A Bouquet Of Water Lilies For A Grave Visit

Florence, having seen Sheena off as she left the orphanage, left the Shikai Tribe boy they had taken in with an elderly couple and played with the orphanage children for about two hours, was once again making her way toward the cathedral.

In her hand she held a bouquet of water lilies bought at a florist along the way.

Florence made regular visits to the grave of her mother, the late Saint Frances Cuticle, and today she planned to bring flowers for her visit.

‘I must report to Mother that Lady Sheena has agreed to take over the orphanage’s operation.’

Her mother had been recognized as a saint by the Holy Church, and her body was buried in the saints’ tombs located within the cathedral grounds.

She arrived at the solemn saints’ tombs where the saints of successive eras rested.

“Ah—Lord Kaine.”

“……”

There, Florence encountered a colleague of the Knights of the Stigmata emerging from the saints’ tombs.

A tall man wrapped in bandages from head to toe, his skin completely concealed by a leather coat and hat.

The Fourth Stigmata—it was Kaine Kaiwell.

“L-Lord Kaine, are you here visiting a grave as well?”

Kaine was taciturn, always wrapped in blood-stained bandages and exuding a predatory, sharp intimidation that made Florence shrink before him.

But she couldn’t simply ignore a colleague, so she spoke to him.

“……”

There was a height difference of about sixty centimeters between Kaine and Florence.

He looked down at Florence and took notice of the water lilies she held in her hand.

“Whose grave are you visiting?”

Kaine opened his mouth to speak.

That said, his mouth was also covered in bandages, so she hadn’t actually seen it open…

“My mother… um, it’s the late Saint Frances Cuticle’s.”

“Why did you choose that flower?”

Kaine asked again.

“Well… embarrassingly, I’m not well-informed and didn’t know which flowers Saint Frances preferred… so I brought the flowers I like.”

“Hm—so blood will tell, then.”

“Eh? Wh-what do you mean by that…?”

“……”

Kaine ignored Florence’s question, slipped past her, and vanished from the saints’ tombs.

Florence quietly watched him go.

“Wh-what on earth does that mean?”

Florence still couldn’t grasp what kind of person Kaine was, but at least it didn’t seem he disliked her.

“Oh… there already are flowers.”

Pulling herself together, Florence walked through the saints’ tombs and stopped in front of Frances’s grave.

She noticed that flowers had already been placed at the foot of the grave.

They were just three water lilies, drained of moisture, withered and faded.

The saints’ tombs could be freely entered by those with clerical status.

Therefore, clerics who admired past deeds would come each day to pay respects at one saint’s tomb or another.

So it wasn’t strange that someone had left flowers at Frances’s grave.

However—the saints’ tombs were strictly managed, and caretakers would collect flowers and offerings before they spoiled.

Yet the flowers placed at Frances’s grave were dried out as if several days had passed.

“Well, I suppose such things happen.”

Florence, without much concern, arranged the water lilies she had brought in the vase.

As a matter of course, she also placed the three withered water lilies—coincidentally the same kind—into the vase as well.

“Mother… I am doing well… so please, continue to watch over me from Heaven.”

A gentle breeze brushed the cheek of the girl as she offered her prayer.

Along with the fragrance of water lilies carried on the wind—there passed a faint scent of rusted iron.