Meanwhile, Duke Seymour, who had left all of the reception of guests to his grown-up sons, was standing idly on the outdoor terrace near the bride's waiting room.
'That's strange.'
He recalled a dream last night, casting his gaze toward the beautiful garden where the wedding was to take place shortly after.
'Why the hell did I... have a dream like that?'
Recently, Duke Seymour frequently dreamed of his wife appearing.
"You've never come out before."
In his dream, he complained to his wife.
"These days, I feel like you're hovering around me. Even though I don't believe in superstitions at all. It's strange, isn't it?"
"I've always been by your side, but you didn't feel it."
"....."
"The reverberation left by the pure white soul is like a flower petal, and it is said that it is hovering around like a butterfly by the side even though it is invisible."
"... a poem read by Deborah."
Duke Seymour smiled, and his wife smiled at him like a flower.
"Thank you to that child. For telling you what I couldn't say..."
Yeah, probably from then on. He started watching Deborah again, whom he had pushed out of his mind. After the death of his wife, it was also about getting out of the time that was just numb as if it had stopped.
It was when Duke Seymour was lost in thought. Marienne, who was leading the maze-like winding flower garden, holding his hand, stood tall.
"What's wrong?"
"This time both children came to the right place."
"Two children?"
"Yes. My child... got lost in the dark and returned after a very long time."
She said something incomprehensible and looked up into the air with eyes full of affection. Two glowing spheres floated where her wet eyes met.
"Now, you listen."
"Huh? Yeah?"
"You have to get it out of the maze."
"What is this?"
"You'll find out soon. Be careful."
Duke Seymour awoke from his dream as soon as he moved the sphere-shaped light to the sunny place, just as a mother cat carrying her kittens.
'What the... What kind of crazy dream is this?'
But it was too vivid to be a dog's dream. The warm temperature emitted by the two mysterious spheres, the unique way of speaking and mannerisms of his wife, and even the scent that always emanated from her.
'No way...'
Duke Seymour suddenly opened his mouth.
"Enrique."
"Yes!"
Enrique replied in a spirited voice. This is because today, the child has been entrusted with the daunting task of scattering flowers behind the bride and groom as they march in the wedding procession.
