RODH Chapter 39
by Brie39.
–The one who brings spring sat upon the wall.
The one who brings spring took a great fall.
Despite everyone’s efforts, they could not restore him to how he once was.
But there was a secret no one knew…
The one who brings spring cannot die before the curse of Kirias is broken!
Ahahaha!
Ahahaha!
“My lord, waaahhh!”
From early morning, Bain was clinging to me in tears.
“You’re really alright, right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Even though I told him I was fine, Bain kept circling around me, inspecting me over and over.
I finally said to him,
“You’re being too much. Sit down, Bain. I’d like to eat my breakfast in peace.”
“Sniff… okay. But my lord, we must tell the Duke about what happened—”
“Bain.”
Seor had handled the aftermath of yesterday’s incident.
It didn’t feel great—more like I owed him now—but I was still thankful.
If he hadn’t, my mother would’ve fainted again foaming at the mouth, and my father would’ve spent the whole night sitting at my bedside in a panic.
And my sisters? The news would’ve reached them and they’d probably come storming into the estate one after another.
“Ugh…”
Just imagining all four of them descending on me at once made my shoulders tense up in dread.
Seeing that, Bain panicked again.
“You really are feeling unwell! Lie down this instant! I’ll call the doctor—waaah!”
“No, Bain, that’s not it—”
“Then I’m telling the Duke right away!”
“…Fine. I’ll lie down. Just let me finish eating first.”
They say lying down right after eating turns you into a cow, but it looked like Bain had every intention of turning me into one.
As I lay still, half-laughing at the ridiculous thought, a tap tap came from the window—a single owl perched there.
“I’ll go check!”
Not a hawk—an owl?
Someone immediately came to mind, and sure enough, a video letter activated through a magical device and appeared in the air.
–Ahem… To the Honorable Young Lord of House Ruben, Ian Pearl Ruben. I’m not sure if this video is showing clearly.
It’s showing very clearly.
I could even see how many times he blinked per second—dozens, apparently.
–The reason I’m sending this letter is… well, I wanted to apologize for the unfortunate incident last time, which led to your disciplinary confinement, and so I’ve sent a gift.
A gift?
Bain was holding a leather pouch in his arms.
It wasn’t too heavy for its size, and he handed it to me easily.
When I opened it, I found a sapling, a trowel, and several different potions inside.
–It’s a Winstol tree sapling. I was originally planning to show it to you when you visited the tower, but as I’ve mentioned several times, you’ve been unable to come due to that cursed disciplinary order. It’s unfortunate.
I let out a small laugh.
Alvis really has a surprisingly innocent side.
Judging by how hard he’d taken the last incident, he’d definitely been manipulated by Lucian.
Before I realized it, the video message was wrapping up.
–I hope my intentions are conveyed. Think of it as a little retreat while you plant something. That should bring some peace to your mind. I’ll end the message here. I hope we’ll meet again at the tower someday…
With that, Alvis’s image disappeared.
Bain stood there, staring blankly at the space where the message had been.
He looked fascinated, probably because he’d never seen something like it before.
“Bain.”
“Ah! Yes, my lord.”
“Let’s go for a walk. Might as well plant the tree while we’re at it.”
“No, absolutely not. You need to rest!”
Bain refused flatly, but I really wanted to move a bit.
“I just feel cooped up. After everything that happened inside the house yesterday… If it were you, would you want to stay in all day?”
It looked like my reasoning worked, because Bain reluctantly nodded.
Planting the Winstol tree wasn’t difficult.
As soon as I started touching the soil again, the attendants rushed over in a panic shouting, “Oh no, my lord!” rolling up their sleeves to stop me—but I sent them away, insisting I’d do it myself.
Just as Alvis had advised, planting the tree really did lift my spirits.
And then—
“My lord! My lord! The tree has bloomed!”
It had only been a few days since we planted it, yet Bain came rushing in with that news.
“You must be seeing things, Bain.”
“No, I’m certain! Several white buds have already sprouted. In a little while, we’ll be able to see beautiful blossoms.”
“…Let’s go take a look first.”
“I’m coming with you, my lord!”
I hurried down the stairs.
The Winstol tree is said to bloom once every hundred years.
Even if the fertilizer Alvis gave me was exceptionally effective, flowers blooming in less than two weeks?
It sounded absurd—but what was happening before my very eyes was absurd.
The bare branches had split like a deer’s antlers, and in the spaces between, white buds had blossomed.
I gently touched the sapling.
“How can a tree that hasn’t even grown leaves bloom like this?”
“Maybe the medicine Alvis gave you had some special effect?”
“No… if that were the case, the tree would’ve grown much larger.”
I looked up at the summer sunlight, already stinging my eyes.
“We’ll need to water it plenty. Otherwise, it’ll dry up and wither away.”
“These roots feel pretty sturdy, though. When we first planted it, the tree looked a little wilted.”
Leaving Bain to chatter behind me, I went to fetch a watering can.
Just as I was about to carry the water back, Bain ran over with a loud, “I’ll do it!” and snatched the can from my hands.
“You’re not trying to flood the garden, are you?”
“No, no! I just want to water the other plants too.”
“Alright. Thanks, Bain.”
While Bain busied himself watering the rest of the garden, I took the chance to collect a few of the Winstol tree’s buds.
The reason I keep returning in time…
The song about the one who brings spring…
The truth might finally be within reach.
Grand Duke’s Estate, Kirias.
The monthly meeting proceeded no differently than usual.
But once the topic of the “one who brings spring” came up, the table quickly descended into chaos as factions split and arguments broke out.
Nevan sighed as he watched his retainers bicker like quarrelsome bears.
His mind longed to escape this noisy mess and find peace.
And so, a thought rose to the surface—
‘What do you think about the one who brings spring?’
Ian.
His flawless skin, like pearls, shone even brighter under sunlight.
His eyes, impossible to gauge the depth of, were merciful and beautiful enough to perceive another’s sorrow.
And the way his black hair fluttered in the breeze—it was as light as a veil of silk.
Nevan had believed he didn’t know Ian very well, but realized now he knew more about him than expected.
He had read every letter Ian sent, not missing a single word.
His own replies were short, admittedly due to his lacking writing skills…
‘Could that be why he hasn’t replied?’
Before he realized it, Nevan found himself anxiously waiting for Ian’s response.
He took a sip of water, throat dry with anticipation.
And that’s when it happened.
A hawk shot into the meeting room and landed directly on Nevan’s shoulder.
“……”
Everyone—those arguing and those simply watching—turned to stare at Nevan.
Their eyes were full of curiosity about the letter.
Nevan would’ve preferred to read it in private, but Luke kept clearing his throat and nudging him to open it, so he had no choice but to press the magical device tied to the hawk’s leg.
And then, something completely unexpected fluttered out.
“What… is this?”
The objects that rolled across the table were freshly picked flower buds.
They were white, with three or four delicate petals each.
The name of the flower was…
“Gasp—this is…!”
“What? What is it?”
“This flower… this flower right here!”
“What about the bud?”
As the men all fussed and clamored, an elderly retainer named Morris held one of the buds in his palm and spoke.
A clear smile bloomed across his face.
“This flower is from the Winstol tree. Your Grace, I don’t know who sent the letter, but… it seems that spring may finally be coming to Kirias.”
As the retainers looked at Nevan’s unusually bright face, one by one they began to chime in.
“Is it really a Winstol blossom?”
“More importantly—who sent the letter?”
“Yes, who could’ve sent such a precious gift…?”
Nevan hesitated.
If he mentioned Ian’s name, the elders might be summoned that very moment.
But it’s hard to keep a known truth secret.
Luke, already aware of Ian’s identity, shouted out boldly:
“It’s Lord Ian of House Ruben!”
“Lord Ruben? You mean the scoundrel from the ducal house?”
“Scoundrel? That was ages ago! I heard he’s retired completely from society.”
“Right, he came north recently for his heir training, didn’t he?”
As the room buzzed with speculation, Nevan quickly scanned the letter’s contents.
[…I planted the Winstol sapling that Alvis gave me, and it bloomed in less than two weeks.
Is there any story about the one who brings spring? Perhaps an old song or tale? If there is, please let me know.
I must find out why this tree suddenly flowered.]
Though that was all the letter said, Nevan could tell.
Ian had found something.
Just like how his expression had shifted when Luke first mentioned the one who brings spring—he must have uncovered some kind of truth.
As Nevan was considering sending an invitation, Morris spoke up.
“The last time we saw the Winstol tree bloom was sixty years ago. Your Grace, this is not something to be taken lightly. It’s time we convened the Council of Elders again.”
Nevan appeared to hesitate, but soon gave a nod.
“I allow it.”
“And please, Your Grace, write to the King of the Dragon Clan as well.”
“A letter?”
“Yes. We cannot simply let the imperial family steal the one who brings spring away from us.”
A smile, full of age and quiet wisdom, formed at the corner of Morris’s lips.