I Got Killed and Woke Up as a Successor

Silence. It was so quiet it was eerie. But Effie seemed very used to it. She staggered in, closed the door carefully and walked to the center.

She clapped her hands and magic tools immediately circled around her, glowing, illuminating.

The room was designed like a party room where rich people show off all the things they have. It was just very small compared to the big party room.

The crystal chandeliers on the ceiling made the place pale in color. And there were many paintings of beautiful women in the room.

"Ah, I forgot that I haven't allowed you to speak yet. Gosh... apparently I haven't been around for so long that it's become this way." Effie chuckled, then clapped her hands. "Go on, you can use me now," she said.

The painting moved. As if it had suddenly been given to them. They turned their heads - the pictures were trying to see each other - aware of the sudden light and finally startled.

"You... what have you done to us? Bitch! Bitch!"

Effie laughed at the curses directed at her. It felt good to hear so many curses, signaling that she was the winner of the war they were in.

"How does it feel in there? Is it fun?" asked Effie.

A wave of anger spread quickly. Effie didn't even know what the face in the painting was talking about. There was just cursing, some of which she understood and some of which she didn't.

"Calm down, dear, you're about to meet someone new. A snot-nosed kid who has nothing but acts like he has everything!" Effie imagined Eleonora's face between the pictures. She looked confused to be there. "All right! Stop it. I'll see you later."

The faces in the paintings screamed, not accepting what was happening to them. But the screams meant absolutely nothing to Effie. The people in the painting stopped moving with a final expression.

"What a beautiful painting!" Effie praised, laughing happily.

***

Should he bring something to meet Eleonora after all this time?

He arrived in the capital yesterday at noon. He quickly finished his business at the palace administration and returned to his residence in the capital. In this short time, many people had tried to contact him.

Letters of invitation to tea came from families below his level. And from the royal family itself. But Andrew Windsor had turned them all down. He remained silent and burned all the letters before reading their contents.

"Stop right there!" Andrew ordered his carriage to stop right in front of the small flower shop.

There wasn't much to choose from. Even the flowers in the garden of the residence were more beautiful than the ones available here. But once again his brain wondered if it was safe to stay here and not bring anything back.

The shopkeeper, who was probably the owner of the shop, also trembled at the greeting. She was an old woman with gray hair. She looked down so deeply that Andrew thought her back would be in trouble later.

"How can I help you, sir?"

There were only two people with the title of Duke at the moment. The Lucsor family and the Windsor family that Andrew had inherited. "Are these the only flowers available?"

"It is still winter, Lord. And the flowers elsewhere are not sent to the capital because of that. So they can only provide flowers that grow in greenhouses."

Andrew wanted to bash his own head in for forgetting the season. He sighed softly. "I'll take everything. Make some bouquets," he ordered.

The saleswoman raised her head. In her eyes, which trembled with fear, there was also a look of joy. Surely very few people bought flowers because they were expensive. And today she sold all her flowers.

She called out a name as she entered the shop. Another person appeared, looking clueless, but moving quickly according to the shopkeeper's instructions. His hands were even more dexterous than the florist who had just served Andrew.

The bouquets were immediately sent into the carriage. The last bouquet was held by Andrew. They were flowers that Eleonora had planted in her own garden. I wonder if she understands the language of these flowers now. Eleonora had asked why Andrew had bothered.

"I'll bring the last one myself!"

He handed over ten gold coins. Quite a large sum to pay a florist. The people bowed even deeper in gratitude. But Andrew was only concerned about the waist of the old woman, whose head was already gray.

The carriage ride through the streets of the capital was smooth. So smooth, in fact, that Andrew's stomach was suddenly uncomfortable when the coachman and the knight told him that they were about to arrive at Eleonora's residence.

It had been a long time since he had been there. It was possible that the flowers he had planted had been uprooted by Eleonora. That girl was like that. Incomprehensible and always trying to keep Andrew guessing.

When the carriage actually stopped in front of the residence, it wasn't just uncomfortable. Even Andrew felt nauseous. He thought about turning around and going back to the mansion. Just as this thought occurred, the carriage door opened and Eleonora came into view.

Andrew was stunned for a few moments, not expecting it, even thinking that he was hallucinating due to fatigue.

"You still want to stay in there?" Eleonora's sweet voice quickly snapped him out of his trance. She made him think he should have jumped out of the carriage.

"I'm shocked." He tried to act casual. He stepped out of the carriage as manfully as he could. His steps were slow and rhythmic. And once in front of Eleonora, Andrew held out a bouquet of flowers that he had brought himself. "I prepared them especially for you! Do you remember these flowers?"

Eleonora did not immediately accept the bouquet. Andrew wondered if the flowers Kamelia had planted were safe in the garden. Did the girl in front of him not know the meaning of the flowers she had planted herself?

"Thank you! You brought so much!" Eleonora finally accepted the bouquet.

Andrew had thought that Eleonora would throw it away after that - give it to someone else. But until they entered the residence, Eleonora continued to hold the bouquet Kamelia had given her.