Chapter 87: Love Blossom
The old woman let out a soft laugh, her voice carrying a faint note of nostalgia as she spoke, "Indeed, it is as you think. The flower was still in its raw state, not even lifted from the soil when it was taken. What you see now is not simply the flower itself but the result of careful preservation, the liquid that surrounds it was made to hold its shape forever, to keep its beauty untouched by the flow of time. Those liquids, I should tell you, were created for this one clip alone."
Kael leaned back ever so slightly, his tone calm and unhurried as he asked, "That makes sense. Then tell me, how much does this clip truly cost?"
The old woman tilted her head, smiling faintly, "Straight to the point, are you not? I suppose you are the kind who must know the price before daring to hold interest in anything. Very well." She fell quiet for a short while, as though weighing her answer carefully, and then with a strange softness in her tone, she said, "Just for you, young man, it will cost one hundred gold coins."
Kael coughed lightly, though he quickly steadied himself, raising a brow as he repeated slowly, "A-A hundred? You mean to tell me that for a single clip, even with its flower being real and its craft being handmade, you are demanding such a price? I understand value, but I cannot see why it should reach so high."
For him, the sum was excessive, more than he would ever consider reasonable for such an ornament. It was not that he could not afford it, for he certainly could, but the thought of Seraphina discovering such a purchase unsettled him. He knew well enough she would bury him for wasting coin so recklessly. Money, after all, was no trivial matter to him, and he was constantly reminded that the only reason he still had enough to eat was because of her.
The woman laughed softly again, the wrinkles at the corner of her eyes deepening as she said, "So, you want to bargain with me, is that it? I am an old woman, you must be gentle in your haggling. And before you accuse me of thievery, you should know that the price I have spoken is already what it deserves. If this clip were placed in a shop of great renown, richly ornamented and filled with noble clientele, it would not sit for less than a thousand coins, perhaps more. You have merely stumbled upon it here by chance, and that is your luck."
Kael's expression did not shift much, though his voice grew colder as he replied, "I remain unconvinced. If you expect me to hand over a hundred gold, then give me a reason worthy of that demand, something more than vague talk of rarity. Without it, I will walk away, and that will be the end of it."
He had long since learned that most merchants opened with inflated prices, hoping to fool a careless buyer, and in the past he had fallen for it many times. Yet after countless scoldings from Seraphina, he had trained himself to hold his ground, to press for justification before parting with coin.
The woman's eyes glimmered as if she had been waiting for this very moment. "Reasons? How many would satisfy you, young man? Very well, I shall give you more than one, and then you may decide whether or not it deserves its worth." She let her words linger before continuing, "First, the flower itself. Do you know what it is you are gazing upon? It is the Snow Gentian, a bloom found only in the deepest reaches of the Ice Mountains, a place few dare to tread. To obtain even a single petal requires risk, since no ordinary traveler can reach such heights. It is the sort of task that demands quests, the hiring of seasoned adventurers, and the danger alone carries a cost greater than gold. Surely you see how its price already begins to shape itself."
Kael's gaze remained steady, his thoughts careful. Her reasoning sounded sound enough, yet how could he know for certain that the flower encased in crystal was real? There was no way to prove it, no way to test its truth. So he stayed silent, cool and unreadable.
The old woman, noticing his silence, continued, "But I will tell you something else, and perhaps this will interest you more. The flower within this clip was not brought back by adventurers, nor by mercenaries, nor by any hired hand."
That caught his attention. His eyes narrowed slightly as he asked, "If not adventurers, then who was it that retrieved it?"
The woman grew quiet for a long moment, and when she finally spoke, her tone carried a strange depth. "A man in love did, of course."
Kael arched an eyebrow, his calm voice carrying the faintest edge of curiosity. "And what is that supposed to mean?" It puzzled him deeply. If another man had gone to such lengths, then why was the clip here, lying unsold in her hands? The story made little sense.
She laughed faintly, though there was a trace of wistfulness in it. "Ah, young men these days. You hear words but not the weight behind them. Let me explain. It happened long ago, back when I was not yet an old woman, when I still worked under the service of others. A young man came to me then, filled with determination, and he asked me to craft for him the finest hair clip in all the world, something so precious that he could place it before the woman he loved and win her heart. At that time, I did not think such a thing was possible. To rid myself of him, I told him he would need the Snow Gentian, a flower said to bloom only in the depth of hell itself, far beyond anyone's reach. I gave him that impossible task thinking it would drive him away."
Kael listened intently, though he did not interrupt her flow of words.
"But the young man did not give up," she continued, her voice softening. "He was determined in a way that I thought would falter with time. Weeks passed, and he did not return. I thought him lost, perhaps dead upon the mountains. Yet after four months, he returned at last, and in his palm, I saw the bright blue petals of the Gentian, his smile radiant as he placed them before me. I had underestimated him. In that moment, I learned what love could make a person do, how far it could carry them, and how it could push them to achieve what others believed beyond imagination."
Kael remained composed, though his eyes showed the faintest glimmer of interest.
The woman's gaze grew distant as she went on, "I felt shame then, for I had given him false hope, and yet he had proven me wrong. I swore that very day to craft the finest clip I could, to make good on the false promise I had spoken. Years of research followed, for it was no easy task to bind such a fragile bloom, yet I discovered how to shape crystals and create the liquid that could preserve a flower eternally, keeping its beauty untouched. When I finished, I held in my hands a masterpiece, and I was filled with joy. Yet that joy was not to last…"
Kael finally leaned forward slightly, raising a brow. His voice was calm, steady, yet curious. "And what became of it afterwards? Why is it in your keeping now, offered for sale, if it was born of such devotion? Did the man's love fail him?"
A sad smile crept across the woman's face, and for a long time she said nothing. The silence itself carried weight, until at last she whispered, "Do you perhaps know of the war?"
Kael's gaze hardened, and in a voice that was level and calm he asked her, "Which war are you speaking of?"
Her eyes, which moments ago seemed hazy and distant, sharpened just a little as though she had pulled herself out of old memories. "I am talking about the war that strated more than twenty years ago. The same war between our Kingdom and the Kingdom of Lumivane, which in time came to be known as the War of Culture."
Kael looked at her in a haze of his own, his expression carrying a faint uncertainty. He could not quite understand what she was referring to, for he was almost certain that no such war had taken place in the way she described, or perhaps there had been one long ago and he had already forgotten. Yet, rather than leaving it unspoken, he asked in his calm and steady voice, "I am sorry, but I do not remember such a war. Perhaps I was unaware of it altogether. Can you tell me what this war was about, and what connection it has with that man you mentioned earlier?"
The woman tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into the faintest smile that carried more weariness than mirth. "So it is true then, that nowadays even young men know little of such histories. Well, it has been a long time since that war, so I will keep it short and tell you only what matters, especially the part that ties it to the man. The war began as nothing more than a conflict between two countryside cities at the far edges of both kingdoms. Yet, little by little, it grew and spread until it became something far greater. Before anyone realized it, what had started small lasted five full years and took countless lives."
She let out a long sigh, her voice heavy as though speaking of those days weighed her down.
Kael kept his silence, but his eyes remained fixed on her, listening carefully to every word.
The old woman then continued slowly, her tone trembling ever so slightly, "In that war many innocent people were killed mercilessly. The Kingdom of Lumivane sent assassins, men trained to cut down not soldiers but families, so that terror would spread through villages and cities alike. Among those marked for death was that young man I spoke of, together with his wife. They were both slain without mercy."
She paused for a moment then added, "Ah… but did I not tell you before, that to complete this hairclip it took me nearly ten long years? He and his beloved were already married long before that, and even had a daughter by the time I was still working on it. Yet when I finally finished it, I could not deliver it to him because the war had taken him away. Forgive me if I cannot recall every detail clearly, for so many years have passed that countless things have faded from my memory."
Kael still stared at her; he actually hadn't expected the sudden turn of events.
However, the old woman continued, "But one thing I did not forget... this hairclip remained with me, never given to another. I told myself I would not sell it, yet time forced me to. And when I finally did, it was not so easily taken. For years I tried to hand it over to someone, but none would buy it. In the end it felt almost as if the hairclip itself was waiting, carrying a blessing of its own, as though it could only belong to one who might carry the spirit of love with them. That is why I gave it a name, 'A Symbol of Love,' though in my heart I also called it 'Love Blossom.'" She sighed again, her voice soft as though the words themselves were exhausting to release.
Kael stared at her in silence, not because the story had moved him deeply, but because he had not expected her to speak so much or reveal so many details of a past he barely believed in. Yet the tale, however fragile and uncertain, lingered faintly in his mind.
Still, she was wrong, utterly wrong, for the clip had not found him through love or fate or blessing. It had reached his hands by nothing more than chance, nothing more than a piece of dumb luck. If such a trinket could be called a symbol of love, then her belief was mistaken, completely mistaken. Because love itself was worthless, and he, above all, did not love Seraphina.
The old woman looked at him again, her lips parting with a weary breath, and asked, "So… after hearing all of this… do you think this clip is worth hundreds of coins, or not?"
Kael did not answer with words, but the sound of a small pouch falling onto the glass counter gave his reply. Before his thoughts could catch up, his hand had already placed the money there.
The woman took it without delay and carefully handed him a polished wooden box that held the clip. He accepted it, slipped it into his pocket, and turned away, though not before pausing for a moment to look back at her. His voice was calm and smooth, carrying no weight yet leaving no doubt. "This clip is worth far more than what you sold it for. In fact, it seems I have already won the bargain."
The woman's face lit with a smile, not the bitter smile of before but a genuine one that carried warmth, and she answered softly, "Thank you, truly, for buying it. After all these years I feel at peace, for at last I could give it to someone. Perhaps now I can finally sleep without the weight of regret. Somehow I know this hairclip has gone to good hands, and with it the man's blessing too"
She pressed her hands together tightly, her fingers interlacing as though clinging to a prayer, and spoke softly, "I pray to the Goddess of Love to bestow her blessing of love upon you, young man. You shall achieve the fulfillment of your feelings as well."
Suddenly, the air seemed to shift as if answering her prayer. In front of her shop, a gust of wind blew toward the young man, carrying soft petals of pink flowers that swirled around him.
Kael heard every word she spoke, but he did not care enough to give any reply. His steps carried him forward toward the mansion, where at long last he would see his beautiful wife after the journey that had kept them apart. He felt a quiet satisfaction in the thought of her face, the thought of seeing it again.
"Shut up… I don't."
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Meanwhile, Seraphina was seated at the dining table that stood within the living room, her posture elegant yet heavy with stillness. Her legs seemed to be crossed beneath the folds of her full gown, though the fabric concealed every line of her figure, leaving only the faint suggestion of shape.
The soft glow in her blue eyes flickered faintly in the light, and her expression wandered between something restless, almost irrational, and something far more primal, like hunger, though not the kind that could be satisfied with food.
She had been waiting for his return with great anticipation, but as time slipped away into the silence of the evening and no footsteps came to her door, her impatience only grew heavier upon her shoulders.
Yet her mind did not remain idle. She drifted in and out of deep thought, circling again and again around the many cases she had pieced together, their threads tangled and knotted, leading back to that one figure who refused to be understood.
She had learned much, yes, but so much remained hidden from her. The mysterious masked man. His presence lurked behind every event, every murder, and yet the questions pressed endlessly upon her... how were all these matters tied to him, what great reason bound them together, and most of all, who was he?
The man's identity was a locked door, and every attempt to open it left her only with further doubts.
Her thoughts turned then toward Eska. She had not expected that woman to be drawn into this tangle of fates, yet strangely enough, the more she thought, the more Eska's story pressed itself into the pattern.
The memory of her husband's arrest gnawed at Seraphina. He had been seized by the Knight at the moment of his theft, but after his death, he was released from prison as if the chains had never bound him. Then came the attack by bandits, an attack so vicious it nearly claimed Eska's life, only for the bandits themselves to be struck down by a strange appearance.
Seraphina suspected the masked man's hand in that slaughter, yet another possibility gnawed at her... that perhaps it had been Eska's own husband, moving unseen.
Then, like a blade piercing through fog, a single thought rose within her mind. Eska's husband was arrested at the very moment of his theft. By the time… by the time… Her eyes sharpened as though tempered steel had replaced them.
"But what exactly was a prison guard doing there at that moment?"
She turned her gaze to the window, the faint reflection of her face mingling with the darkness beyond, and her thoughts struck harder with each moment. "Why is there no record of this? Why is there no explanation of how it happened? If he truly arrested him, by what manner did he know? And how could he know beforehand that Eska's husband was the thief?"
Her thoughts tightened further. Arwyn had spoken much when recounting events, yet not once had she mentioned anything about this strange detail. Did she overlook it? Impossible. Even in her foolishness, she would not miss something like that. Then perhaps… perhaps there was never any such explanation to begin with. Could it be that the entire matter was fabricated, or worse, hidden deliberately?
The air grew heavier as her mind sharpened further. "This case is far deeper than we believed," she whispered to herself, though no one could hear. She resolved that tomorrow she would confront this matter more directly, and in the meantime the Knight she had sent to investigate Eska's husband would soon bring her new information to work with.
Her eyes lowered, and there upon the table lay a letter marked with a crest, sealed days ago but waiting patiently until now.
She reached for it, her fingers brushing the parchment, and her expression shifted as though the weight of her mind collided with something far more personal. This was the reply she had been waiting for from her mother.
With care she opened it, her eyes flickering with both hesitation and expectation, and murmured within her thoughts, "Let us see what you have to say, mother."
The letter unfolded, her mother's voice woven into each word, gentle yet noble, the kind of tone that carried warmth even through the formality of her upbringing.
"How are you, my dearest daughter? I have been worrying for you. You ceased sending me letters so suddenly that I have begun to imagine you unwell. If you are sick, then why not take some rest? And if your father has denied you that rest, then tell me and I shall see to it that he grants you not merely a week, but a year of it if need be. You need only speak, and I will not rest until you are free of burdens. Forgive me, my sweetheart, for not accompanying your father to Velhart. He told me nothing of his journey, and I only learned of it afterward from Sebastian. Do you not think this was wrong of him? Did he also speak with you in secret? He always hides his work behind a veil of busyness, as though his duty excuses him from every truth. My heart aches to see you again, yet the roads to Velhart remain closed to me. I begged him to consider building a rail track so that I might come, but he only dismissed the thought as impossible for those lands."
Seraphina's lips curved into a faint smile, though her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "She has not changed in the least," she thought softly. "Always forgetting her manners, always letting her heart speak before her composure, and yet she was the one who never ceased to lecture me about restraint and grace. I never hated it. No… I loved it, every bit of her untamed warmth."
She read on.
"Now, enough of my complaints, or this letter will grow endless. I shall answer the questions you wrote concerning Kael. You have written much of him, but I find within your words a strange tension... you draw close to him, yet you write as though you feel nothing for him. That, my dear, is what your letter revealed even if you did not intend it. Do not glare at me, Seraphina, you know I only speak what I see."
Her lips pressed together, and she sighed inwardly. "That is not what I meant, mother. You have misunderstood me entirely."
Her mother's letter continued.
"You wish to know the reason for this, and though I have always guided you, this time I will not provide the answer. You must discover it yourself. Ask yourself the questions you fear to ask. Still, I will give you one hint. Perhaps what you feel is nothing more than the stirring of the body, a simple reaction born from the years you have spent sleeping in the same chambers with him while doing nothing at all."
Seraphina's eyes narrowed, irritation breaking across her expression. "Doing what exactly, mother? I would never."
But her mother's hand had not yet paused.
"It may be that you have grown desires you never expected to know, my daughter."
Her brows twitched, her voice cutting low within her thoughts. "Desires? Me? That is impossible. No such thing dwells in me. He is not even a man in my eyes. There is no way I could…"
Her gaze faltered, but she forced herself to read further.
"I hope you will find your answer, for you must know it better than anyone else. And as for the recipe you requested, I have written it upon a separate paper, which you will find within the envelope. One more thing, my dearest Seraphina, for I must say it though it pains me. Since such feelings stir within you, perhaps it is time you consider the matter of a child."
In an instant her hands clenched around the letter so tightly her knuckles whitened, and the parchment groaned beneath the pressure as though one more heartbeat would tear it apart.
Her blue eyes flared sharp and cold, and her lips curled as venom slipped through her whisper. "How dare you, father… how dare you press her hand to write such words. Mother would never write this of her own will. You think I would not notice? You think I cannot hear her voice beneath your lies? Next time we meet, I swear it, I will kill you."
Yet the letter had not ended.
"I am sorry, my darling. I asked this only because your father is relentless. He is consumed with his desire for a grandchild, so that he might finally retire from the Knight Orders. Forgive me for burdening you with his wishes. I only pray that you will consider it, if only to ease his heart. Also, take some rest, or perhaps go on a honeymoon. I'll manage your father, okay? Take care, my dear. Yours lovingly, Mommy."
Seraphina's breath shook faintly. "Retire? So early? That man who never spared a moment for his own family, who clothed himself in duty so he might escape every bond, now dares to speak of retiring? How ironic."
Her eyes skimmed the last lines once more before she finally tore the paper in her hands, not in fury but in a slow, deliberate motion. The fragments drifted downward like withered petals.
Her voice echoed in the empty room, low and sharp. "So you want a grandchild so desperately, father? Then I shall give you one. But…"
The silence trembled, and in that silence came a voice, soft yet cutting through the stillness as if it had been waiting all along.
"Uhm… Seraphina. Do you truly wish to bear my child?"
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(Chapter Ended)
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A/N: New Update Schedule: Every Week
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01:00 AM GMT (+8) (Sunday & Monday)
Also, did you guys enjoy it so far?
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To be continued...