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The Reaper Finds a Golden Flower – Part 02

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Translator: Kell

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Once Marquis de Blois left, the academy regained its former bright, refreshing, winter morning. The sun now shone through the French windows of the dark guest room, and birds chirped in the distance.

“…Phew.” Ms. Cecile let out a deep sigh. The tension had drained from her, and a smile returned to her baby face. “Gosh. Since he was famous and all, I was wondering what kind of person he was. I didn’t expect him to be sooo terrifying!”

She gathered the documents and left the room.

Students were walking down the morning hallways. Children of nobility greeted Cecile politely but cheerfully as they passed by. Cecile replied with a smile, but looked down at her feet from time to time uneasily.

What kind of a girl is she that her own father calls her a wolf?

Cecile would learn the answer to that question soon.

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The academy’s expansive campus was beautifully landscaped in the manner of a French-style garden. Trimmed lawns, delicately adorned fountain, spacious flowerbeds. Squirrels that climbed the benches and gazebos during spring were nowhere to be found; they were currently hibernating in a distant forest.

Deep inside the gardens stood a small building that was built only months ago.

It was a colorful, yet somehow peculiar building, like a candy house from a fairy tale. The first and second floors were connected by an iron spiral staircase. Everything in this tiny building was a little too small for human habitation, as though scaled down through precise calculations.

Cecile stood in the small doorway and gently grabbed the doorknob, a fragrant color reminiscent of freshly baked muffins. It was cold, holding the chill of winter. With a soft cry, Cecile turned the cold doorknob and stepped inside.

The candy house—a special dormitory for the girl that was quickly built at the request of the de Blois family—was filled with a stifling darkness that made the school building’s guest room seem bright. It was as if a heavy black cloth blanketed the entire place, slowly suffocating anyone within. Cecile swallowed, and slowly stepped into the darkness.

The house was full of pretty furnishings, all of which seemed to have been slightly reduced in size. A tiny drawer with shiny enameled ornaments. Green, cabriole-legged table covered with a lovely embroidered tablecloth, overflowing with small silverware. A rocking chair by the window. But the youngest daughter of Marquis de Blois, the resident of this small, special dormitory—Victorique de Blois—was nowhere to be seen.

The darkness stirred.

Noticing the intruder, the darkness turned and stared at Cecile. It closed in to swallow her. Paralyzed from fear, Cecile narrowed her brown eyes and noticed something deeper inside.

It didn’t fit this lovely room. A jarring dissonance.

A large pile of books.

Thick leather-bound books were stacked all over the place. A suffocating space of knowledge. All of the books were extremely difficult—religious texts written in Latin, mathematics, chemistry, history—that even Cecile, a teacher, would shrink back.

Marquis de Blois’s ominous voice rang in Cecile’s ears.

“The first one is books!”

The daughter of the Marquis must be in the depths of this darkness. Cecile gulped, and took a bold step forward, into the shadows.

There was a crunch under her foot.

Cecile slowly lifted her foot, then crouched down and studied what she had stepped on. She frowned.

A delicious-looking macaroon, sprinkled with a hefty amount of cinnamon powder.

Cecile shot an inquiring look at the darkness.

Macaroons, chocolate bonbons, and animal-shaped candy bars were scattered all over the floor, surrounding something in the shadows. As Cecile stood up, Marquis de Blois’ voice replayed in her mind.

“The second one is sweet snacks!”

“And third…”

“Ruffles!” Cecile blurted as she stepped into the dark.

Beyond the darkness was even more darkness. Cecile sensed the presence of a negative force, the same as that of the Marquis—no, even stronger than what that small fry emitted. Fear seized her throat. Before her lay real, thick darkness, as though an entrance to the underworld had opened there.

Cecile’s trembling legs stopped.

Whatever was in the shadows was staring up at her.

She closed her eyes. Strained her ears. She could hear the faint rustling of clothes. It noticed Cecile and started moving, slowly. Something had briefly popped into her field of vision earlier. A terrifying creature, as Marquis Blois had said.

It was pure-white, wrapped in layers and layers of luxurious ruffles.

Cecile slowly opened her eyes.

It was right in front of her. Her breath caught.

Cecile forgot everything in an instant. The bizarre darkness, that it was the youngest daughter of Marquis de Blois that was before her, that she was a Gray Wolf, a legendary creature talked about in this kingdom since the Middle Ages.

Sitting in front of her, looking up at her with long-slitted, pale green eyes was a magnificent porcelain doll.

Her silky golden hair cascaded down to the floor like an untied velvet turban, creating a glittering waterfall. Small rosy cheeks. Emerald eyes that sparkled like precious jewels. A luxurious dress of jet-black French lace and three layers of white ruffles. On her small head sat a miniature hat with a coral ornament that looked like a crown.

The doll, or rather the little girl who looked like a doll, was sprawled on the floor like a discarded toy, her face completely devoid of emotion. Her little feet in laced shoes moved briefly, then stopped again.

The girl—Victorique de Blois—was watching Cecile with her wide green eyes.

Cecile tried to open her mouth, but her throat was too dry to speak.

Moments passed.

Eventually, the girl opened her small cherry lips with an abrupt, unnatural movement, like a puppet controlled by a master.

“Who might you be?”

Cecile gasped. Her voice was astonishingly different from what her lovely appearance might suggest. It was low, husky, and mournful, like an old woman’s.

But her peculiar voice seemed oddly congruent with the mysterious light in the girl’s green eyes—eyes that were quiet and melancholic, like an old-timer who had lived a hundred years. A feeling of awe gripped Cecile. Victorique shifted a little, and like a critter instinctively sensing a prey nearby, Cecile’s heart shrank. Fear washed over her once more.

“Are you a foe?” asked the husky voice.

Layers of white ruffles rustled in irritation at Cecile’s inability to answer out of fear.

Cecile shook her head frantically. She couldn’t speak.

When she finally regained her voice, she mumbled, “A-A doll?”

Victorique’s eyes glinted dangerously, turning greener with rage. “How rude!”

“Uhm…”

“My name is Victorique de Blois. A living human being.”

“Uh, yes. Um—”

Victorique lifted a thick book in her small hands and threw it at her. Cecile yelped as she crouched down. The book hit the wall and fell to the floor with a loud thud.

It was quiet.

Victorique’s small body quivered, and she roared like a beast. A roar that drowned out Cecile’s shrill scream. Seconds later, Cecile was able to make out what the girl was saying.

“I’m bored!”

“Wh-Why?”

“I’ve read all the books here. It’s not enough. More. Bring me more. More books. I’m bored. I’m bored!”

Turning her back on the horrifying girl, Cecile bolted away. Her legs got tangled up as she leapt from the darkness and fled the dollhouse.

When she fearfully turned around, the roar had ceased, and there was only a lonesome, cute little candy house standing there.

The clear winter sky cast warm sunlight over Cecile as she sank down on the ground from shock.

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“My back… My back hurts!”

A month later.

Europe’s long winter was finally coming to an end, and people were starting to wear lighter clothes. It was the time of year when the atmosphere was festive, and students and teachers alike were in high spirits as they welcomed the spring holidays.

Cecile staggered into the faculty room at the back of the U-shaped school building, knuckling the small of her back.

An old teacher who’d been around since Cecile was a student chuckled. “You’re looking a little wobbly. Is something wrong? You’re lacking the power of youth!”

Cecile staggered to her seat and plopped down at her desk.

“What’s wrong?” the old teacher asked worriedly.

“It’s nothing. It’s just…”

“What is it?”

“The books are so heavy.”

“Oh, that.” The old teacher suddenly became apprehensive. “Well, uh… I think a young, female teacher is better suited for the job.”

Cecile glared at him resentfully. “They’re really, really heavy.”

“Well, hang in there!”

Cecile grunted.

For the past month, Cecile had gone to St. Marguerite’s Grand Library every morning and evening and carried books to the dollhouse. The student in question, the mysterious Gray Wolf Victorique, never once attempted to attend class, ordering instead to keep bringing her books. Books, sweets, and luxurious dresses. Victorique’s sustenance was clearly different from that of the ordinary folk.

Cecile was getting used to the pitch-black darkness and the horrifying, husky voice. But not the girl. She hardly ever responded when spoken to. Cecile realized that she wasn’t purposely ignoring her; she simply did not care about others. She was like a small, wild wolf that would never get used to humans as owners.

Cecile made sure to at least bring her the things she wanted so she would survive.

And just like that, several months passed.

The warm spring season had arrived. Colorful flowers were in full bloom all over the campus, lush and verdant foliage blanketing the trees. The gardens looked very different from during the wintry season.

Cecile had grown accustomed to taking care of the strange little girl, and to the fact that she never spoke to her at all and continued ignoring her. She just silently carried three things to the candy house between breaks. But like the thorn of a small rose stuck in one’s palm, she couldn’t get her mind off the lonely, terrifying cub.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Cecile never stopped thinking about her.

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