Episode 5 –
Benjamin gently swirled his glass and called out to Joshua.
“Josh.”
“…Yeah, Benji?”
“Sophia is… twelve now, right?”
“That’s right.”
Twelve—and she had said she wanted to die.
“…That’s not something a kid that age should be saying, is it?”
“Definitely not.”
At just five years old, Sophia had lost every support she had.
Her only blood relative, Benny. Bled, who had been like a father. Chase, who had cared for her deeply.
Even though she tried her best to be composed, the reason she eventually came to such thoughts was probably because they had suddenly cut her off.
Back when she was five, she had been able to pretend to be strong—because Joshua and Benjamin were still there.
A person’s heart is shaped by their environment and circumstances. And they were part of the environment that had driven her to those thoughts.
What use was good treatment, or kindness from the servants, when the people she had once considered family had treated her like she didn’t exist for years?
Confronting the consequences of his own mistakes, Benjamin sighed and gripped his glass tightly.
“She must’ve been so lonely.”
“We don’t know. We’re not Sophia.”
“…Yeah.”
“We couldn’t understand her pain—and we didn’t even try.”
They couldn’t. Strange dreams had started, and a no-contact order was issued. They had been barely holding themselves together, and Sophia had no space in their thoughts.
But even so, they knew all of that was just an excuse.
Even with the order, they hadn’t been the kind of people who obeyed Bled blindly. They could have asked about Sophia through attendants, or sent her letters.
But they didn’t—because they were afraid.
“…Honestly, I’m glad Sophia sent the gifts back. At least it means she doesn’t want to see us.”
Joshua calmly voiced his thoughts.
“There’s no need to meet. She doesn’t want to.”
“…Yeah.”
“Even if Sophia wanted to see you or me, we wouldn’t go see her.”
His words pierced deep, and Benjamin could only offer a bitter smile.
They couldn’t go. Because they were afraid.
“Because I don’t know when I’ll have that dream again.”
The dream—like someone was forcing it on them—left them with a chilling sense of dread once they woke. But even worse, it stirred something primal.
So intense that it couldn’t be controlled by reason. A dream that drove them mad.
And when they woke from it, only one thing would fill their mind.
Hatred toward Sophia.
They had no idea why. Why they felt that way, or thought such thoughts. It was like the madness people had accused their own mother of.
Not long after the dreams started, the no-contact order was given. Originally, they had lived with Sophia in Rosent Castle, but were forcibly relocated to Forn Castle.
From Bled’s point of view, it probably made sense—he wouldn’t want to keep the children of someone who tried to kill Sophia near her.
And soon enough, they came to agree—it had been the right decision.
“I’m scared Sophia will get hurt.”
Benjamin murmured.
That instinct couldn’t be suppressed.
That inexplicable hatred and madness might hurt that fragile child. So they didn’t go near her. And they never would.
But he didn’t want to leave things as they were. Because staying away was only making Sophia lonelier and more hurt.
That’s why he’d sent a gift first, wondering what he could possibly do—but even that was the wrong approach.
Even if he apologized, it would be meaningless if he didn’t plan to see Sophia again. It would just be an attempt to lessen his own guilt.
“Don’t bother trying to figure out what to do for Sophia.”
Joshua spoke as if he could see straight through Benjamin.
“Just keep living as you are. Loray will take good care of her.”
“…Yeah.”
“Don’t try to act like a good person now. Just stay the bad guy from beginning to end so Sophia can hate us as much as she wants.”
That would be easier.
Joshua spoke with a calm voice. But he didn’t meet Benjamin’s eyes—which meant it wasn’t entirely the truth.
He probably did want to see her. Right now, even. But he couldn’t—and that made him angrier than anyone.
Still, Benjamin couldn’t think of a better answer. Trying to get close again might just end up hurting Sophia.
He stopped himself from taking another step toward her and instead brought up what he’d heard that morning.
“Come to think of it, I heard someone from Powip is arriving today.”
Powip was a country to the west of the central castle—its lord was a flower mage, and it was known to be a haven for mages.
Whenever someone from Powip came, it was always for one reason: to deliver the seeds of the undying flower.
Because of their rarity and need for special care, they couldn’t be sent casually. So each year, someone came from Powip to deliver them personally.
This exchange had begun with Chase. When she decided to create a garden for Benny, dreaming of an undying garden, she’d initiated a deal with Powip.
Bled had never stopped that arrangement. They didn’t know why. He had always kept silent.
“Young master.”
A quiet knock and a voice called from outside.
The attendant who entered with Benjamin’s permission wasn’t his own. It was Dane, Bled’s personal attendant. He bowed politely and spoke.
“You’re both here.”
“What’s going on?”
Dane only came when Bled gave them direct orders.
As expected, Dane said politely yet firmly:
“I’ve come to escort the young masters to Rosent Castle.”
To Rosent Castle—where Sophia was? Bled was personally allowing them to enter that castle?
“…Wait. We’ll go after we’ve sorted these gifts.”
This was… an unexpected development indeed.
“You want to go to the garden? Alone?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I want to see the flowers.”
Loray smiled gently as she brushed Sophia’s pale lavender hair. In the mirror, Sophia caught sight of that smile.
Loray had figured out the real reason Sophia wanted to go there.
Because that child would be there.
“If I let you go alone, then when you return, you have to open the gift boxes with me. Understood?”
“Okay.”
She had sent back the gifts from Joshua and Benjamin, but those from the Lord and the servants were still there.
She already knew what was inside. She couldn’t open the boxes with excited anticipation—but she could pretend to be excited.
That would be the polite thing to do.
“Should I tie your hair?”
“No. Don’t put any decorations in.”
Dressed in a deep violet dress, Sophia got off the chair and grabbed the doorknob.
She gave Loray a look, silently saying goodbye, and walked lightly toward the garden.
She greeted the servants cheerfully when they wished her a good morning, and finally reached the garden—a place so lush it seemed to have stolen all the morning sunshine.
At the entrance, a gardener was fumbling nervously with a hose, watering the plants.
“Deflyn.”
“Young miss?”
The gardener, with pink eyes, turned toward Sophia. She quickly turned off the hose and ran over.
“Young miss!”
Deflyn smiled as brightly as the sun and lifted Sophia up in a big hug. Feeling her feet leave the ground—like becoming a bird—was lovely.
But something ruined the moment.
The hose, which had supposedly been turned off, suddenly burst to life again.
As it flew around, spraying water everywhere, Deflyn hurriedly set Sophia down and ran to catch it.
She’d forgotten the hose would start up again. No matter how many times she returned in time, she didn’t remember every minor event.
Sophia stepped back to a drier spot and watched Deflyn.
“Haha, this hose is acting up again. Did you get wet, young miss?”
“I’m fine.”
Deflyn, already soaked, still hadn’t lost her smile.
“Go get changed. I’ll watch things here for you.”
“It’s okay. The sun is out—it’ll dry quickly…”
“You’ll catch a cold.”
She vaguely remembered Deflyn having caught one before. She wanted her to go change clothes quickly.
Deflyn hesitated a bit, then wrung out her damp brown hair.
“Then I’ll be back. Just a moment!”
“Take your time.”
With Deflyn gone, Sophia stepped deeper into the garden, now glistening from the spray of water.
Past the red roses her mother had loved, and further inward—she saw him.
Sitting in the middle of a blooming bed of yellow freesias was a child.
A tied-up ponytail of dark crimson hair. That back—how long had it been?
Sophia walked briskly into the flower bed and sat beside the boy.
“What are you doing here, Lune?”
When she asked, the boy—called Lune—paused his busy hands and turned to her.
Delicate facial features and soft pink eyes, like Deflyn’s. He gave off the scent of spring sunshine.
“I was waiting for you, young miss. Good morning.”
His cheeks flushed as he spoke to her. He was always like this.
Yes—his smile had always remained in her memories. Because he had vanished before she ever saw him grown.
