The death of Careth Willdyer was announced to the whole of Hiraeth at four o'clock. Some celebrated as this meant they placed their bets right, some were disgruntled that they lost, and only a minority were sincerely in grief.
His body was carried to an empty guest room, where a coffin lay in waiting. Careth was put inside, still and unmoving, as the workers from the funeral parlor tidied his attire and patched his makeup.
Sir Felluor stood by the door, focusing on their actions and the boy. Although the heir appears to be dead, he was still not taking any chances.
After the workers had finished their preparations, guests were allowed to pay their last respects to Careth. They filed in and went around the open coffin, placing marigold flowers by his sides, before leaving the room with nothing but pity in their hearts.
"Looks like that incompetent son will take Careth's place now."
"Such a shame. Young Careth was so capable too."
"There's no choice. We need Blessed heirs; no matter how excellent Careth was, he would've been useless anyway."
The grandmaster ignored their mutters and turned to Master Willdyer, who had a hard look on his face ever since he stepped into the room—cold sweat ran down from his forehead that wrinkled from his excessive frowning, and judging from the bulge in his pockets, he seemed to be clenching his fists.
Sir Felluor placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's unfortunate, Terrell, that you have to experience another death. But don't worry. I'm sure Careth and Lilian will be happy with where they are now."
Master Willdyer waited for everyone to leave the room before responding. "They were still family. One was your grandson and one was your daughter. How can you be so heartless?"
Unamused, Sir Felluor made way for the workers to re-enter the room, saying, "You forgot that I'm not the most heartless person here. It's those people who gave the flowers to your son, acting all sympathetic, when they were the ones who caused his death."
The workers heaved the coffin and transported it to the meadow outside. All invited guests from before had already gathered, and were expressing their sorrows whilst withholding their glee at being able to witness the burying firsthand. To be seeing the burial up close was a privilege that all the commoners can only wish for, and so said commoners had crowded the gates, pushing and shoving to get even the slightest view.
Before the coffin was lowered, Sir Felluor stopped them. "Wait. Open it. I want to check for the last time."
They listened and opened the coffin, revealing the same Careth, his eyes shut and hands crossed on his abdomen, forever at peace.
The grandmaster nodded in acknowledgement and the coffin was finally lowered. Master Willdyer caught a glimpse of decayed wood just next to Careth's coffin; it reminded him of the time where he was shut in his room, and had to watch Lilian's burial from above, because Sir Felluor deemed he was making too much of a commotion. His sight of Lilian's coffin was then blocked by Careth's, and the workers began shoveling dirt back into the hole.
Guests left gradually, disinterested in the rest of the ceromony. Once the ground came even again, servants planted marigold flowers above it, in honor of his death. Master Willdyer caressed the petals gently, glancing at Rian who was hiding in the shadows.
"Your return as heir will be announced tomorrow," the man said.
Rian nodded and left without a word. Master Willdyer released a long breath and took one last look at the meadow, before returning to the manor.
—
- 2 years later -
In the busy streets of Dalphenstern, amidst the wave of businessmen and women hurrying to get to their next meetings or snatching up a business opportunity, a young woman dressed in green stood in front of a flower shop. Unlike the people in this town, she was not eager to mingle in monetary conversations, nor keen to start up a booming business. She was eager, however, to just live a new and comfortable life, and discard away her haunting history.
The woman pulled on her bonnet for security. Although it had been two years, the police from Hiraeth still did not give up on their search for the Gensweathe family. It was said that after the tea party had concluded, when officials were sent to confiscate the entirety of their home, they family had already vanished without a trace. Even the father and daughter who attended the event slipped away without notice.
The search for the Gensweathes was led by the noble Ride family, who were infuriated by their escape. Their precious daughter, Alina Ride, had to go through the humiliation of being ignored by the previous heir, and they suffered the rightful consequences when they were replaced by the Gensweathe family. So how could the Gensweathes just up and leave, not bearing the consequences as they should according to the Tradition?
Marylith—now known as Valene, daughter of the Sonne family—entered the florist's shop, worried that her prolonged idle outside would attract attention. She was greeted warmly by the florist, who waved at her entrance.
"Welcome, welcome! What kind of flowers are you looking for, miss? Daisies? Roses? For a special person?"
She wasn't taken aback by his friendliness. People in Dalphenstern were way different than those in Hiraeth—here, they would do anything to please their customers, as long as they get paid. Whereas in Hiraeth, pride was more of the common belief, so the people said lesser words, but actually held an essay behind their tongues.
Marylith smiled. "Marigolds, two stalks."
The florist's cheerful demeanour dimmed instantly. "Oh, I see. Death anniversary, is it?"
She nodded, and he said a quick 'sorry for your loss,' before disappearing behind the counter. Once Marylith had fished out the money, she looked around the shop. Pots of white orchids hung above the counter, stringed to the ceiling that was painted a warm marmalade colour. The walls were completely obscured by the variety of flowers; with roses, tulips and sunflowers neatly wrapped in bouquets ready for a quick grab, while hyacinths, jasmines and lavenders sat in their respective beds, releasing sweet, enamouring scents.
The bell to the door rang, signaling the entrance of another customer. Marylith stayed in her place, not looking back in fear that it was the police. She could pick up an odd scent from the person—a mix of metal and gunpowder, suggesting that he or she may be in the military.
'Must be wanting to surprise their partner, then. How romantic," she thought, grinning to herself.
"Here you go, miss. Two stalks of marigolds. My condolences. That will be ten Dales," the florist said in one breath.
Marylith paid and took the flowers, feeling her nose burning up. As she reminisced her old times, the florist attended the next customer.
"Good day, sir. I take it you're not from here?"
Her spine chilled upon hearing his words.
"Yes. I'm from Accruxia. Just visiting family here," the customer responded.
Marylith sighed in relief. She got lucky today.
"Oh! I see, I see. So what would you like to buy? Roses? Daisies?"
"Same as that woman before me. Two marigolds, please."
The florist coughed awkwardly. "Such a gloomy day today, huh? I'll get right on it."
As he disappeared behind the counter again, Marylith turned to face the gentleman. The man wore a long brown cloak over his black uniform underneath, and had a pistol by his waist. He wore a similar black mask and hat that covered his entire face, except for a pair of striking brown eyes.
"Was it family? Or lover?" she asked. It wasn't that Marylith was trying to pry; she knew how heartbroken he must've felt, and merely wanted to share their grief together.
"Lover," he replied shortly.
Marylith nodded. "Me too. I miss him dearly."
The man paused, before saying, "I'm sure he misses you too."
Marylith wiped her eyes hastily. "You talk like he's still alive... he was so young when he passed." She then quirked an eyebrow. "That's the Accruxian uniform, right? You look extremely young to be in the military."
"I'm a... special case, you can say."
They went silent for a while, and Marylith spoke again. "What was her name?"
Before the man could answer, the florist returned with his fresh orders. "Here you are. Two marigolds. Again, sorry for your loss. Ten Dales."
He thanked the florist, and Marylith thought it would be best to leave, seeing that there was no need to know further if they were not going to meet again. As she pressed down on the handle of the door, his words held her back.
"Her name was Marylith."
At first, the woman panicked, because it meant that this person knew her past, and was probably out to get her and her family. To further prove her point, this person was dressed in a military uniform, which implied that he had basic training to catch criminals.
Marylith quickly unlocked the door and scurried out, holding onto her bonnet and hiding her face. The man was in pursuit, yelling after her and catching up.
She slipped into an alley, facing her back against the wall and caught her breath. The marigolds were shaking in her grasp, and Marylith was about to emerge again, when someone pulled her by the waist.
Marylith thrashed around and was going to scream, when the man muttered, "Stop! Merry, it's me!"
Her body froze, and she whipped around, witnessing the man taking off his mask. Underneath the cloth revealed a face she thought she would never see again, ever since that fateful day when he had died from the poison.
Careth let her go, but still trapped her within his arms, in case she runs away again. "I know it's a lot to take in, so I will explain everything slowly. Are you all right?"
Marylith's mouth hung open, and she touched his face with her index finger, then pinched herself. "It hurts. I'm not dreaming, am I? Careth, is that really you? I'm... I'm not seeing a ghost, right?"
Careth shook his head vigorously. "No, it's real. I'm here and alive."
"H-How?" she stammered, tears dripping from her chin. "I thought you... I thought you died, and I was so, so—"
Careth wrapped her in her hug, surrendering to his emotions as well. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry it took this long to get to you. A lot of things happened, Marylith, but I swear I will explain every single thing to you."
She nuzzled into his neck, holding him tightly, as though worried he would disappear again. Careth loosened his grip to kiss her on the lips, and she returned it—marking this their second one.
As they pulled apart, Careth held her hand and said, "I'm so happy to have finally found you. But Marylith, I still have unfinished business with my family. And even though I don't want you to get involved, I don't have anyone else to confide this into. So can you promise me, you'll keep yourself safe, for my sake?"
Marylith smiled tearfully. "Of course. I promise." She then thought for a moment, and it dawned on her. "This is... about Rian, isn't it?"
Careth nodded, and a new, matured determination honed over the years finally came to light. "Yes. I'm planning to go back to Hiraeth, to rescue him from the town. He made a promise to wait for me, so I can't delay him any longer."