Chapter 6
The Marchioness’s body was to be cremated according to funeral protocols and enshrined in the Elianth family columbarium.
Cremation took place after the guests had left, with only the immediate family of the deceased remaining. People were only allowed to view the body until the moment of cremation.
The coffin containing the Marchioness’s body was brought out before the gathered guests. Traditionally, the coffin was carried by the family or close acquaintances of the deceased. Wrapped in black velvet, it was carried by the Marquess, the Marchioness’s father, and the knights of the house to be placed before the attendees.
Following procedure, the coffin’s lid would be opened to show the face of the deceased. Those present would say their final goodbyes and offer blessings for her afterlife.
Here, the afterlife was not like the Buddhist concept of reincarnation. People believed the dead would continue to exist just as they were, only in a different world.
The more beautiful the final appearance of the deceased, the more they were believed to be happy in the next life. For that reason, the body was usually adorned glamorously for the final farewell.
The body would be carefully washed, and the bluish skin would be made to look lively again through makeup. She would be dressed in the most splendid clothes she owned and decorated with jewels to resemble her appearance when alive as much as possible. There were even professionals whose sole task was to prepare the dead for viewing.
The guests at the Marchioness’s funeral were waiting for the Marquess to open the coffin lid. Typically, the one to reveal the deceased’s face was the husband, father, or son.
Once the coffin was opened and the body shown, those closest to the deceased would begin their final farewells. They would place a single yellow flower near the body and speak to it as if to a living person. Only after everyone present had said their goodbyes would the public part of the funeral be considered complete.
Because this process was done one by one, beginning with those closest to the deceased, farewells could take several days.
How many among this crowd truly mourn her death?
I looked around at the people gathered. I recognized a few faces, but most were strangers. Even the Marchioness likely wouldn’t have known half the people here. There were so many guests that I idly wondered if any of them genuinely grieved for her. It didn’t seem like even a few days would be enough for them all to say goodbye.
While frowning at the thought of how long this might take, a ripple passed through the crowd. Before I could even question it, I knew the cause.
“……”
The Marquess did not open the coffin. Instead, he placed a single yellow flower atop the lid and stepped back. He said nothing and simply moved away from the coffin.
There were no parting words. No blessings for the afterlife. He returned to his place and stood tall, as if he had fulfilled his duty.
“Hah…”
Though I already knew this would happen, I couldn’t help but sigh.
It was the same as last time. Back then, I had screamed and cried—not out of grief for losing a mother, for I had never once felt maternal love from her. I couldn’t grieve what I had never had. If anything, I had felt a faint sense of relief.
At the time, I didn’t know the true reason for her death. The Marquess had imposed a strict gag order. Only he and a few others knew the real cause. Not knowing, I became enraged that he would dishonor her by breaking tradition. I assumed he hated her so much he couldn’t even offer a farewell. I had foolishly believed that since he hated her, he must hate me as well.
“It must be true, then…”
“So the Marquess really did…”
Murmurs grew louder. People couldn’t understand the Marquess’s behavior. Speculations spread like wildfire. Some were oddly convincing, and a few even close to the truth.
They spoke as though their guesses were facts. From mouth to mouth, stories about the Marquess and Marchioness turned into full-blown soap operas.
There were at least a hundred guests at the funeral. No matter how quietly they spoke, I could still hear them. If I could, then surely so could the Marquess. Yet he stood motionless, pretending not to hear. His silence only fueled the rumors further.
“So Lady Elianth is really…”
“Shh, be quiet! She might hear you.”
Some who had taken their assumptions as fact now looked at me with pity. The Marquess’s cold indifference toward me throughout the funeral seemed to confirm their suspicions. To them, I was a poor child abandoned by her father.
Back then, not knowing the truth, I couldn’t stand the Marquess’s coldness, the murmurs, and the pitying glances. I had stormed out of the funeral in fury. I had no thought for the deceased’s journey to the next world.
The Marquess hadn’t stopped me. Even now, if I were to storm out again, he wouldn’t stop me—just like then.
I looked at the Marquess, standing silently under the sunlight. Just like before, he ignored the whispers around him. Though some of those whispers were outright criticism of him, he showed no reaction, as if he couldn’t hear them.
At funerals, it was almost unheard of not to show the body. There were only two exceptions: when the body was too mangled to be seen, or when death came from a contagious disease. In such cases, guests had to be informed in advance with a proper explanation.
But the Marquess had said nothing. Perhaps he couldn’t. To explain why the body couldn’t be shown, he would have had to give the exact reason.
Of course he couldn’t have shown it.
The Marchioness had taken her own life.
While her maids were briefly distracted, she jumped out the window of her third-floor room. This was the Elianth estate—no small building. Even a fall from the third floor was deadly. She died instantly, unable to be saved.
Her head had been crushed, her limbs twisted. She’d had no luck—not even in death. Her body was too damaged to be shown. Her suicide was not only a disgrace to the family, but a permanent stain on her reputation.
In the Empire, suicide was a serious taboo. People believed those who took their own lives would suffer misfortune in the next. No one said goodbye to a suicide. No blessings were given. In extreme cases, families of the deceased were treated as criminals.
That’s why I hadn’t known the truth. The Marquess’s gag order was absolute. No servant had ever spoken a word to me. It wasn’t until long after, when my nanny told me, that I learned what had happened.
Officially, the Marchioness had died of illness. She had secluded herself in the estate for years, avoiding all social activities. Her reclusion led to countless rumors—some said she was sick, some said she was dead. Others whispered she had gone mad. But with so many rumors about her, none gained particular traction.
The Marquess used one of those rumors to his advantage. He announced her death as the result of a long illness, and people believed it without question. She had been reclusive long enough that no one doubted it.
The problem was…
…the funeral. If the body was shown, her suicide couldn’t be hidden. So the Marquess simply didn’t open the coffin. No explanations. No justifications.
Rather than face the scandal of her suicide being exposed, he chose to be gossiped about instead. Even if someone knew the truth, no one would dare say it aloud. Without definitive proof, the official cause of death—illness—would never be disputed. By not showing the body, the Marquess left no room for doubt.
To expose the truth of the Marchioness’s death would mean making an enemy of House Elianth. Unless one was ready to go to war with the Marquess, the truth would remain buried forever.
“Gasp!”
“Oh my!”
I slowly approached the coffin. The crowd’s chatter ceased, all eyes turning toward me. Some watched with curiosity, others with pity. I could even feel a few hateful stares.
For the first time today, the Marquess looked at me. I smiled faintly in return. His face remained expressionless. Sometimes, he didn’t seem human at all—more like a machine.
I placed the yellow rose I was holding on top of the velvet-covered coffin. Against the black fabric, the yellow rose stood out brightly.
“……”
Like the Marquess, I offered no farewell, no blessing for the afterlife. I gave a silent bow instead. My left hand placed over my heart, my right holding my skirt—an abbreviated form of courtesy. Instead of bending my knees, I bowed at the waist, showing respect in my own way.
Having done my part, I walked to stand beside the Marquess. His expression hadn’t changed, but standing close, I could see the slight tremble in his eyes. His gaze briefly met mine before returning forward. I did the same—standing tall, facing ahead.
The hall was utterly silent. People glanced between the Marquess and me, unsure what to do. Then, through the tense stillness, one person stepped forward holding a yellow flower.
I get a feeling that FLs account would be unreliable of her past time line