Misfortune 136

Chapter 136

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Blois in spring was breathtakingly beautiful.

The sandy beach, bathed in sunlight, glistened like gold, and the seawater sparkled, clear and transparent. Flocks of migratory birds crossed the blue sky with powerful wingbeats, and young shoots peeking out between stone walls swayed gently in the sea breeze.

It was a full-fledged spring, with no trace of winter's remnants anywhere.

And Roan Barthez did not return to this Blois so lush with spring.

“We express our deepest regret. Colonel Roan Barthe... did not return from this battle. While we succeeded in securing the captured ship, it was already half-sunk at the time…”

The Brunois Navy followed protocol, notifying the bereaved family first. His sole surviving family member collapsed in her seat, sobbing uncontrollably.

The news quickly spread throughout the Blois sector, then across the entire Empire. Newspapers competed daily to publish articles about him.

[Marine Dalos, the last witness to Captain Barthez, stated he made it to the deck but was shot at the bow and fell. Searches of the area are ongoing but have yielded no progress yet………………….]

[King Dalos signs surrender pledge, kneeling before the Empire's authority.]

[Colonel Roan Barthez’s final request. The Brunois Navy carried on his will.]

After the post-war treaty concluded, the new Emperor of Brunois held a victory banquet. Yet the naval officers in attendance remained solemn instead of laughing and chatting. The nobles seated with them offered both congratulations and condolences.

Women wore black ribbon decorations to mourn the hero, and street musicians played songs honoring his deeds.

Everyone in the empire endured the sorrow of losing their naval hero in their own way.

Except for one person.

“It can't be.”

When Lena, having barely composed herself, sought out Delnia to deliver the news, she calmly denied it without shedding a single tear.

“What?”

“That man... couldn't be dead.”

Delnia emphasized again, her pronunciation clear and deliberate.

She wasn't trying to appear calm. Her heart was truly as still and serene as a windless sea.

Because, well, she simply couldn't believe it.

That he was dead. That he had left without granting a single one of her requests.

He left without ever earning a shred of her forgiveness.

It couldn't be true. That man couldn't have done this to her until the very end.

“Miss…………….”

Faced with Delnia's resolute denial, Lena stopped crying and froze in shock for a moment.

Lena and those around her assumed Delnia was simply in too much shock to accept reality for a while.

But even as winter passed and spring deepened, Delnia's condition showed no sign of improvement.

In fact, she calmly and composedly withdrew her relocation plans during that time. Tom, who had hoped to profit by helping her, licked his lips regretfully, but she never reversed her decision.

Nor did she return to Belfort.

After becoming Countess of Eperne, Delnia inherited the steward of Belfort Castle that Roan had employed. It meant the lord was neglecting his domain, but since nothing had changed, it posed no problem.

Having methodically settled her affairs in this manner, Delnia's final destination was none other than the mansion whose owner had vanished.

“I'll be counting on you.”

Delnia settled into the mansion as naturally as a bird returning to its homeland for spring.

The servants, who had been discussing the schedule for vacating the mansion with heavy hearts, blinked in stunned disbelief. They couldn't treat her carelessly now that she was a proper noblewoman.

Milan relayed this awkward situation to the Admiral on behalf of his employer. The reply was unexpected.

“There's no need to rush.”

With that single sentence, the Admiral permitted Delnia's stubbornness. As if it were enough that, in her own twisted way, her heart could find peace.

Thanks to this, Delnia unofficially became the new mistress of the ownerless mansion.

And she guarded the mansion alone until the day of Colonel Barthez’s funeral, held not long ago, where not a single strand of his hair was found.

"You really won't go?"

Margaret asked repeatedly, but Delnia's answer never changed.

A funeral for someone who wasn't dead. She had not the slightest desire to participate in that ridiculous charade. Delnia truly felt that way.

So she would wait. Until he returned. Until summer came, autumn passed, and winter arrived. Until the coldest winter night in all of Blois fell once more.

Perhaps even after that night had passed…………

"Miss!"

Then, Margaret roused Delnia with the now familiar address.

She turned her head toward the sound. Margaret peeked her head through the open door.

"Going for your walk again today?"

"Yes."

After settling into the residence, Delnia had developed the habit of walking along the shore at sunset. She went faithfully every single day without fail, so it had become part of the daily routine for the residence staff as well.

"But, I have a commitment today, so..."

"Alright. Just drop me off on the way, then?"

As if it were routine, Delnia answered before Margaret could finish her sentence.

Margaret flashed a bright smile. It was the same warm, familiar smile, unchanged even as their terms of address had shifted.

"Then I'll have the carriage prepared."

"Oh, Margaret. Wait a moment."

As if suddenly remembering something, Delnia stopped Margaret.

"Could you pick up some supplements from the pharmacy on your way back?"

"Supplements? What kind?"

"Well, Jack recommended some, and I wrote down the name... Where did it go?"

Delnia muttered to herself, frantically searching the desk. Lace and unmailed letters scattered across it were swept this way and that by her hands.

"Ah, here it is."

Finally finding the note, Delnia read the words aloud.

"Blue Mel supplement. They said if you mentioned that, the florist would know what to give."

"Got it. Blue Mel, Blue Mel..."

Margaret left, murmuring the unfamiliar name over and over.

Delnia placed the note back on the untidy desk and approached the window.

A delicate, mysterious blue-violet iris bloomed charmingly in the small pot on the windowsill. It was the very pot Jack had given her as a gift when he visited Blois last winter.

Until the sprouts emerged and the stems rose, Delnia hadn't imagined what it was. She felt a strange sense of déjà vu when the buds, no bigger than fingernails, began to form.

Even then, Delnia doubted it. But after an unusually deep spring night, the bud finally burst open. Seeing the flower bloom, she was utterly speechless.

It resembled the flower that the boy she once loved had secretly planted as a gift. And it was the very flower that he, now an adult, had trampled before her eyes, as if betraying the past.

Jack calmly explained to her, who couldn't tear her eyes away from its painfully clear color, like the twilight of dawn.

“Actually, the Colonel asked me. He said he wanted to see this flower again.”

"...."

“Since it only grows in the north, I wondered if it could truly bloom in a warm place like Blois. But it managed to bloom.”

The sorrow that hadn't quite been concealed in Jack's eyes as he gazed at the flower with admiration. As if that emotion had transferred to her, Delnia felt a sudden lump in her throat.

Even though he had trampled it so mercilessly right before her eyes. Even though he had crushed it so thoroughly it would never dare sprout again.

And then, thinking of the man who must have gone to find Jack after that, Delnia felt dizzy.

But this wasn’t a Belfort anemone.

No matter how similar it looked, she knew it could never be that flower.

So then...

"Miss. Everything's ready to go!"

At that moment, Margaret urged her from outside.

"Yes, just a moment."

Delnia tore her gaze away from the window, hurriedly finished dressing, and stepped out of the room.

Margaret wore a dress as bright and vibrant as spring blossoms, a vivid pink. In comparison, Delnia's deep green dress looked dull and mossy. At first glance, it was impossible to tell which was the noble lady.

"Goodness, I thought an angel had descended. Is it because you're so beautiful that everything looks this good on you?"

Even so, Leticia offered her usual kind words.

Delnia, who knew well the pity hidden in that warm, gentle smile, deliberately widened her eyes and smiled back.

"Thank you, Leticia. I'll be back."

The two boarded the carriage, escorted by the mansion's staff. The coachman first drove the horses toward the village entrance, Margaret's destination.

"The village seems rather chaotic today. What's going on?"

Margaret stepped down from the carriage and tilted her head in confusion.

But she soon seemed to dismiss it, glancing at Delnia sitting quietly inside the carriage and offering her farewell.

"Well then, I'll be off, Miss. I'm sorry I can't accompany you today."

"Don't worry about me. Have a good time."

Delnia saw Margaret off with practiced ease. While they usually took walks together, Margaret sometimes had appointments, leading to moments like this when they spent time apart.

Margaret strode energetically into the warm sunlight, her skirt fluttering like spring blossoms. Watching her from the shaded carriage, Delnia soon closed the carriage door.