Chapter 04
Crackling sounds of burning wood echoed through the dark bedroom.
Although the weather had gotten warmer, Marie lit the fireplace for the young lady who was sick with a bad cold.
Elisa sat in front of the fireplace, hugging her knees.
The warm firelight gently touched her gloomy face.
Staring blankly at the flickering flames like a lost soul, Elisa’s gaze landed on the vase by the window.
“Do you really like yellow roses that much, young lady?” Marie asked.
Above the yellow roses she had arranged beautifully, faded old memories surfaced.
The background was blurry, but the grey eyes were staring at her.
“Most people don’t like yellow roses because their meaning is negative…”
“It’s not the flower that decides the meaning, but people. So there’s no need to care about those meanings.”
“That may be true… but I worry that some people might misunderstand.”
“Are you saying you misunderstand, too?”
When young Elisa asked while moving her face closer to him, Ethan flinched and leaned back.
His grey eyes, now filled with embarrassment, trembled slightly.
Elisa liked the moments when his usually colourless grey eyes showed emotions.
Especially if it was because of her.
So when she stared at his eyes, Ethan’s ears turned bright red and he shook his head.
“No, I could never misunderstand you, young lady. I was just worried about you… I apologise if I was rude.”
“Then, later, give me a bouquet of yellow roses for my birthday. It feels better to receive flowers as a gift than to buy them yourself.”
At that time, young Elisa didn’t know how expensive yellow roses were, so she said it without thinking.
Ethan seemed to know, judging by his reaction, but he never said it would be difficult or impossible.
“Yes, I will give you some, young lady.”
He said this firmly, clenching both fists, and young Elisa smiled innocently.
Later, when she heard from the butler that a bouquet of yellow roses cost about a year’s salary for a servant, she was shocked.
She remembered running to Ethan to say he didn’t need to give her yellow roses, that flower gifts were only for lovers.
Elisa recalled the incident and bit her lip.
Maybe he did remember that promise. and he sent the bouquet for that reason?
It’s common to give flowers to people who aren’t lovers, but since it was from Ethan and it was a yellow rose, she couldn’t help but have doubts.
Why now, if that’s the case and that’s how he meant it?
He hadn’t sent a single letter in four years, so why was he doing this now?
Elisa couldn’t understand Ethan’s actions.
She didn’t want to understand either.
She felt so foolish and pathetic for worrying this much over a single bouquet that it gave her a headache.
Her eyes burned as she stared fiercely at the yellow roses, then suddenly stood up.
She strode to the window and grabbed the blooming yellow roses.
The small thorns that she hadn’t removed pricked her skin, but she didn’t flinch.
Instead, she squeezed harder, and the delicate petals crumbled miserably.
Still not satisfied, she took the flowers to the fireplace.
Wherever she passed, drops of red blood stained the floor, leaving painful marks.
Forget him.
That kind of guy—just forget him.
Elisa raised her arm high, determined.
The few petals that were left on the flower scattered to the floor.
Her arm trembled even more from the force she used.
Her blue eyes staring at the burning flames trembled too.
Why can’t I let go?
I’m aware that it will hurt and that I will cry uncontrollably.
Elisa bit her lip tightly because she couldn’t comprehend herself any better than Ethan, the person who gave her the yellow roses.
A moment ago, the flames soothed her hurting heart; now, they danced as if to mock her.
“Forget. You have to forget!”
She shouted as if trying to gather her strength and closed her eyes tightly.
She succeeded in swinging her arm, but that was all.
The yellow rose she failed to throw into the fireplace dropped at her feet.
Her face looked as sad and worn as the rose with more than half its petals fallen.
Elisa sat down on the floor and covered her increasingly hot face with her hands.
Her shoulders shook without stopping until the moon, high in the sky, tilted far away.
***
When he lifted the document, the imperial seal gleamed brightly.
It was an official decree granting Ethan Esteban the title of baron.
Normally, someone who isn’t a family head gets a new noble surname when granted a title, but not Ethan.
The Esteban family had no noble titleholders before, so now, they became the Esteban Barony.
Soon, Ethan would also inherit the position of family head.
Only by name.
The Esteban family consisted of nothing more than an old man with white hair and his wife.
They had a child once, but he died young in an unfortunate accident.
Other relatives were scattered and no longer in contact.
Though they were nobles, they had no title, no wealth, and no honour.
That’s why the family head was quick to adopt Ethan as their heir, even though they weren’t related by blood.
There was only one requirement, of course: Ethan had to look after them for the rest of their lives.
A lifetime? Ethan almost refused.
After all, he would become a noble once he received the title, and didn’t want to be tied down.
“You don’t know how much people look down on commoners who become nobles.”
That was what Howard said seriously, trying to stop him.
Howard insisted it would be better to start life already holding a noble title, even if it was just for appearances.
In the end, Ethan accepted.
“Ethan Esteban.”
Even after repeating it dozens of times, the name still felt strange to him.
His eyes narrowed.
Maybe it never would feel right.
If he kept his promise, he’d give up the name Esteban one day anyway.
“Ethan.”
Just as he was staring at the papers, lost in thought, a beautiful voice like a songbird broke his focus.
He turned his head.
Standing beneath a tree blooming with soft pink flowers was a woman with fiery red hair.
“Your Highness, Princess.”
It was Camilla von Martinez, second princess of the Petra Kingdom and half-sister to Prince Howard.
Camilla had just entered adulthood the year before, and immediately took the social world by storm, becoming known as the jewel of the ballroom—a title she well deserved for her stunning beauty.
She was also gentle and kind, beloved by nearly everyone in the kingdom.
“I heard you’ve become a baron. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
It wasn’t just a polite excuse—he truly meant it.
Accepting a gift from a princess could bring unpredictable consequences, so it was safest to accept nothing at all.
“A hero who saved the Kingdom of Petra shouldn’t be treated like that.”
Camilla approached lightly, as if walking on clouds, and held his hand tightly with both of hers.
Her blue eyes, looking at Ethan, sparkled shyly.
Anyone could tell she was a girl in love.
When Ethan gave a blunt answer about what gift he wanted, Camilla quietly laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.
“I should give you a gift, not just say congratulations. But I heard about it by chance while on my way to see His Majesty, so I wasn’t prepared.”
“That’s alright. Just your congratulations are enough for me.”
“I’ve been thinking about it for days, but I can’t think of anything suitable. Is there something you need?”
She said she heard it by chance on her way to the king but then said she’d been thinking for days—her words didn’t add up.
Ethan smiled inwardly.
He knew Camilla was doing this on purpose, which made the situation even more annoying.
“It’s fine. You must be busy preparing for the royal wedding, so there’s no need to worry about someone like me.”
Having many heirs and getting married young were viewed as virtues by royalty.
They typically became engaged at the age of fifteen and were married as soon as they reached adulthood.
Camilla was supposed to follow this too, but the war delayed her wedding.
Now that the war was over, barring any unexpected events, the royal wedding would be held within the year.
When the topic of marriage came up, Camilla’s face suddenly darkened.
Her tearful eyes were pitiful enough to evoke sympathy, but Ethan’s expression remained indifferent.
“Ethan, I—”
“Not Ethan, Baron Estevan.”
Ethan politely corrected her and pulled his hand away.
At that moment, a tear that had been barely held back fell from the princess’s eye.
If it had been anyone else, he would have ignored it, but Camilla was the king’s most beloved daughter, so he couldn’t.
Sighing with a hint of annoyance, Ethan took a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her.
“I became Baron Estevan today.”
Howard had nagged him to always carry a handkerchief, so he reluctantly brought one, but he never thought he’d use it like this.
“The ink on the title document hasn’t dried yet. Please help ensure I never have to return this to His Majesty.”
Camilla lowered her head helplessly at his gentle but firm refusal.
Her pale hands clenched tightly around the handkerchief.
“Well then.”
Ethan bowed politely and turned away.
He heard a faint sob behind him but never looked back once.
