Don't Remember Me - Chapter 70

Chapter 70

Seeing the situation and wondering if it might be a serious issue, Pedwin’s expression grew serious as well. The butler, listening in on their conversation, also stiffened. He had only been asked to relay a message to the guards, but he didn’t know the reason his master had summoned them.

“Flitta.”

“…Yes?”

Fedwin’s expression, which had been full of intensity, suddenly looked strange. The butler, still handling the teacups, fumbled and almost dropped one.

“I apologize, Your Highness.”

The butler hastily gathered the teacups, and Haven waved a hand to signal that it was fine, before offering further clarification.

“I was referring to a wildflower, not a child.”

“A wildflower…?” 

Pedwin’s eyes darted around, clearly confused. After all, a man who knew only the sword would have no way of knowing the names of wildflowers. 

Haven chuckled softly and provided a little more explanation.

“I’ve heard there’s a wildflower called Flitta. Please bring one to me.”

“… Pardon?”

“You could even plant it in a corner of the garden.”

Haven nodded with a serene expression, oblivious to the confused stares from the butler and the guards.

***

Chirp, chirp.

The sound of birds chirping woke Rosé from her sleep. When she raised her head, Flita was right there beside her. Of course, she had fallen asleep by the bed. Rosé got up and approached her.

Inhale, exhale.

Flitta was sound asleep, her face calm and peaceful. Rosé carefully placed her hand on the child’s forehead to check for fever, relieved to find that it had nearly subsided.

“… Ah, thank goodness.”

Rosé mumbled, unsure to whom her gratitude was directed, and slumped back down into her chair.

It had been a few days since Flita’s condition had suddenly worsened. Since then, the child has made a remarkable recovery. The attending physician, who had feared the worst, had been astonished, calling it a miracle.

“Thank you, little one. You’ve been so brave.”

Though it might still be premature to say, Rosé firmly believed that Flitta would fully recover. She gently stroked the child’s hair and stood up to prepare breakfast before Flitta woke.

Now that her health was improving, Rosé could make more than just soup for her; she could prepare a dish suited to the child’s taste. Of course, it had to be something nutritious to support her recovery.

‘What should I make? Since it’s breakfast, it shouldn’t be too heavy, something light and mild…’

As she opened the bedroom door and was about to step out, Rosé froze upon noticing something in front of the door. Her green eyes flickered in surprise.

“… What is this?”

Rosé whispered to herself before quickly biting her tongue. Fortunately, Flitta didn’t seem to have heard her, still deep in sleep. Rosé quietly slipped out of the room and shut the door behind her.

She crouched down in front of the small pot placed just outside the bedroom. A tiny flower had bloomed, bright and red, as if greeting her.

“… This is Flitta.”

Rosé’s voice caught in her throat. She covered her mouth with her hand, then managed to whisper again.

Flitta.

The flower, in fact, was named after the very child she was nurturing. Rosé had hoped to name her child after this flower, wishing for them to grow strong and healthy. There were many flowers that bloomed brightly, showing off their beauty, but as a mother, the most important thing was for her child to grow strong and healthy.

But before she had the chance to give the child a name, she had to let them go. For some reason, Haven had given the child the name Flitta…

“Could it be… he overheard?”

Rosé’s fingers trembled as she gently touched the red petals of the flower, a sudden realization striking her. She remembered that a few days ago, she had explained the meaning of the name to Flita.

On that day, when the child’s condition had worsened so suddenly, she had barely managed to get through to her.

She had told Flitta that her name symbolized strength, just like the flower—able to bloom bravely in the coldest winter.

“And he brought this…?”

Rosé’s thoughts trailed off as she remembered the next day, when she’d found a metal container full of firewood outside the bedroom door. She blinked, then looked again at the flowerpot.

The spot where the firewood had been left was the same place where this little pot had been placed.

“… It was you, Haven.”

Her eyes grew warm with unshed tears. She had thought Haven had simply instructed someone to bring firewood. She never imagined he would have personally delivered it.

“Ugh, Rosé…”

She hadn’t realized she had been staring at the flower for so long. Flitta had woken up, and now the child was making her way toward Rosé, opening the bedroom door and coming closer, rubbing her eyes.

“Ah, Your Highness! You’re awake? Oh no, breakfast isn’t ready yet… No, more importantly, it’s chilly outside, you should put on your shawl…”

Rosé scrambled to her feet in a panic. But Flitta didn’t pay much attention to her words, yawned and rubbed her eyes before tilting her head in confusion.

“… Huh? What’s this?”

“Eh? Ah…”

Rosé smiled as the child pointed at the flowerpot, her eyes full of curiosity. She bent down and answered softly.

“It was a gift from the Duke, left here for you.”

“Dad?”

“Yes, it’s a gift from His Highness, prepared just for you.”

“… Wow.”

Flita’s small mouth opened in surprise before quickly closing again, but the joy on her face was unmistakable. Rosé could see it clearly in the way her cheeks flushed.

“I want to see! Me!”

“First, let’s go back inside. The morning air is too cold for you.”

“But…”

Normally, Flitta would always listen to Rosé without fuss, but today the child seemed more eager than usual. Rosé chuckled and continued in a playful tone.

“If you go inside, I’ll tell you the secret of this flowerpot…”

“Secret?”

Flitta’s eyes widened with excitement. Rosé nodded, and the child immediately turned and rushed back inside, clearly eager to know more. 

Rosé picked up the small pot and followed her into the room.

The pot was so small and light that Rosé could easily carry it with one arm.

‘Perhaps he considered my arm…’

She had a fleeting thought, but quickly turned away, her face flushed.

At that moment, Flitta looked back over her shoulder.

“Rosé, what are you doing? Come on, tell me the secret!”

“Yes.”

Rosé hoped Flitta wouldn’t notice her burning cheeks as she made her way to the table. The child was quick to help her place the pot on the table before grabbing the hem of Rosé’s skirt and asking again.

“What’s the secret?”

“… Do you remember what I told you a few days ago?” Rosé asked, gently.

“What about?”

“About your name.”

“Yes! I remember! You said my name is the same as a flower’s! And that it blooms even in the cold winter. So, I’ll grow strong and healthy, just like the flower. That’s the name Dad gave me.”

Flitta nodded proudly, as if showing off. She remembered exactly what Rosé had said. Rosé smiled softly and pointed to the flower in the pot.

“This flower is the very ‘Flitta’ I was talking about.”

“… Huh?”

Flitta perked up, her eyes widening. Rosé nodded, smiling again.

“This is the same flower you asked about. The one with the same name as you.”

Flitta blinked in disbelief, then turned her attention back to the flower.

“Hello! It’s me, Flitta!”

The tiny, red flower stood tall in the sunlight that streamed through the window, as though greeting them with pride.

“… Flitta?”

“Yes, Your Highness. It’s a very strong and resilient flower, able to grow even in the coldest weather. It may look small and fragile, but it’s tough.”

Flitta’s greenish eyes sparkled as she took in Rosé’s words.

“Strong… and resilient…”

The child murmured, then pressed her lips together. She looked back at Rosé with a determined expression.

“I’ll be like that, too. I’ll grow strong and brave, just like this flower. Because I’m Flitta; I am Flitta.”

“… Of course, Your Highness. I’m sure you’ll be able to do it.”

Rosé nodded along with the child’s resolve. Flitta squeezed her tiny fists tightly, and Rosé couldn’t help but smile.

***

The doctor carefully examined Flita.

He checked not only her arms and legs but also her hands and feet. The red rashes that had once covered her skin were completely gone.

The fever that had been tormenting her had also subsided, and her cough was almost entirely gone.

Finally, the doctor gently pressed on Flitta’s abdomen and asked with a serious tone.

“How does this feel, Your Highness?”

“It doesn’t hurt at all.”

“If it hurts even a little, you must tell me.”

“It doesn’t hurt at all.”

… Growl.

Flita’s stomach rumbled. It wasn’t from pain—it was from hunger. Rosé, standing by the edge of the bed, muttered softly, looking a bit embarrassed.

“It’s snack time…”

“Hahaha.”

The doctor laughed and removed his hand from Flitta’s abdomen, then turned to Haven with a joyful expression.

“Congratulations, Your Grace. The young lady has completely recovered.”

“Really?”

Haven, trying to suppress his joy, asked once more for confirmation. The doctor nodded firmly.

“Yes, Your Grace. The symptoms of Dunfer’s disease have completely vanished. I must say, it truly feels like a miracle. I never imagined it could be treated so well.”

“Your efforts have been valuable. I am deeply grateful.”