The Bloom of Violet

“I’m not a noble. I’m no different from you all.”

Though Ann had the favor of the king, the queen, and the noblewomen, she was ultimately no different in status from the servants. So, it didn’t really matter.

“The stew is very delicious.”

“Right? It’s lamb that we caught earlier today. We worked hard to get rid of the gamey smell before you arrived.”

Emma responded with a bright smile. Agnes smiled as she took a spoonful of the thick stew. The vegetables and lamb were wonderfully tender and flavorful.

Emma, happy to see Agnes eating well, said she would help her regain her health while she was at Belvirund. Agnes felt grateful but also guilty, as she felt she had caused concern for so many people.

“Thank you, Emma. And Monica, and Alyssa.”

Agnes thanked the servants who were taking care of her and continued her meal. Though Lennox was absent from the dinner table, it was quieter and more peaceful without him. It was likely that every dinner from now on would be like this.

There would be no emotional drain or exhaustion. Lennox would disappear from her daily life. This was what she had longed for, yet somehow, she felt bitter. Agnes forced a smile, trying to shake off the feeling of sinking.

“By the way, Miss, the Count of Ilba’s wife’s maid just came by a little while ago. She asked me to deliver an invitation to you, so I placed it in the study.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll check it later.”

Had the invitation already been sent? Agnes felt a sudden surge of anxiety. It wasn’t the first time she had received an invitation this way.

She needed to find a husband within the given time frame. Agnes thought of Ingrid, who had insisted that she find one, and clicked her spoon. Though there was still plenty of stew left, the sudden news made her stomach uneasy.

“Miss, is the food not to your taste?”

“Mm?”

“You’re not eating much.”

Emma gently asked. Agnes looked at the cold stew and shook her head at Emma.

“No, it’s not that… just…”

“I may have brought it up too early.”

Alyssa, who had mentioned the invitation, spoke apologetically. Agnes shook her head. Alyssa hadn’t done anything wrong. It was just that she was the one being strange, unnecessarily nervous. Although she wasn’t a noblewoman, thanks to Ingrid and the noblewomen, she often attended social gatherings among the nobles.

Though she usually accompanied Ingrid’s maids, she wasn’t inexperienced. She shouldn’t feel so stiff about it. But…

“These days, the noblewomen of Saphoras enjoy summer picnics, so they probably want to invite you to one. But your health should come first, Miss, so you should rest a little more…”

“No, I’ve been invited, so I can’t refuse.”

Agnes smiled evenly and shook her head.

The Countess of Ilba must have heard something at the Tulip Palace, which is why she sent the invitation so early. But if she refused the first invitation, it would be embarrassing. Moreover, if she wrote a rejection letter to the first invitation, they might not invite her again.

She couldn’t afford that. No matter how difficult and uncomfortable stepping into Saphoras’ social circles was, her purpose for coming here was not just to rest.

“It’s fine. My health is already quite good. Thank you for your concern.”

Agnes smiled gently and picked up her spoon again. The stew was cold but still tasty. She quickly finished her dinner and went to the study. There, she checked the invitation that Alyssa had placed on the table.

The scene transitions to Lennox:

It was a bright and clear noon, the sun shining like a ripe lemon hanging between green leaves. Lennox stared at the young man approaching from a distance. The man, dressed in the king’s guard uniform, walked with precise steps, a far cry from the youthful boy Lennox remembered.

“It’s been a while.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I hope you’ve been well.”

“As you can see.”

“You seem to be in good health. You’re looking more and more like the late King.”

Though Lennox didn’t particularly like the comment, he showed no reaction. He merely smiled slightly.

Lennox gestured for him to sit in the chair opposite and observed his old friend, who had grown into a tall young man. Huey, the eldest son of Count Altuart and his wife Yvonne, had left the capital eight years ago due to his mother’s illness. Lennox had not seen him since then.

“Have I committed an offense?”

“That can’t be. Is it rude to say that a son resembles his father?”

After a brief silence, Huey, having observed Lennox’s expression, spoke up. His face showed signs of concern over Lennox’s stiff response. Lennox quietly studied his face. Yvonne had passed away eight years ago, unable to recover from an illness.

Count Altuart, who had even given up his title as commander of the royal guard to care for his wife, retreated to their country villa. The Count fell into despair after her death. In an aristocratic society where marital devotion was often treated as strange, Count Altuart was an exceptionally devoted husband.

Yvonne, despite the scandal surrounding her affair with the king, had loved and devoted herself solely to her husband. Her affection for the late king was irrelevant. Huey’s parents lived in a world where they had each other, and no one else.

So, Count Altuart, unable to live in a world without his wife, passed away two years later from illness.

Huey went to his maternal family’s home in Katai. They exchanged letters a few times, but eventually, they lost contact. Under the influence of his maternal grandfather, Huey joined the navy.

Time passed. The reason Huey returned to Rosbon was to succeed his late father’s position.

“You resemble Count Altuart quite a lot.”

“Is that so?”

“When you were younger, I thought you looked exactly like Yvonne.”

Huey smiled slightly at Lennox’s comment. It wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t just Lennox’s opinion, either. Huey had the same black hair and wall-like eyes as Count Altuart, but his features were entirely like Yvonne’s. That’s why his father liked him.

Huey resembled Yvonne more than his own son did. Perhaps Huey was the person his father loved second most after Yvonne. That was the kind of person his father had been.

“Come to think of it, when I was younger, people used to say I looked a lot like my mother.”

“Perhaps that’s why your father favored you.”

Lennox muttered with a cynical tone. Huey, sensing the coldness in Lennox’s voice, lowered his gaze. The stories of his late mother and the late king were not subjects that would be welcomed even in their closest past.

Back then, when they were just eight-year-old kids who knew nothing, it was still that way. It was probably because of the adults who would gossip about them. Huey searched through the hazy fragments of his memory. As the king had said, his biological father, Richard III, had favored him more than his own prince.

When they found each other playing with soldier dolls, the king would always pick him up first. He would kiss him on the cheek and ask, “Have you been well?” The young Huey, not even knowing what the prince, the king’s true son, looked like, would embrace him and act spoiled.

Unlike his strict father, Richard III would often indulge him, as if he were his real father…

“Have you heard the story?”

“What story?”

“The story that you’re my half-brother.”

“What does it mean, ‘half’?”

“It means your mother is different.”

Huey recalled a rainy day. That summer, which was said to be the driest in decades, the long rains that continued for days were attributed to the king’s virtue and the queen’s piety in Rosbon.

The prince stared gloomily at the pouring rain. Huey watched the boy, who, unlike him, often wore a somber expression.

It was then that Huey first heard the word “half-brother.” It was a term so unfamiliar to him that, as a child, he could only try to pronounce it several times…

“I don’t mind.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I mean, that you’re my half-brother. I’m your older brother, right?”

The prince mumbled in a voice without laughter. Huey scratched his head and suggested they play chess. The prince looked at him gloomily but nodded.