Chap 3

My mother went like that. She fell and died in haste, descending the mountain, saying she couldn't leave me alone at home, even as a shower was falling near the summit.

The hunters found my mother and brought her to the village, and the village chief conducted a hasty funeral.

I did nothing. Everyone ignored me. As if it were an adult's affair and a child had no rights.

As if what was in that wretched coffin was not our mother Melia Roba, but something else.

The village adults conducted the funeral on their own, cremated, and put the ashes in a jar. They only put me in the front row to watch it all.

The village chief handed me the urn of ashes, and I didn't understand his words right away because it was so heavy that my knees wobbled.

"Where will you go?"

"...."

"Where will you go, Lorisha?"

I opened my eyes wide and spoke. It seemed like my eyelids wouldn't burn if I put all my strength into my face.

"...Home."

"What?"

"Home...."

I ran home with that heavy urn of ashes.

'Where else would I go! You old fool who would freeze to death.'

An adult's arm grabbed me, but the village chief stopped them. Just let her go.

The setting sun was blazing red. I thought I must not drop this heavy jar, what would happen to our mother if I did, I must not fall, I must go home before night. That was all that was in my head.

I was scared and disliked the hissing, hissing, unfamiliar breathing sound from my throat, but I couldn't stop.

"Mother. Mother. Mom.... Mom!"

Returning to the shack, I lay down in front of the cold fireplace, holding my mother's urn, still warm.

She said she'd definitely come home. That she'd definitely come back to me.... She asked me to believe. And I did....

I believed my mom, only my mom.

Damn it. Now I don't believe Mom. I don't believe anyone.

I was ten years old then.

(This is a time separator.)

I must have been near death in front of that fireplace. A vague memory remains of someone lifting me up and moving me, the sensation of my body shaking in a carriage.

When I recovered my strength, nursed by a grandmother's maid in some mansion, a blonde, dignified middleaged nobleman visited me.

He just looked at me with moist, soaked eyes. Seeing the large signet ring on his middle finger, he was a highranking nobleman. But what did he want with me?

I spoke first, feeling awkward.

"I'm Lorisha. Lorisha Roba."

He coughed as if choked and then said.

"You are Lorisha Roard."

"...."

"I am Heliden Roard, Earl, your father."

I barely gathered my wits and responded.

"No, I'm not."

This time his pupils wavered.

"Do you have another father..., from your mother?"

"No."

I answered firmly. I didn't want to let this man talk about my mother in this strange way, even if he was a nobleman.

"I don't have anything like a father. My mother doesn't have anything like a husband. If there had been, we wouldn't have lived like this."

I thought then that the man's face looked as if he had been stabbed with a knife.

"I'll take care of you now."

Why did that make me so angry?

My mother is already dead, and he appears only now!

I burst into tears. It was the first time I had completely lost control.

When I came to, I was sobbing in his arms.

Nobles only speak in elegant terms and don't listen to vulgar things.

So, I thought if I swore at him, I could drive this nobleman away. Whether he was frightened or disgusted, I thought he'd leave, waving his hand.

But he hugged me so tightly that I couldn't breathe, and maybe he was crying a little too, so I thought maybe he really was my father.

That didn't change anything, though.

He only let go of me after my breathing had calmed.

"Lorisha flower. That's my favorite flower, you know."

I was incredulous.

This person named me after his favorite flower? Mother. If you're listening, let's talk about this.

I stared at him, realizing that his bright blond hair, green eyes, eye shape, and facial contours were quite similar to mine.

Even at that young age, I vaguely knew how cruel this was.

What did our mother think every day, seeing me, who resembled that man, after giving birth to a noble's child and having to live in hiding?

He named me after his favorite flower, and he must have said I was beautiful, looking at my face, resembling his.

Wasn't that so? So did he lie? Saying he would come back and then not coming, did he abandon me? Because I resemble my father?

As I thought that, it felt like a lump of fire was gathering in my chest.

"Why did you abandon my mother?"

What did the hateful question of a tenyearold girl feel like to him?

"You don't need to say it. Butcher Colin is also a child born from his mother being seduced by a nobleman when she was young. She was a maid back then."

When I spoke mockingly, the Earl's eyes trembled with shock. I was pleased that my attack had worked then, but now I know that wasn't the case.

He must have been disappointed and horrified by how Melria had raised her daughter.

"Watch your mouth, Lorisha."

I never heard such a stern command in my life.