Flowers of Worship

Chapter 4

I heard a rumbling sound as I was trying to organize my thoughts. As I turned my head, Eden had his head bowed down with his face bright red.

“Didn’t you eat?”

When I hugged Eden and forced his eyes to me for a reply, he answered with a soft voice.

“I-I was called here while I was eating.”

If I called him over, he would just get dragged over whether he was eating or doing something.

Eden treats me with respect. He probably doesn’t realize that he’s a Prince. Well, it’s been five years since he disappeared. If he’s eleven now, then he must’ve been six then. He wasn’t old enough to remember.

Eleven?

I glanced at the boy who was right in front of me. Eden lowered his eyes uncomfortably, as he felt my gaze. He had delicate long shaded eyelashes. His eyes were similar to Queen Anne, who had passed away. They were so beautiful and glimmering. Though he looks like he’s only nine or eight years old, not eleven.

“Lord?”

Sophia called me carefully, anxious when she saw me looking at the Prince, who seemed to become a bomb, without saying a word.

“Oh.”

I gave Sophia a short reply and glanced over at Eden once again. He had an anxious look in his eyes. His small body showed me that he had been having a hard time. What stood out above all are the old scars on his arms. The wounds look like they are from whipping. Of course, we are all given punishments and taught about whips. I was also beaten by my father, my teacher, and I had a whip too when I was young. There were only a few harsh cuts that left scars on my body, and I was treated immediately, even if I rarely had a wound. I also had bruises and scars on my skin.

Judging from his exposed arms, he probably had scars and bruises all over his body. It must have been worse on his back.

I can’t believe he was whipped at this level and didn’t receive any treatment. Maybe, he was treated as a slave.

But from whom? Did my father do this?

Why?

The rumbling resounded again. It is probably Eden’s stomach, and he was trying to prevent it from making a sound. His red face is now turning blue. I’m not sure why, but he seemed to think I was going to be angry, and would I hit him.

To me, he is a scourge of heaven, but this young Prince is, in fact, innocent. He deserves to be angry, but not towards me.

Not only did father lock him up, knowing full well who he was, and treating him like livestock. However, he couldn’t be putting his anger out on me, his daughter.

“I’m hungry, too. Shall we eat together?”

Eden’s eyes grew bigger when I spoke to him affectionately. His face soon brightened up, unexpected that someone would ask to dine with him. Without knowing who I am, he already had such a happy expression on his face, after learning that we would eat together.

He was lonely.

My arms tightened around Eden for no reason. It was a pity that the Prince’s life turned out to be this way. Even though I don’t truly understand how he feels.

My father’s funeral was conducted in grand.

“Irryde G. Sarian XIV, who was the one who learned the true meaning of the book the most. A philosopher with the power of sentences capable of enlightening the devil, and a knight stronger and more righteous than anyone else, had gone to sleep today, and Creator we are begging you to welcome Your follower back to your arms at the point of the moonlight.”

“We beg you,” said the gentleman, “and all the people who attended the funeral, including me. May the moon be opened, O Creator, and greet the dead.”

Fortunately, today is a good day. It’s the 15th day of the month, so it’s bright and the moon is big as if it would be caught by our hands. The way my father goes, like the moon blesses me. I hope he gets to go to the place where the sun’s asleep.

I watched the ship carrying my father’s body toward the moon, beyond the horizon of the night sea. I will never see you again. You can’t see my face anymore. Now, I can never hear or see your face or voice ever again.

I would never get to hear the nickname you used to call me, Silli, anymore. Those memories will only remain in my heart. There are a few portraits left, but the father in my heart is different from the father I know, and the father inside me will eventually disappear.

I closed my eyes before the tears could fall.

I am weak. It is the time when no one should hear me cry. I had to be strong. If I couldn’t be strong, I had to look strong. I have to be as solid as the castle I’m standing in, and I had to send a message for myself that no one would take the title of Duke or the Knights of Hastred from me.

In the orphaned night.

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