Sona had been waiting anxiously outside the room, and her face lit up the moment Riersha stepped into the hallway.
“Miss Riersha, did the cake delivery go well?”
“Mm-hm.”
“…You don’t look well. Did something happen inside?”
Sona’s expression grew serious as she studied Riersha’s face — she looked as though she were about to cry.
Only moments ago, Riersha had been positively glowing at the thought of bringing Isierd his cake. That same girl now stood before her with hollow eyes.
Riersha shook her head, as if to say it was nothing.
And yet her crimson eyes had gone very still, settled into a quiet, sunken calm.
“Nuffing.”
“…”
“I jus’ think Isierd is too good, and it makes me sad.”
Ah. Sona let out a silent, aching sigh somewhere deep in her chest.
Tenderhearted as she was, Riersha had looked at the boy behind that door and felt sorry for him — genuinely, painfully sorry.
That was why she wore this expression, as though she might break at any moment.
“…I see.”
“Mm. It makes me sad that Isierd has to hide and disappear.”
Because it felt like looking at herself, from a time not so long ago.
That was why it hurt so much.
With Sona’s help, Riersha slipped quietly out of the castle. She was walking down the path, releasing a small sigh, when she stopped.
“…Hm?”
A familiar silhouette.
At an hour close to midnight, Pernoa was walking somewhere with quiet, unhurried steps.
Riersha hesitated, then called out to him gently.
“Appa?”
“…Riersha?”
Pernoa turned, and for a brief moment, surprise crossed his face at finding her here. His gaze shifted to Sona, and a slight frown formed.
“Still not back inside at this hour.”
“…Appa, where are you—”
Riersha started to ask, then pressed her lips together.
She already knew, without having to ask.
The single white lily he held in his hand told her everything.
“If you’re not going to sleep just yet, would you like to come along.”
Today was Riersha’s birthday. But it was also the death anniversary of Yerena — the lady of the Arachrene household.
⁂
Deep within the grounds of the Arachrene estate, tucked away from the rest of the world, was a family mausoleum forbidden to outsiders.
Riersha held Pernoa’s hand as she walked, taking in her surroundings with careful, wondering eyes.
She hadn’t known a place like this existed within the estate.
It was called a family tomb, and yet there was nothing frightening about it.
If anything, it was remarkably clean — serene, almost restful in the way it settled around her.
The hour was late, nearly midnight, but mana stones had been placed at intervals throughout the space, keeping it softly, evenly lit.
“This is where the ancestors of the Arachrene family rest, beginning with the founding duke.”
“…”
“Every year when this day comes, I walk here at this hour.”
Riersha listened in silence and thought to herself:
So this is where Papa came whenever he missed Mama.
She could tell without being told. The words he spoke were threaded through with a deep, unmistakable longing.
Pernoa must have loved Yerena very, very much.
Riersha let herself be led by the hand, and as she walked, she tried to picture the mother she had never once seen.
I wonder what she looked like.
She had been told that her hair color came from her mother’s side.
Did she resemble her in other ways too?
She was still turning the thought over when her gaze caught something ahead.
“…Oh?”
Not far away, Risideon, Ricador, and Riscal were gathered together.
“You arrived before me.”
Before him?
Riersha’s eyes went wide at Pernoa’s words.
Risideon, who had sensed someone approaching, turned toward them.
“Father…?”
He saw Pernoa — and Riersha beside him — and his voice stopped there. He stared, unable to finish his sentence.
“Hyung, what’s wrong all of a sudden— Riersha?”
“…Riersha?”
Ricador had been giving Risideon a puzzled look, but now he turned around too. A beat later, Riscal scrambled to his feet and spun toward her as well.
Riersha froze under the weight of her brothers’ eyes, one after another falling on her.
Maybe I shouldn’t have come. Maybe I’m making this harder for them.
The thought crept in before she could stop it.
If she appeared at their mother’s memorial, they couldn’t grieve the way they needed to. Not fully.
Then Ricador’s brow creased into a frown.
“I said it, didn’t I? That we should have brought Riersha too.”
“…Who would have guessed she’d still be awake at this hour.”
Riscal scratched his cheek with a sheepish look.
Riersha’s eyes went wide as she listened to them.
“…You’re not unhappy that I came?”
“What? Why would I be unhappy that you’re here.”
Ricador tilted his head as though he’d heard something completely absurd.
“But… because…”
Riersha started to say it and stopped. The words fell away, trailing into nothing — but the way everyone’s expression changed told her they already understood.
Because Mama died when I was born.
Risideon moved closer when he saw the shadow that had fallen over her face.
“No, Riersha. I was glad you came.”
“Really…?”
“Yes. Because you must have wanted to see her too.”
“…”
“Come here.”
Risideon held out his hand.
Riersha hesitated for only a moment before she took it.
“Sit here.”
Riscal shifted to make room and pointed to the place beside him.
“Mama, Riersha came today too.”
Ricador said it in a bright, almost eager voice.
Riersha stared at him, blinking in bewilderment.
She had braced herself for something heavy and solemn. She had expected nothing but grief.
And yet…
“Why do you still have that look on your face?”
“Pardon?”
“You’re still on the verge of tears.”
Pernoa carefully transferred the flower he had brought into Riersha’s hands.
“You should show her a smiling face. Only then will Yerena be glad too, Riersha.”
A gentle pressure at her back — and Riersha walked forward to stand before the gravestone.
A portrait of Yerena had been placed beside it.
Pink hair. Green eyes warm and bright as spring, caught mid-smile.
Riersha held that face in her gaze for a long, quiet moment.
⁂
“Let’s all come together next year, Riersha.”
“Mm.”
On the walk back, surrounded by her family.
Riersha nodded at Risideon’s words.
A family gathering on a death anniversary isn’t only sad.
She had been wrong. She understood that now.
“Actually — weren’t we one flower short tonight?”
Riscal had been scowling to himself for some time, turning something over in his head, when he finally murmured it.
“It was always five, wasn’t it?”
“That’s true. There were only four tonight.”
Risideon agreed, as if the memory had just surfaced.
It was always five?
Riersha tuned into her brothers’ conversation.
“There was always one already there when we arrived. I always figured the groundskeeper left it.”
Ricador chimed in, then shrugged as though it hardly mattered.
“Maybe he just forgot this time.”
“…Maybe.”
Riscal tilted his head, then said “Yeah, probably,” and seemed to let it go.
But for Riersha, the words refused to settle quietly. Something about them lingered, catching at the edge of her thoughts in a way she couldn’t quite explain.
