Chapter 103: Unspoken Affection in a Silent Garden

Eleonora’s words lingered in the warm air of the dessert shop, refusing to dissipate. Her remark about the ‘robe of renown’ had perfectly struck Lia’s muddled thoughts.

She watched the sugar cube, now fully dissolved in her tea, the ripples on the surface long since calmed, yet her own mind found no such tranquility.

The afternoon tea with Master Eleonora concluded in a strangely charged atmosphere. As they parted, the elegant lady extended an invitation to Lia for the following day.

“In the back garden of my estate, there are some intriguing flowers and plants not found elsewhere. If you wouldn’t mind, you’re welcome to visit tomorrow; the air there is fresher than any corner of our city.”

“It would be my pleasure, Master Eleonora,” Lia accepted.

She indeed needed a quiet place to organize her disturbed thoughts.

Eleonora’s garden sounded like an excellent choice.

Adèle, holding Lia’s arm, walked alongside her on the way back, cradling several exquisite pastries packaged from the dessert shop.

“Master Eleonora is truly such a gentle lady, isn’t she?” Adèle mused.

“And the way she looks at people is so peculiar; I always feel like she can see right through everything.”

Lia offered no reply.

She held the box containing the new dress, its sharp edges pressing into her arm, a constant reminder of the day’s events.

When the two returned to the Mage Tower, the great hall was unusually quiet.

Klein was already back. He sat on the sofa, a book spread open on his lap, though his gaze was not fixed on its pages. Instead, he stared silently at the flickering flames in the fireplace, lost in thought.

Hearing the sound of the door opening, he looked up. His eyes immediately bypassed the chattering Adèle, landing precisely on Lia and the rather conspicuous box she held.

In that instant, a tumult of thoughts flooded Lia’s mind.

The measurements the saleswoman had called out, the slightly unfamiliar silhouette of her body in the mirror, the scrutinizing glances in the square, Adèle’s teasing, and Eleonora’s pointed words—all these images and sounds intertwined chaotically.

Ultimately, they solidified under Klein’s calm, unwavering gaze.

A wave of heat rose from her neck, swiftly spreading across her cheeks. Clasping the box, she almost instinctively avoided Klein’s eyes.

“I… I’m a bit tired. I’ll head up first.”

She mumbled an excuse, then hurried past the round table in the center of the hall, her footsteps scrambling as she ascended the stairs leading to the third floor. The box in her arms swayed with her movement, emitting a soft rustle.

Klein stood, as if to say something, but Lia’s figure had already vanished around the bend of the staircase. His outstretched hand paused in mid-air before slowly lowering.

He gazed at the empty stairwell, a slight frown creasing his brow.

‘Had something happened? Or… did she dislike the dress? Was the color he chose too dark?’

He began to recall her sudden evasion and panic, the unnatural blush that had spread from her earlobes to her cheeks, and the way her eyes had darted away from his.

A strange sense of irritation quietly bloomed within him.

Adèle placed the packaged desserts on the table, spreading her hands in a gesture towards Klein.

“Don’t look at me, Master. She was perfectly fine before she saw you. Perhaps the dress you chose was so much to her liking that it made her shy and overwhelmed?”

Having said her piece, she hummed an off-key tune and retreated to her own room.

Only Klein remained in the spacious hall.

He glanced towards the stairs, then at the book on his lap, remaining motionless for a long while.

The firelight in the hearth danced, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across his profile.

***

The next morning, when Lia emerged from her room, the Mage Tower was silent. Klein had already departed.

Adèle informed her that ever since Klein’s thesis was published, the Royal Academy had added several new courses to his schedule, all focused on the practical application of electromagnetic induction theory.

Consequently, he was now leaving for the academy earlier and earlier.

After finishing her breakfast alone, Lia took a magic carriage to Eleonora’s estate, following the address she had been given.

Eleonora’s residence was even more serene and elegant than Lia had imagined. There were none of the opulent decorations she had expected, only ivy climbing the walls and meticulously manicured lawns.

Eleonora herself greeted her at the door, dressed in a practical, plain purple cotton long dress. Her appearance was simple, yet it detracted nothing from her grace. Her hair was tied back simply with a ribbon.

“Welcome, Miss Farrien,” Eleonora said, her smile instantly putting Lia at ease.

She led Lia directly through the corridors, heading towards the grand glass conservatory deep within the estate.

The conservatory was warm and humid, filled with the rich scent of earth and plants.

Various flowers Lia had never seen before grew quietly here, vibrant in color and diverse in form.

“These are just some small experiments of mine.”

Eleonora gently caressed a white flower whose edges glowed with a faint blue halo.

“It’s called ‘Night Star.’ It only glows on moonless nights. Isn’t it wonderfully stubborn?”

Lia gazed at the flower; it appeared ordinary in the daylight, yet its unique blue edges seemed to hint at a hidden secret.

“Over here, this one, I call it ‘Chameleon’.”

Eleonora then pointed to a vine plant.

“Its leaves slowly shift color between emerald green and golden yellow, depending on the intensity of the light.”

“It truly understands how to adapt to its environment.”

Lia followed behind Eleonora, listening as she described the origin and habits of each flower.

Eleonora spoke of neither magic, nor theories, nor renown; she was simply sharing the joy she found in the company of these plants.

Lia’s taut nerves unconsciously relaxed amidst the vibrant greenery.

“Every flower has its own language.”

Eleonora settled onto a white wrought-iron bench and poured Lia a cup of fragrant herbal tea.

“People are always quick to define them, yet so few are willing to listen to what they truly wish to express.”

Lia held the warm teacup, remaining silent.

“Look at the Silent Violets over there.”

Eleonora gestured towards a cluster of purple buds in the corner.

“They require extremely stringent conditions to bloom; many people give up, believing them inherently difficult. But I’ve found that they merely need sufficient time and quiet.

They will reveal their most exquisite form at the moment they deem most appropriate, without anyone’s urging or judgment.”

Lia followed her gaze. Those purple buds remained tightly closed, exuding a stubbornness that kept the world at bay.

‘No urging, no judgment.’

She thought of her own body, subtly changing, and of the deep blue dress nestled within its box.

‘Perhaps she, too, needed her own time for quiet waiting, rather than forcing herself to immediately adapt and accept.’

An entire afternoon slipped away unnoticed.

When Lia prepared to take her leave, she felt that her disordered emotions had become considerably clearer.

Eleonora, however, called out to her.

She walked over to a gracefully formed plant that bore two distinctly different, yet harmoniously growing, types of flowers.

Eleonora carefully clipped two sprigs from it: one of pure white, the other a delicate pink bud on the verge of blooming.

She presented these two sprigs to Lia.

“These are for you, a thank-you for the afternoon.”

Lia took the flowers, a hint of confusion in her expression.

“This white flower, its language is ‘pure gratitude’,” Eleonora’s fingertip gently brushed the petals of the white bloom, then tapped the pink bud. “And this sprig represents burgeoning, unspoken affection.”

‘Unspoken affection?’

Lia looked down at the two sprigs in her hand, the white pure, the pink delicate.

She didn’t quite grasp the deeper meaning in Eleonora’s words, merely attributing it to the elegant lady’s customary poetic expression.

“Thank you, Master Eleonora. I love them.”

She offered her thanks, then turned and departed with the flowers.

As she walked back, the lingering glow of the setting sun stretched her shadow long before her. Lia looked down at the flowers in her hand.

The pure white bloom reminded her of Eleonora’s gentle smile and the afternoon’s tranquility—a gift of gratitude she could readily understand.

Her gaze finally settled on the delicate pink bud, poised to open. A tiny hint of soft pink peeked from its tip, like a secret held firmly in check.

‘Unspoken affection.’

The phrase echoed repeatedly in her mind.

‘Whose affection could it be? Her own, or someone else’s?’

The question remained unanswered, like a tiny pebble dropped into the lake of her heart, which had only just begun to regain some semblance of calm.