The Flower Dances and the Wind Sings

He slowly gazed at the woman in front of him.

The woman who was the embodiment of all of the light in the whole world. For the first time ever, I desperately desired something.

For the first time in his life, he had used the word ‘son’ in front of his father, begging him for an ounce of sympathy.

‘It’s a family with many enemies. Don’t ruin your future for just a girl1.’

‘As you said, she’s just a girl.’

He begged and begged and begged until his father had reluctantly agreed, perhaps because he had taken pity on him. I didn’t know why I wanted her so badly.

Eurypitè.

Even though he knew what they meant, he didn’t know why he wanted to send them. I just wanted to keep her by my side.

As time went on, he began to realize what he felt for Ercella.

It began with Jerome Pasen.

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‘Pardon me for saying this, but Jerome Pasen, that man has shamed your wife before.’

He could not understand why his usually unperturbed insides became so furious at Count Pasen’s petty tricks. Those words twisted his stomach, as if his blood was flowing backwards.

Without hesitation, he sliced the neck of one of his own blood. And for the first time, he realized the emotions he felt for the woman.

But he ignored them. Arrogantly, he shunned his own heart.

Until I saw her crumbling in front of my eyes.

From then on, Ercella cried incessantly. Just like now.

Will she be crying again?

Will she be crying, sobbing, despairing and crumbling just like then? In front of me? How many times has it been? It’s been so many times that I’ve lost count.

‘Have you ever tried to understand me?’

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She asks me if I ever tried to understand her? There was one reason why he couldn’t say yes. He didn’t understand her.

She gave herself up for the sake of her noble family. As she wished, I raised her sister to the throne, supported her brother, and saved her family’s reputation.

His power, his honor, his military achievements, they were all dedicated to her family. Yet, when asked why she’s shriveling and withering away, she just closed her mouth. I felt stuffy because I couldn’t tell why she was losing her vitality day by day.

What’s giving her a hard time? Why is she crying? What more can I do to stop her from crying?

‘Please tell me what you want.’

‘Nothing.’

‘What do you want me to do?’

‘I don’t want anything.’

When pressed for an answer, she’d always just say, ‘I don’t know’ or, ‘It’s just strange’, and repeat ‘I’m sorry’. And the end was tears. What on earth should I understand?

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I love you.

I knew that she didn’t love me, but for the sake of being selfish, I still wanted to tell her that. However, if I tell that to a woman who suffers from not being able to love her son, and grieves for not being able to resent me, she will suffer trying to love me.

I was afraid that she’d cry like that again. I was afraid that she’d beat herself up again. Thus, the fleeting truth could never be spoken

I love you.

I was getting tired, so I thought I’d say it without much thought. Then she answered, ‘I love you too’. For her beloved family. Because of her responsibilities as a Bernhardt’s wife. She will suffer not being able to love me, yet will continue to whisper such words. She is a woman who will do that.

However, I was willing to live like that even if I felt mocked, deceived or tormented by her false confession.

‘I like you.’

Until I heard that. A fleeting confession, thoughtlessly spoken in an empty voice. I felt like my stomach was twisting up. I felt like I had been shoved into the mud, and was falling down into an endless abyss.

He felt such emotions for the first time in his life. Even when his father had pushed him to the extreme to test him, saying he could always abandon him, he had never felt the emotions he had experienced by her empty words.

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Misery. An emotion I had been unfamiliar with before. Only then did he realize. How much this woman, who he had considered a mere girl2, could hold and shake him up. How her words could turn his life upside down. When she cried, at first he was angry, then anxious, and finally anguished.

I love you.

A trifling truth

‘I like you.’

was buried in vain lies.

‘I like you.’

Without knowing how crazy I was to those words, she gradually began saying those words like a habit.

‘I like you, Harsen.’

It was like one word was able to solve everything, and I let myself be fooled even though I knew that her insignificant confession was a lie.

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‘You know.’

She always says that I know. It’s a little funny. How would I know something she doesn’t even know herself?

‘You know.’

That’s what she’d always say. ‘You know,’ with a pleasant voice.

‘You know, you’re my best choice.’

If so, who’s the next best person? Would she stop saying that if I trampled over and killed every single of her ‘bests’?

‘I should have ended things.’

She said in a weary voice, as if she had laid down everything.

I should have ended things.

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Those words rang in his ears once more, like an auditory hallucination, ravaging him over and over again.

Her tears, which had been quietly flowing down as if she had yielded, slowly stopped. Facing her empty blue eyes, everything that had previously been supporting him died.

Just like you,

I wonder, too.

Should we have finished things then?

I thought so for a moment. Even though I know I can’t let you go.

Harsen watched as Ercella slowly retreated. Before their gazes could become deeply entangled, Ercella turned around and left his vicinity. Without realizing it, his gaze followed her swollen and red foot until she left his sight.

* * *

Ercella, who had pushed the door open, froze on the spot.

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“…….”

Vicente stood right in front of her. As she watched him, her past guilt once again engulfed her.

Even so, Vicente’s eyes didn’t contain anything like contempt or disdain, something that did not weigh down the severity of her sin.

What have I done? How did I neglect this child for so many years? What on earth was I thinking…

How foolish have I been?

She smiled bitterly at herself. She was neither a good wife nor a good mother. She couldn’t stand those difficult times and had ended up breaking down.

Her burden had been shared by Harsen and Vicente. Another stream of water overlaid the dry tear marks.

I was so contemptible, so detestable, I hate myself for that.

Heartless wench, evil witch, a selfish bitch3.

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She had projected the wounds she had received onto Vicente. To an innocent child, who did nothing but be born. She wished to disappear if she could.

She couldn’t bring herself to face Vicente. But she couldn’t confront Harsen either. She didn’t deserve to stand in front of either of them. So, Ercella smiled with all her might at Vicente, “Next time.”

“…….”

“Let’s talk about it next time.” At the end of the sentence, Ercella left as if she were running away.

* * *

The woman smiled habitually. Does she realize how distorted her smile is? He saw a woman staggering, with her back towards him. As she leaned against the wall, her legs trembled pitifully, barely taking one step at a time.

Yet she did not stop. Is she weak or strong? Her steps were very slow because of her swollen foot. At that speed, Vicente easily matched Ercella’s footsteps.

He had thought nothing of it. He just wondered how far she could go. Finally, the last stop of her slow pace was at the door of her room. Vicente smirked. The place she ran away to was the bedroom after all. That’s the only place she can escape from Father and me. Even if she was trying to escape, it was in the castle, in the end, she was still within the palm of Harsen’s hand. Ultimately, those matters were all trivial, pointless.

The woman who opened the door as if about to collapse disappeared. Vicente stopped in front of the closed door. As he concentrated, he could hear her crying.

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What’s so sad about it?

I’ve been standing here for a while, and I don’t think the sobbing will stop any time soon. He unwittingly swept his face with one hand.

Vicente was as troubled by Ercella as his father. She had never greeted him before, but one day she suddenly came to the training grounds and patted him on the shoulder.

The emotion he had felt that day was really strange. When the door opened and a person who usually acted as if she never existed appeared, he mistook her for a hallucination. As he continued to focus on training, thinking she would disappear, a maid approached him. Lianne, was it?

‘Madam wishes to see you for a moment.’

Only then did Vicente realize that Ercella’s appearance was not a hallucination. Vicente was not used to the woman holding her hands together as she faced him. Except for dinner, they had only met several times while passing by, because they lived in the same space.

But that day, I felt a disparity in the appearance of the woman. He had offhandedly assumed that maybe it was because the setting had changed.

But Ercella’s eccentricity did not end that day. Her gaze towards Vicente was no longer cold, and her tone gradually softened.

As a matter of fact, he still felt no emotion towards her. There was some strangeness, but his heart was still arid. I don’t know what it is, but she must need me for something.

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I used to think that. At first, I thought that it was not strange because we both were using each other, and so I had calculated the pros and cons.

But increasingly, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Ercella was treating him sincerely. She was showing kindness. The warmth I was never given. Vicente was embarrassed that he had actually sensed it in her. It was since then that I despised that woman.

It started with ‘Now’4.

Why are you like this now?

What are you trying to do now?

Now5 that I’ve come to hate you.

Now?

Now?!

Next was anger. You had neglected me, shamelessly, without even considering that I was a child. You heartlessly abandoned me.

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He found everything about Ercella ridiculous. But what was more ridiculous was himself. At some point, he couldn’t cut her off. He wondered why he couldn’t turn away. To just throw her away like she did to him.

He could just throw her away, over and over again until the fragile woman collapsed on her own. But he couldn’t do it.

Why? Is it because she’s my mother? Isn’t this too unfair? I’ve been discarded so many times and I can’t even pay back? It was maddeningly unfair, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was dumbfounded by himself.

Blood was meaningless to him. So even the blood relationship with Ercella meant nothing to Vicente. It shouldn’t have meant anything. It should’ve been nothing.

Son.

But as soon as he heard that, Vicente realized that the word was etched inside him in some form or another. He laughed inwardly.

Son. That word… Is it so easy for you to say? How can you speak it so casually? How can you smile with such an innocent look? And how can I not hate that word? Vicente couldn’t stand his own absurd behavior. How is this any different than being a bastard6? Clearly, something somewhere was very off.

… Mother.

Why are you my mother?

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She had already lost her qualification to be one. A beautiful, noble and beloved woman. That was why she only cared about herself. A woman who was selfish through and through. Such was his mother.

So now she doesn’t deserve to use the word ‘mother’. I wish she treated me this way from the beginning, so why now? As time went by, his feelings for Ercella became increasingly complicated.

Do I despise her? Yes.

Do I loathe her? Yes.

Do I feel angry towards her? Yes.

Do I hate her? Yes.

Do I resent her? Yes.

Do I pity her… I guess I do.

Then what is it? This weird, crazy, hard-to-define thing… I don’t know. He gave up answering this time as well[efn_note]Refer to chapter 29, Vicente’s perspective. He uses a similar sentence there too, haha.[/efn_note].

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“Don’t cry.”

Right now, I just don’t want you to cry.

* * *

Harsen’s perspective is always been my favorite to translate. Vicente right after that. All in all, it was good chapter to translate.

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