The Bloom of Violet

Lila, who had seen the doctor out, looked pale.

“Ann.”

“Yes…?”

“Have you ever met your aunts?”

The question came out of nowhere. Ann slowly shook her head. Lila’s face grew even darker, but Ann couldn’t bring herself to ask why. She simply watched as Lila sighed heavily again and again.

“How old are you this year?”

“I’m five.”

“Five, I see.”

Ann was indeed five years old. Though she was thin as a twig and small for her age, people often remarked on how mature she seemed compared to other children. She was also bright, often solving math problems that even the master’s daughter couldn’t handle. Taking care of her mother seemed like something she could manage as well.

“…You have to take good care of your mother,” Lila said, wiping away quiet tears as she caressed Ann’s cheek.

Ann nodded. Lila couldn’t stay by her side for long—she had seven children of her own. If it hadn’t been for the closeness she shared with An’s mother, she wouldn’t have been able to leave her responsibilities for this long.

Though she didn’t fully understand the struggles of adults, Ann knew that Lila worked hard. So she encouraged her to go home quickly, seeing her off with a polite farewell. Afterward, she was left alone with her mother.

She looked down at her pale mother, whose face was unmistakably that of a sick person.

“Mom, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you now. Just get better, okay?”

She whispered as she wiped the cold sweat from her mother’s brow. She wrapped her arms around her feverish mother’s neck, murmuring prayers to the father she could no longer remember.

Dad, if you’re in heaven… if you’re watching over us, please help Mom get better. Please let her and me live a long, healthy life together.

But her prayers went unanswered. Her mother didn’t live much longer.

Years later, Ann found herself recalling the faint memory of her mother’s face as she sat with Lennox’s mother. The queen mother, with her long, perfectly coiled black hair, gazed lovingly at her son, as she always did.

But Lennox wasn’t looking at his mother. His eyes were fixed on the white porcelain teacup cradled in Ann’s pale fingers. Ann sat between them, quietly stroking the delicate teacup embossed with floral patterns, its red tea shimmering within.

“I heard you’ll be taking Ann to the Saphoras estate. Will Charlotte be accompanying you?”

“No. Charlotte doesn’t like the forest.”

“Oh dear. But Charlotte would enjoy anything as long as it’s with you.”

“She finds fishing boring and doesn’t care much for hunting.”

“But isn’t Ann also not particularly fond of hunting? Isn’t that right, An?”

Caught in the middle of the silent power struggle between mother and son, Ann felt like she was withering under the tension. Ingrid’s piercing blue eyes turned to her, and An’s dry lips felt parched. She didn’t know how to respond.

In moments like this, whose side was she supposed to take?

For years now, this battle of wills had raged on, yet Ann still didn’t know how to react properly. The Duchess of Valenska had once advised her to avoid sitting with the two of them altogether. If only it were that simple.

“I…”

“Ann enjoys wandering the forest,” Lennox interrupted. “She also likes watching me hunt.”

“In that case, Charlotte would enjoy it too. Take her along next time. That way, Ann won’t feel lonely.”

“Did Charlotte ask to come along?” Lennox asked, his voice cold.

“Lennox.”

Ingrid’s sharp yet composed voice spilled from her crimson lips. Lennox met his mother’s steady gaze with one of his own.

He had no intention of taking Charlotte to Saphoras. That place was a private retreat for him and Ann alone.

Every summer, they went to Saphoras together. The seaside estate, surrounded by forest, was both tranquil and secluded. It lacked the grand balls and lively city atmosphere Charlotte preferred. He knew from experience that she wouldn’t enjoy it.

Charlotte found rural villas like Saphoras dull and dreary. When she visited in the past, she had invited her friends and spent the evenings gambling and dancing.

He didn’t care what she did, as long as she didn’t try to separate him from Ann or cast her watchful, competitive gaze at her. He loathed the way Charlotte whispered cutting remarks to her friends, pretending they weren’t insults, all while keeping her sights set on Ann.

Lennox was tired of watching Ann squirm under her gaze, trying to avoid provoking her. An was his. Whether as a friend or otherwise, it didn’t matter. It didn’t even matter how their relationship was defined.

“The royal wedding isn’t far off.”

“You don’t need to remind me,” Lennox replied sharply.

Ingrid’s expression hardened at her son’s brusque tone. He had been particularly irritable lately. Though Lennox had never been easygoing, his mood now was sharper than ever.

She thought of her late husband, a man who could sometimes seem indifferent in his placidity. Lennox resembled him physically but clearly hadn’t inherited that temperament.

“Still, in one way, they’re the same,” she mused.

Both wanted women who didn’t suit them. Yes, that much they had in common.

Ingrid turned her gaze to the pale woman sitting awkwardly, as if on a bed of thorns. Fourteen years had passed since she first met Ann. Even as a scrawny girl, her beauty had been remarkable.

“But surely she can’t compare to Charlotte,” Ingrid thought to herself.

Society women close to Charlotte’s mother whispered about Ann, the girl who had “captured the eccentric prince’s heart.” They dismissed her beauty, saying she paled in comparison to the radiant Charlotte. “Charming for a commoner child,” they admitted, “but that’s all.”

“So, she’s nothing,” they concluded.

But even now, Lennox’s heart still lingered on that ‘nothing’—the commoner girl. And that was the problem. No matter how beautiful Charlotte was, it was useless to Lennox.

“Still, Ann knows her place.”

This was something Helena de Valenska often said. Having raised Ann with some care, Helena was a close ally of Count Herbon’s wife, Sophia, and they both sided with Ann. Ann was not greedy. She had no desire for the position of queen, nor did she wish to be adopted into a noble family.

What if Ann had been someone else? What if she had been as clever as Ann, but greedy as well?

“Ann doesn’t know about those things. If she did, she would’ve tried to become the adopted daughter of me or Sophie. That would’ve certainly ruffled Lady Charlotte’s feathers… though even if she didn’t become queen, that would have been fine.”

Helena, who had been quietly sipping her tea, spoke. Her words were accurate. Ann knew her place. And that was why she didn’t earn the resentment of anyone except Charlotte.

The reason the maids defended Ann was not because she was special. It wasn’t because her beauty was too precious for a commoner, either.

“What do you think, Ann?”

Ingrid asked, pulling her lips into a slight smile, testing her. Ann, who had been gently caressing the surface of her teacup, looked up and met Ingrid’s gaze. Her unusually pale face was shadowed with something deeper.

“…With my limited understanding, I think it would be better to spend the summer in the palace rather than the villa this year, since the royal wedding is approaching.”

Ann tried not to stutter. Lennox didn’t look at her either. Ingrid seemed pleased with the answer. She responded with, “That’s a good idea.” Ann nodded in agreement.

“The Saphoras estate can be visited anytime, next year or the year after…”

Ann’s voice trailed off. The cold gaze that Lennox directed at her felt like a needle. But this was the right thing to do. To calm the turmoil within, Ann took a sip of her hot tea. She had heard there was honey in it, but she couldn’t taste a hint of sweetness.