9. Lavender
"Dalton, calm down."
I spoke as if soothing a child. It wasn't the softest voice in the world, but it was the most considerate voice I could manage.
However, even that must have been counterproductive. Dalton answered in a fierce voice.
"Who are you to tell me what to do? Just because we kissed once, do you think we became something special?"
To Dalton's nonsensical words, I calmly expressed my opinion.
"That is entirely your misunderstanding."
At my answer, which was sharp as a knife, Dalton made a puzzled expression for a moment, then scrunched his face abruptly.
"Forget it, I don't need any of this. I'm leaving."
With the words not to stop him, Dalton turned around and walked away.
Regrettably, neither Arwin nor I had any intention of stopping him. Not even a little. Because we weren't close enough to stop him, ask about his circumstances, and comfort him further.
"...Why is he acting like that?"
I asked Arwin because I was genuinely curious. My water-soaked hair felt only heavy.
"Mages are sensitive beings."
Arwin said, sweeping back his wet hair with his hand. I secretly glanced at him.
His face, with his wet hair neatly swept back, was magnificent as expected. Undeniably sensual. It was unavoidable that I gulped inadvertently.
"By the way, you."
"Yes?"
Arwin frowned slightly.
I wondered if he had perhaps noticed the fact that I thought he was sensual, but the words Arwin brought up were completely different from my expectation.
"You said you were strangers."
"Pardon?"
"You kissed that guy?"
"...."
I couldn't say anything, like a mute who had eaten honey. It felt like a shame I didn't want to be discovered by the person I liked had been exposed.
Strangely, I felt a faint expectation too. Wondering if Arwin was feeling jealousy that wasn't quite jealousy.
But perhaps that was only my expectation; Arwin turned around indifferently. Having turned, he added one last remark.
"I won't scold you, so go enjoy yourself a little more."
I looked at the entrance of the ballroom. Inside was flashing constantly as if lightning strikes were even falling now.
Arwin.... Did he forget the sight of the ballroom messed up by the storm?
Sometimes I thought it was fortunate that I didn't have rhinitis. Because there are times when life becomes much more satisfying just by the fact that I can smell properly.
A fragrant scent of unknown origin flew in and was quietly seeping into the tip of my nose. It was the only softness within the wind that had become colder than yesterday.
Fragrant. Was there a flower with such a fragrant scent in Arwin's garden?
While lifting my head to find the source of the smell, I accidentally dropped the broom. Was it because I was too focused on lifting my head? Why do I drop the broom so often?
Clatter.
As soon as the sound of the broom dropping was heard, I reflexively rubbed the corners of my eyes.
'You cried when you dropped the broom.'
Because Arwin's words came to mind. But as expected, there was no correlation between the broom and tears; there was absolutely no sign of tears.
Stopping rubbing my eyes and looking up at the sky, the source of the smell was visible.
Purple snow was falling from the sky.
"Lavender."
It was a smell I hadn't smelled in a very long time, but I remembered the scent of lavender.
Lavender, scattering in the light wind, embroidered the ground in purple. The sentiment that had strongly exuded the energy of autumn had turned into late spring before I knew it.
I snatched the lavender petals flowing down my face like water and looked around. To find the person likely to do such a thing.
In the desolate garden, the presence of a person could be found quickly. He was standing leaning his back against a certain tree, as if he had no intention of hiding his identity.
"Dalton, you surprised me."
He smiled brightly and started walking close to me. Dalton, having come right in front of me before I knew it, spoke while fingering the lavender placed on my shoulder.
"Hi."
Dalton's face was much softer than yesterday. The emotion that had angered him last night seemed to have been all diluted overnight.
I still didn't know what had made him so angry. And I didn't particularly want to know. I just thought there must be a reason for it.
I didn't want to ask the reason and remind him of the angry emotion of that day. Then a storm might strike again, and I was wearing clothes that weren't waterproof today too.
I didn't want to experience getting soaked to the bone again.
"Iphoe. You're not crying today?"
Dalton seemed to think there was some correlation between flowers and my tears. Just as Arwin thinks there is a correlation between the broom and my tears.
"Well. Tears aren't coming."
"That's a pity. I was looking forward to it."
I swept the corners of my eyes like a habit.
"Dalton, but what's with the lavender?"
"...An apology. Since I made the ballroom a mess."
"You made my dress, which I bought with a month's salary, a mess too."
"Sorry."
I recalled my dress that had been thoroughly soaked. The dress, washed with care and dried well, was fortunately not damaged.
"Yesterday, why were you angry?"
Although I wasn't hugely curious, I ended up asking him the reason. In the flow of conversation, asking why felt like a natural progression.
"Want to hear?"
"Sure."
Dalton waved his hand in the air once as if annoyed. Then, the lavender falling like snow stopped.
It was a little regrettable, but I didn't show it to Dalton. Fortunately, the fragrant scent it left behind still lingered on the tip of my nose.
I inhaled deeply and exhaled, trying to remember that scent without omission. It could be the last time I smell the scent of lavender.
Dalton parted his lips and began to confess his circumstances.
"Well, I found a woman I liked yesterday. That woman recognized me at once and called me like you did."
"Libertine, Dalton Racers?"
When I said that, Dalton opened his eyes half-closed and glared at me. But that doesn't mean he made a complaining sound. He just continued his words.
"Correct. And then she treated me like a complete moron."
"How?"
"She treated me as a love cripple who hasn't experienced love properly even once. Treated me as a guy who can't do proper love and only enjoys light love."
I barely suppressed myself from inadvertently answering, 'Isn't that true?'
When I recalled, Dalton had a person he loved enough to shed tears just by thinking of her.
"So I got angry. I also know how to love completely.... It's just that the person I loved died early."
He scrunched his brow fiercely and rubbed his dry face a few times. Is he suffering?
"I understand your anger. Because I also know how angry it makes you when my love is looked down upon by someone."
"Is that about your love?"
"Yes. I love him more than anyone, but people said my love wouldn't come true. That it was a vain love. They pointed fingers at me."
I recalled Katie, whom I could call the only friend among the maids.
When I confessed the fact that I liked Arwin to Katie, she had made a strange expression. I think she even said something like, 'Why do you do such a wasteful love?'
I knew it was a presumptuous love due to the difference in status, but that didn't mean I could take back the fact that I had come to love him.
Love is something that, once it starts to seep in, you can't go back to before. Rather, it only seeps in deeper and deeper. It was like force majeure.
"So were your feelings hurt?"
"Yes."
"You must have been sad about love that doesn't come true, but I am sad even though love came true."
Dalton made a much more pained face. A face as if he had eaten bitter medicine. I recalled the image of Dalton shedding tears while thinking of his lover who had died.
"Dalton. You're not crying today?"
"Well. Tears aren't coming."
"That's a pity. I was looking forward to it."
I examined the corners of his eyes closely. Really, there was absolutely no sign of tears.
"The flow of conversation feeling familiar, surely that's my misunderstanding, right?"
"Yes."
Dalton murmured alone that it was strange and tilted his head. His face, which had been scrunched, was unfurrowed back to normal.
He sat carelessly on the grass where purple was prevalent and looked up at me. I was curious what I looked like reflected in his odd eyes.
"Iphoe, you seem to resemble her who died a little."
"Where?"
"Making a face that says life is futile."
"Do I do that?"
"You don't know what expression you are making."
"I don't have enough room in my heart to care about such things."
Perhaps due to the conversation with Dalton, I became a little curious about the woman he loved. That was the first proper curiosity about Dalton since debauchery.
Was that woman pretty? How old was she?
Why did she die.
I imagined Dalton waving his hand pleasantly in the air, gifting a rain of flowers to the lover he loved. It was a beautiful scene.
"Sorry for keeping thinking of another person. There are many things to be sorry about today especially."
I sat on the grass to match the height of his gaze and answered.
"It doesn't matter. We aren't in a special relationship enough to be upset about such things."
"That is indeed sad."
He was murmuring that it was sad with a face that didn't look sad at all. How can he be so bad at lying?
"Iphoe, will I be able to love again?"
I answered without hesitation.
"Yes."
"What. Why are you so sure?"
"You are a mage who calls back forgotten seasons. Yet, could you not call back forgotten love? I think you can sufficiently do so."
"...Thank you for saying that."
Sincerity was felt in Dalton's words saying thank you. It was a sincerity clearly different from the words saying he was sad mentioned earlier.
I shrugged my shoulders once as if it were nothing. I said it because I wanted to comfort him, but those words were also my true feelings.
Dalton was someone with a knack for making women's hearts flutter. I thought it would be truly strange for such a him not to fall in love again.
Dalton, wearing a faint smile on his face, whispered small to me.
"I wish you would live."
"I wish so too."
He still didn't wonder why I was dying. Although he confessed his own circumstances to me in detail, he wasn't curious about me at all.
Our relationship was consistent. Running in place.
Of course, I didn't wish for the relationship with Dalton to progress.
I thought I wanted Dalton, who would remember me even after I die, to be happy. It would be better if he falls in love with someone.
Only then, the image of me he recalls would be happy too. I thought only if he himself is happy, the memories related to me would be beautifully glorified.
If I remain in someone's memory, I hope it is a happy image. That was all.
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