Novel Full Chapter 459: Boy - One - I
On a street nearly devoid of pedestrians, an elderly man and a boy stood silently amidst a torrential downpour.
“Young lord,” the umbrella-holding elder inquired, “shall we return now?”
“Just a moment longer, Saville.”
The boy, adorned in an elegant black suit, gazed across the street at the opulent manor, murmuring softly, “Just a moment longer.”
Saville was utterly devoted to Ansel’s commands, yet he was unaware of why Ansel insisted on lingering after the ball had ended, uncertain of what awaited.
Moments later, a slight twitch caught the corner of his eye.
With the sharpness of a hawk, the elder’s gaze, illuminated by the lightning, spotted a shadow with a knife in the window of a side building.
“Baron Whitman ought to be dead.”
So declared Ansel, “Go check, Saville.”
“Yes, young lord.”
Saville handed the umbrella to Ansel, and in the next instant, his figure shifted dramatically.
He took the umbrella from Ansel, his expression peculiar, “He is indeed dead, and—”
“And it was his own wife who killed him… Let’s go.”
The young Hydral lowered his gaze and turned to leave.
The old butler followed closely behind his young master, puzzled by the fact that they had come merely for a simple dance and had never had any dealings with Baron Whitman before, yet Ansel had instantly recognized the bizarre murder. However, Saville never spoke more than necessary.
“Ah, Ans!”
At the entrance to the Hydral estate, standing in the rain, Annelisa spotted the returning Ansel from afar and joyfully waved at the boy, “Come and dance with mom!”
The Lady Hydral at present was dancing in the rain with the blooming flora at the manor’s entrance, exuding joy and freedom.
Despite her ability to let the rain slide off her without a trace, she chose not to. Her golden hair, as radiant as the sun, was drenched, and her thick, conservative gown less voluminous. Her youthful, fair face was dotted with raindrops, yet her eyes shined brightly, piercing through the gloomy weather like stars breaking through storm clouds.
As the woman danced, the rustling of the flowers and trees blended into the relentless downpour, playing a cheerful melody that overpowers the somber mood of the weather. With each step into the shallow puddles, flowers bloomed beneath her, lifting her figure. Thus, Lady Hydral danced with light and splendid steps, humming a tune as she approached Ansel.
“Clang!”
Annelisa, lifting her sodden, heavy skirt, performed a curtsy, her face adorned with a radiant, unrestrained smile, devoid of the demureness expected of a lady.
The woman blinked, “How was my dance?”
Ansel touched his face, “You splashed rain on me, mother.”
“Such fuss!”
With a huff, Annelisa pulled Ansel out from under the umbrella held by Saville, shaking off her hand, “Saville, you may go back now.”
“…Yes, madam.”
The elder nodded slightly, his figure vanishing from the spot.
Dragged into the rain, Ansel looked up at his mother, expressionless, “I wish to go back and rest, mother.”
“Not allowed!”
Annelisa firmly refused, arms crossed, her demeanor lacking any aristocratic air, instead exuding a common touch, “Your irresponsible father has been away for so long, so you must take over the duties he usually faces from my pranks, Ansel.”
“…I don’t see the logic in that.”
“A woman need not reason with a man, a mother need not reason with her son.”
Our Lady Hydral lifted her head in triumph, “Thus, I can be doubly unreasonable.”
The helpless young Ansel could only sigh, “So, how will you prank me?”
“By dancing, of course.”
“With you?”
“Wishful thinking.” Annelisa flicked her wet golden hair, splashing Ansel’s face with rain again, proudly proclaiming her taste and dance skills, “I won’t dance with anyone but Mel, and certainly not you, Ans. You’re still so small, dancing with you would be like playing with a kitten… actually, that sounds rather fun.” fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓
The woman cradled her cheek in her hand, eyeing Ansel with a look that suggested she was contemplating amusing herself with a pet cat.
However, she eventually dismissed the idea, uncertain whether it was due to her agreement with Flamelle or the realization that treating her son as a playful kitten might be somewhat improper.
With a gesture, a cluster of flowers by the roadside, swaying in the rain, uprooted themselves from the earth. They approached him, trembling like the “matchstick men” Ansel had seen in another world, and curtsied deeply with their lush petal skirts in a genteel salute to him.
Ansel glanced at the “floral person” before him and then at his mother, brushing back a few strands of hair plastered to his forehead by the rain, and asked, “Are you retaliating because I didn’t take you to the dance earlier?”
“No—not—at—all,” Annelisa elongated her tone in response.
To indulge his mother’s playful spirit, Ansel could only reach out to catch the branch-like arms of the flower girl, and together they danced in the torrential rain.
Annelisa hummed a tune, her hands swaying lightly as if conducting an orchestra, and thus the relentless downpour softened under her will, blending with the rustling of the plants and the whisper of the wind, evolving into a prolonged concerto.
As she played the music that flowed spontaneously from her heart, Annelisa gazed at her son dancing with his eyes closed, admiring his charming and composed demeanor even amidst the storm, and mused aloud something like “which young lady will have the privilege of his company…” before asking with a chuckle, “Who is Ansel’s dance partner today?”
“The daughter of the Duke of Azurehaven, who traveled all the way from the eastern harbor.”
“Oh… And who might that be?”
“An inconsequential girl.”
“What does she look like?”
“She pales in comparison to you, Mother.”
“I didn’t ask you to compare her to me! Who could possibly surpass me~hm!”
Annelisa lifted her damp skirt casually and sat at the edge of the flower field by the manor entrance, her hands cupping her cheeks, surrounded by blooms. She saw right through her son’s flattery:
“Even such compliments won’t make the dance end any sooner.”
“I was merely telling the truth.”
“Cough… Yes! Indeed, it is the truth.”
Annelisa’s spirits lifted, and it was as though the sun had broken through the clouds, spotlighting only Ansel and his dance partner. The light that enveloped him moved with his steps, making Ansel the center of the universe.
“Besides her appearance, do you perceive any other merits in her?”
“Quietude, thoughtfulness, grace, erudition… and a genuine fondness for me,” Ansel responded calmly to his mother’s vexing inquiry.
“The last point need not be reiterated! I am aware that every girl adores you.”
Annelisa’s heels clicked crisply against the floor as she swayed, her disdain for Ansel’s words clear: “Mediocre! Such girls are far too common, utterly unremarkable!”
“There are but thirteen grand dukes in the empire, Mother.”
The woman snorted, “And there is only one Ans.”
“Your ‘gentleness’ towards women always seems tinged with hostility.”
“What are you implying, that I am not gentle enough?”
Annelisa was infuriated, and Ansel’s floral dance partner gently tripped him by the ankles, but he spun around and executed a spectacular dance move that drew applause.
“It means, Mother, that you are unconventional, and it is precisely for this reason that you captured Father’s heart.”
“…That’s more like it.”
Annelisa muttered, then resumed orchestrating the tempest to vary Ansel’s performance.
Her music was devoid of any set pattern, a pure flow of emotion, sometimes rhythmically perfect, sometimes inexplicably odd, yet Ansel always managed to adjust his steps perfectly to the unpredictable changes.
The boy dancing in the storm was flawless in every aspect, beyond reproach.
Yet, watching her perfect son, Annelisa’s smile gradually faded as she improvised her music.
She suddenly asked:
“Ans, did you enjoy the ball?”
“…”
The young Hydral hesitated for a moment, marring the otherwise perfect dance steps, but he quickly adjusted and calmly replied, “I was content.”
Annelisa asked softly, “What delicacies were there at the ball?”
“… The steamed blue lobster was quite decent.”
“Besides your little dance partner, are there any other charming young ladies?”
“Mr. Oma’s eldest daughter, the companion of the president of the Keta Commerce Association…”
“Were there any amusing activities, intriguing characters, or marvelous events?”
“…”
In the torrential rain, the boy who had maintained perfection remained silent, perhaps because there was none, or perhaps because… he could not answer the question.
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