Flowers of Worship-Chapter 1

Chapter 1

My father passed away.

I hurried back after hearing about him being in a critical condition, but the night before I even arrived at the castle, my father died. I later saw him when I entered the army, he was already wrapped in an amapo.

[T/N: Amapo is a type of linen, more specifically called cambric, which means fine thin white linen fabric]

“Hick, what are you even doing—!”

When I began to rip the amapo, people were in great disarray and tried to stop me, but I shook them off and checked my father’s face till the end. It is necessary to make sure. Since my father is capable of faking his death and disappearing, I had to see whether my father was truly dead with my own eyes.

So when I saw him face to face, I noticed a knife that was tearing the amapo. He doesn’t look anything like the father I know. The bluish and dark circles on his face indicate that he was poisoned.

“Was he poisoned?”

Lucien, the Imperial Doctor, managed to come back to his senses when I asked. His thoughts wander about the reason why he is damaging the body. While leaning against the wall, he shook his head and could barely stand up.

“We examined, but couldn’t find any sign of it.”

“Then it must be a curse, isn’t that right?”

Lucien turned his eyes to Rostov, the priest of the castle, who coughed in vain.

“There is a possibility.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The castle’s chandeliers light up only half of Rostov’s face. I stared at him. No one would have told me about the poison and the curse if I didn’t happen to see the torn amapo, and checked his face myself. The sudden wrapping of the body of the deceased last night with amapo made it seem intentional. Why is everyone here trying to hide that my father’s death is not due to natural circumstances?

“It’s just a possibility. I’m not sure about that predicament.”

“You wouldn’t say something this important if it’s just a possibility, right?”

Even after hearing it, my voice remained cold and aggressive. Rostov lowered his eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

Rostov bowed his head and turned his attention to Lucien. When I looked, Lucien glanced at Rostov and shook his head. That action stabbed right me right in the heart. I glanced at the castle’s prominent figures, along with my father’s body that is right in front of me. The doctor, the priest, and others, along with the butler or the officials, hurriedly bowed down when my eyes were on them. Everyone probably noticed that my father’s death is questionable.

I turned my eyes back to my father.

My father, Irridugi Sarian, was cold-blooded and had an eccentric personality. He always did what he wanted, and didn’t bat an eye for such things as common sense. The way he raised me and the way he lived was the same. At times, I was a little annoyed and dissatisfied with my father’s presence, regardless I am still proud of him.

Did he come to understand the reason for his death?

This death is neither a curse nor a natural circumstance.

“We’ll have the funeral by midnight. Rostov, let me know if you need any help finding out who the hell cursed him.”

With my order, Rostov replied, “Yes, Your Highness.” and bowed his head.

I started to look around at the people who are present. Most of them are expressionless, some were staring down to hide their unexplained feelings. Everyone seemed reluctant to look at me.

“Gianton, prepare the funeral.”

The butler bowed deeply after my instruction. Although I have been in the castle since I was born, he still looks at me as if I am some kind of plague.

“Just look at this atmosphere. Some people might think the Lord killed him.”

Chris, the top knight, was leaning against the wall beside the stairs. Coming up from the basement was Sophia, my assistant, who has the same rank of knighthood as me, growled at him with a low fierce voice.

“Shut up, Chris. Don’t bother the Lord with your nonsense.”

“But you saw the atmosphere earlier, Sophie. Nobody made eye contact with her. Wow, her father died, but they are looking at the poor child like that.”

Chris raised his voice, as he didn’t like how wallowed the atmosphere was a while ago. When I saw Sophia pulling out the dagger right to his face, I laughed a little. She put the dagger back in and asked curtly, “What’s funny?”

“It’s just laughable how you all are still the same. You are all being too wary.”

Sophia followed closely behind me when I began to climb the stairs, passing Chris.

“Why are you looking around? Do you think the Lord will overthrow all of the officials from the castle?”

He giggled.

Sophia is a commoner. However, she was able to receive the knighthood due to her skills and is now a decent Lord. Though she sometimes says such immature things, I don’t hate her for it. Because her naivety often comes off refreshing. Just like this kind of situation.

“Lord?”

Sophia called me as if she was uncertain about it. There was a hint of anxiety and pure curiosity in me when the need for an answer was put in urgency. It is something I couldn’t answer in an instant, but I still replied.

“If it is proven that my father is cursed, I will instill my revenge. A baby flower can get angry too, and that baby flower can be a person themselves. That’s the first thing I will be worrying about.”

“So you are scared to open the amapo, but is willing to seek revenge? Oh, that’s the sign of loyalty.”

Chris followed Sophia at ease and was grinning.

“What about the second?”

Sophia asked, pretending she didn’t hear Chris.

“I’m a woman.”

Sophia was speechless for a moment. But unlike Sophia, who disintegrates her own business, Chris asked incomprehensibly.

“Is being a woman a problem? You’re an only child, and there are no illegitimate children. So isn’t there any issue of inheritance?”

“My relatives wouldn’t think so.”

I didn’t want to discuss inheritance with my subordinates any more, so I moved quickly. The hall was quite far, and there is a trace of someone tailing behind. Chris and Sophia didn’t try to start a conversation with me anymore, as if they noticed how I felt. I do have quite a few relatives.

It was apparent how significant my father’s death, who only had one daughter, would make them feel, with the title, property, honor, and power. They think it’s a chance to roll in all at once. Everyone must be busy calculating the benefits in their heads.

I’m 26 years old.

As my father’s only successor, there were no inheritance issues. My child is around seven years old. However, I was not able to get married for the sake of inheritance, as I am the only legitimate child. My relatives vehemently opposed my marriage. They argued that even if I married and had a son, they would not allow a boy, who had half the blood of a lowly born man, to have the right to inherit the throne.

“If you take someone with dirty blood into the Sarian family, you will not be able to see your ancestors!”

“He has my blood, too.”

Only

“I’m afraid women’s blood is inferior to men’s. God created it that way, so we can’t help it.”

I try my best not to clash with them. Though, my father used to sarcastically ask, ‘Why don’t you check your blood in terms of superiority?’

That sent my uncle into a fit of rage and made his face turn red, while my father disguised his remarks innocently with a smile and a curious look. In the end, my uncle couldn’t say anything back, since being father’s only child means that my blood is not inferior to anyone else.

He couldn’t even say a word to my father, yet still barking at me. I’m glad it’s all just barking, instead of biting a piece of my flesh. Later, in the early winter, my father returned from the battlefield. I questioned him about his second marriage while drinking with him in his study. At that time, my father looked at me in silence. I still remember the expression he made as vivid as it was yesterday.

“At last… you sound like you’re not my child.”

“You’re my child, Silli. You’re my only child.”

I had to defend my point as much as I could.

“You have to remarry, father. Everyone’s bothered because you don’t have a son.”

I had no interest in my father’s title and fortune. Living as my father’s heiress, I was already involved in tiring matters. I had a lot of skills and achievements on my sleeve. But if my father got remarried and my stepmother gave birth to a boy, that would sew up the mouths of my relatives. Knowing them, they would indefinitely say, “The person who will inherit is now qualified.” Nevertheless, my father’s answer always remains the same. I’m the only one in the world who is able to inherit.