your death.
'What... what was I even hoping for? Why do I feel like this?'
Her heart was a tangled mess. Eki buried her face in the pillow and forced herself to sleep.
That night, her dream was an endless maze. A single strand of light traced a path, guiding her forward. A white, dazzling, beautiful line of light. Yet Eki couldn't bring herself to trust it.
I don't know where you're trying to take me. What am I supposed to see to believe in you? Where is it you're trying to reach?
The light didn't answer her questions. So she stood still, ignoring it. The maze around her was dark and cold. Only the line of light circled at her feet, tracing endless loops.
The official Squire appointment ceremony took place the next morning.
Rather than a grand event, it was a personal oath. A simple affair where the Lord and Squire would swear their vows before a priest dispatched from the Great Temple of Agenka. The ceremony was held in one of the Great Temple's chapels. Spectators were forbidden—only the Lord, Squire, and priest were permitted inside. So Baraha leaned against a roadside tree near the chapel and waited.
Echinacea Roaz appeared wearing a red dress. A deep crimson gown adorned with lace and ribbons so dark they appeared nearly black. Beneath the hem, a white petticoat peeked out.
Her gloves were burgundy silk, and her necklace, bracelet, and earrings were a matching set of silver and tiny rubies. A narrow-brimmed hat with delicate silver filigree and ribbons, paired with the dress and topped with sheer mesh. Beneath it, her pale pink hair cascaded in waves. The face framed by it was expressionless.
Baraha approached her and called her name.
"Eki."
The blankness vanished from her face as she turned to him, replaced by a faint smile. Baraha stared intently at the slight upturn of her lips. He waited until they parted slightly and his name slipped out between them.
"Senior Baraha. What brings you here?"
"What brings me? I came to see your appointment ceremony."
"Spectators aren't allowed."
"Well, yeah, but I wanted to see you, so that doesn't matter."
Baraha shrugged. Eki didn't understand his reasoning, but she didn't press further. She still wasn't fully recovered. Standing was tiring, and thinking was bothersome.
Especially when she imagined Yurien waiting inside that chapel. His presence felt like a thorn, pricking incessantly at her heart.
'His fiancée... She was supposed to arrive today.'
The thought she'd been trying to avoid surfaced. Eki bit the inside of her cheek, trying to convince herself. There was nothing particularly special about her relationship with Yurien—whether he got engaged or married, what did it have to do with her? Reason told her that much, but her heart refused to obey. Her mood kept sinking.
"Are you feeling unwell?"
Baraha asked as she stood motionless. Echinacea quickly shook her head.
"No, I was just lost in thought for a moment. I'll go in now."
"Alright, do well. I'll wait outside."
"You're going to wait?"
"It's the day you officially become my junior. We should celebrate. Were you really planning to just eat at the mess hall on a day like this? I know a decent place."
On any other day, his kindness would have been tempting. But not today. She was determined to get through the squire appointment ceremony as quickly as possible, lock herself in her room, and just sleep. The strange dreams had kept her up all night, leaving her even more exhausted. With an apologetic look, she shook her head.
"I'm sorry, let's go together next time. I'm too tired today—I just want to rest."
"...Hmm. Excuse me for a moment."
Baraha tilted his head, then abruptly stepped closer. He took hold of her arm and slipped his hand beneath the draped lace. Echinacea stiffened in surprise but didn't pull away—she could guess his intention.
Just as expected, a large hand pressed against her forehead. He frowned.
"You're running a fever."
"It's nothing serious."
"Tsk. This won't do. Finish the ceremony quickly and go rest."
Baraha released her and gave her shoulder a gentle push.
Back when I had that fever before, he stayed with me the whole time in the stables and still didn't notice. How did he figure it out today? Am I that obvious?
Clicking her tongue inwardly, Echinacea bid Baraha farewell and reluctantly stepped into the chapel.
The chapel was silent. At the far end stood a divine statue, flanked by two sword-bearing angels. No one dared carve or paint the face of God, so the sculpted deity gazed downward, layers of cloth obscuring any hint of gender or features.
Beneath the statue stood a priest. His white vestments, embroidered with golden thread, marked him as the High Priest's second-in-command, the Chief Priest. He had just set the scriptures on the lectern and was unfurling the oath.
Yurien stood to the left of the lectern. Light filtering through the stained-glass ceiling cascaded down his hair. When Echinacea entered, he turned his head toward her. The distance made his expression unreadable.
She walked slowly across the chapel toward the front. As she approached, his gaze never left her. With each step, his face became clearer. Even bare-faced, with nothing to hide behind, his expression remained as inscrutable as the layered cloth of the divine statue. Echinacea reached the right side of the lectern, gathered her skirt, and knelt in greeting.
"Captain."
"Cadet Echinacea."
Yurien spoke her name, then fell silent for a brief moment. His piercing sky-blue eyes traced her figure before he hesitated and murmured,
"...I had hoped you wouldn't push yourself. The ceremony could have been postponed."
He didn't seem to expect an answer. Immediately, he turned his head toward the priest.
"Proceed quickly."
"Pardon?"
"Begin."
"Ah, yes."
Echinacea lowered her gaze. So he noticed my condition too. Just like last time—just by looking at me for a moment. She pressed her lips tightly together to keep words from spilling out. If she let her guard down, she might ask—How did you know? And—Are you really getting engaged?
The priest began reciting the tedious preamble of the oath—chivalry, the mindset of a squire, the virtues a lord must uphold, how a squire must serve their lord faithfully and a lord must guide their squire to the best of their ability. The same tired, predictable words. Throughout it all, Echinacea avoided meeting his eyes.
Yurien, on the other hand, never stopped staring at her.
"...So swear. Squire Echinacea Roaz, do you pledge to follow your lord with unwavering faith and embody the virtues of knighthood?"
"......Yes."
Her response came a beat late, distracted as she was by other thoughts. The priest then turned to Yurien and asked:
"Knight Yurien de Harden Kyrie, do you swear to impart your knowledge and experience without reservation, guiding your squire along the path of knighthood to the best of your ability?"
"Yes."
"Thus, I declare Echinacea Roaz to be the squire of Knight Yurien de Harden Kyrie. This oath shall remain in effect until death or birth intervenes. This 19th day of May, 1629. Ar Sebat-tiem."
The 'birth' mentioned in the oath referred to when a squire naturally becomes a knight, thereby dissolving the squire relationship. 'Death' encompassed not only actual demise but also laying down one's sword in retirement or abandoning the path to knighthood.
The priest handed two copies of the oath to Yurien and Eki along with quills. Each signed their own oath, then exchanged to countersign the other's document. The completed oaths—bearing both lord and squire's signatures side by side—were returned to their respective holders. With this, Echinacea officially became Yurien's squire. A relationship that would endure until she became a knight, or until one of them laid down their sword.
The priest gathered his bible and quill, bowed, and exited the chapel. Eki folded her oath and tucked it away. Across from her, Yurien was staring blankly at the document in his hands. That vacant expression loosened her tongue before she could stop herself.
"Captain—no, my Lord. I heard you're getting engaged."
Yurien looked up. That inscrutable expression again. She was going mad wondering what thoughts lay behind that face. An inexplicable anger surged within her. Eki's voice came out brittle.
"My congratulations."
"...You."
Yurien blinked weakly. Then continued in a hushed voice:
"Before... you said you wished to become a knight to find happiness."
"Yes, I did."
"Does that happiness mean a peaceful life?"
"Pardon?"
The vague, cryptic question made Eki frown unconsciously. Yurien passed a hand over his face like one performing an ablution, then spoke without removing it. A strained voice seeped through his fingers.
"If—just if—there were something you desired, could you sacrifice your peace to obtain it? Could you endure being swept into chaos?"
The question still felt like grasping at clouds. When Eki stared blankly up at him, Yurien hastily added:
"It's purely hypothetical. Merely..."
"I wouldn't choose to sacrifice my peace."
Eki cut him off with her answer. Did her happiness lie in a tranquil life? Of course. For nine years she'd gathered Giosa solely to preserve the lives of those dear to her. She'd thrown everything into that effort. So her answer was predetermined.
"You asked if my happiness means a peaceful life. Yes, it does. Living peacefully with my family, loved ones, and those around me—that is my happiness. Rather than make dangerous choices that endanger them, I'd abandon my own desires."
The fever burning through her stole all restraint, and she answered with whatever honesty rose to the surface. As her words continued, Yurien's composure fractured. He slowly closed and opened his eyes. His trembling lips pressed firmly together—as if swallowing back something threatening to erupt. Then his expression smoothed into blankness.
"Understood, Echinacea. Then rest today. Squire duties begin three days hence. Should you require more recovery time, inform me anytime."
"Thank you, my Lord."
Yurien exited the chapel first. Eki watched his receding white back for a moment before departing herself. The empty chapel was left with only the faceless idol.