Chapter 61
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Chapter 61
Charlotte and Armand had believed that Prince Frederick's visit would accelerate the investigation into Leopold. Yet instead, he was ending it. As the carriage carried them home from a ceremony whose conclusion she barely comprehended, Charlotte gazed out the window with vacant eyes, lost in thought.
'Exactly one week. He's given us one week to complete the investigation.'
Prince Frederick had spoken to Armand and Charlotte while preparing for the ceremony.
'The stabilization of Holland's political situation and my attendance at the conference can be delayed no further.'
His voice had softened somewhat from his earlier tone.
'November, the month of honoring spirits, will make it somewhat easier to bid my brother farewell.'
As Prince Frederick had said, November was a month for all spirits. Thus, everyone—including Aunt Elicia—believed that the power of spirits grew stronger on October 31st, the eve of All Saints' Day, before November 1st arrived.
As the carriage arrived at the Augusta Estate, Charlotte reflected.
'Prince Frederick's face was filled with sorrow as he spoke those words. Though he spent painful years in the shadow of His Majesty Leopold, he seemed to genuinely long for his brother.'
Charlotte descended from the carriage and, rather than following her complaining sisters into the house, stood motionless in the courtyard, lost in contemplation.
'Though Prince Frederick seemed to believe that His Majesty Leopold had relinquished the throne out of pity for him... perhaps that is precisely why he feels such inferiority toward His Majesty Leopold.'
In the garden of the Augusta Estate where Charlotte stood, autumn flowers bloomed in shades of purple and crimson. These were flowers that thrived better under diffused light filtered through clouds than under the bright, intense rays of summer sun.
Charlotte slowly reached out and touched the delicate petals of flowers clustered in one corner of the garden. A gentle fragrance tickled her nose, and as the flowers swayed in the cool breeze, she felt a vitality that was both gentle and intense.
"No flower blooms beautifully by basking in sunlight alone, does it?"
Charlotte murmured to the flowers as if speaking to a person.
"On cloudy days, growth sometimes pauses, and through the rain, they bloom into their truest form."
A handful of autumn flowers swayed in beautiful curves as if agreeing with Charlotte's words. The autumn flowers seemed to understand the gratitude owed to cloudy days and rain better than anyone else.
Charlotte understood Frederick's pain, having grown up in his brother's shadow, and so she believed his decision to end Leopold's investigation stemmed not merely from jealousy. Yet conversely, she also comprehended Leopold's exhaustion—a man who had lived the very opposite of Frederick's life—and thus she could not simply abandon the investigation.
"Understanding what one has never possessed is difficult, but when I think about it, it's quite natural. Bright sunlight at midday can cause pain to some, and darkness that frightens others can become a warm sanctuary for certain lovers. Once I realized this...."
Charlotte murmured, her expression dreamy and distant. In that moment, she thought her own voice carried on the wind sounded like Aunt Elicia's ethereal tone.
***
Charlotte rode Charles toward Elicia's House. Even without George's repeated requests, Aunt Elicia spent most of her days at the Augusta Estate, situated near the deep forest of Brentwood. Yet as the eve of Saint's Day approached, she inexplicably extended her time at her own residence.
"Aunt Elicia, Aunt Elicia!"
Charlotte spotted Aunt Elicia tending the garden and leaped nimbly from Charles's back.
"Charlotte, you've come. I caught such a strong scent of anemone blossoms on the wind."
Anemones bloomed in summer. Even after learning that Aunt Elicia possessed the abilities of a medium, Charlotte often found her words made little sense.
"Actually, I came because I needed to ask you something urgently."
Charlotte patted Charles's head in gratitude, then hurried to Aunt Elicia's side, speaking rapidly enough that her breathing had grown slightly labored.
"When you told me I possessed mediumship abilities last time, I was so shocked that I couldn't ask you in detail about what you said next. You answered my question about how I could find the physical body of the soul I love, remember?"
Charlotte grasped Aunt Elicia's wrinkled hands in both of hers as she asked. Aunt Elicia nodded with a faint smile.
"Of course. I told you to listen to death itself—what came of it?"
"Aunt Elicia, I understood that to mean I should gather clues through the spirit I see—the Prince. But as time grows ever more pressing, the information I've obtained from the Prince alone makes it difficult to locate his whereabouts."
As Charlotte spoke with a troubled expression, Aunt Elicia let out a small exclamation in response.
"Ah, Charlotte. The death surrounding you that I spoke of—I wasn't referring to the spirit who accompanies you."
Aunt Elicia gently grasped both of Charlotte's hands.
"The person who knows best that your spirit—your Prince—lives somewhere is you yourself, isn't it?"
Charlotte nodded vigorously.
"That's right, Aunt Elicia. I feel it—no, I know it. He's alive. Whether this is the medium ability you spoke of or simply my overwhelming desire, it feels like truth to me."
"Yes, Charlotte. So the death I mentioned must be someone else's. I had a feeling there were spirits somewhere, waiting for you to hear them, to call to them. Has no spirit ever tried to communicate something to you until now?"
"Tried to communicate something to me..."
Suddenly, the phantom sounds and strange scents from the ball at the Oslo Estate flashed through Charlotte's mind.
"It might have been a fever, but when I met Harrison at the last ball, I sensed an odd smell and heard phantom sounds. Could those be the voices of spirits that mediums perceive?"
Elicia nodded, her expression tinged with sorrow. She seemed to be mourning the existence of a spirit so grief-stricken that it had left traces of death behind.
"Charlotte, spirits who have just met death can leave traces around those connected to their passing. You cannot always see them, but as a medium, you must have read some of those traces left by the spirits."
"But I thought Harrison couldn't possibly be the fifth porter..."
Then could Harrison be the one who killed the porters? Charlotte fell into thought. Now that I think about it, it made more sense that a third party attacked them rather than Tiffany Martin—possibly the fifth porter—having killed her own father and brothers.
'Then perhaps Tiffany Martin didn't flee out of fear of being blamed as the culprit, but to escape the murderer who killed her family!'
Charlotte lifted her head as if she had discovered something, her eyes meeting Elicia's.
"Aunt Elicia, could I possibly meet the spirit who left those traces of death directly?"
Elicia studied Charlotte quietly for a moment, then slowly opened her mouth.
"There are many ways for mediums to encounter spirits, Charlotte. Some say they meet them more easily when near the memories of death the spirits have left behind, while others find it easier to communicate with spirits when they are in places where a medium's power grows stronger."
Elicia's gaze shifted past Charlotte, toward something beyond her.
"In my case, I feel the spirits more intimately in the forest where countless lives breathe and live, especially when the clean morning sunlight emerges. So you too must have your own way and place."
As Elicia winked and spoke, Charlotte let out a soft gasp. The moment her words ended, an image of moonlit stream water in the forest bloomed in my mind—the secret place that Elicia called Spirit's Spring, the sanctuary I shared with Leopold.
Charlotte instinctively knew that place was where I could meet not only Leopold but other spirits as well. The image of the stream that had surfaced in my mind showed no sign of fading, as if it had been waiting all this time for me to remember it.
"Then was it all to meet spirits—your staying at our house and your daily morning walks into the forest?"
Charlotte asked, her cheeks flushing with growing excitement. But contrary to her expectations, Elicia shook her head.
"That's not quite it, Charlotte. Not many souls linger at death's threshold, desperately yearning to reveal themselves to a medium. So while I sense a greater concentration of spiritual energy in that place, I've never encountered a soul capable of conversing with me the way you and the Prince do."
Aunt Elicia's gentle voice continued.
"This world holds many sorrowful spirits, but fortunately, each November—the month of remembrance—all those nameless, grieving souls find peace. They each receive their own solace and gain the opportunity to cross beyond the threshold into the next world."
Charlotte found herself wearing another puzzled expression at Aunt Elicia's claim that she couldn't see spirits.
"But... Aunt Elicia, you've often spoken of Uncle's ghost. My sisters and I—well, except for Helena—were so convinced you could see Uncle's apparition that we never even suspected you were a medium."
Charlotte recalled Aunt Elicia spending the evening of October thirty-first, All Hallows' Eve, alone at home. Jane and Katie had remarked that Aunt Elicia would be the only person in Brentwood not attending the masquerade ball that night, and they'd offered various theories about her absence.
Of course, the conclusion that all her sisters—excluding Helena—had agreed upon was that Aunt Elicia met with her husband's ghost that day.
Aunt Elicia smiled gently, as though she understood what Charlotte was about to say.
"Yes, Charlotte. Once a year, there is a special day when all spirits regain a vitality far stronger than that of the living."
Aunt Elicia's blue eyes gleamed with cautious reverence as she prepared to share some profound secret, their depths shimmering with an intense, vital force.
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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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