Chapter 77: A Grave Visit, A Gentle Heart

Chapter 77: A Grave Visit, A Gentle HeartAriana’s body remained frozen—she hadn’t expected that at all. How did he know? How was he aware? The fact that they were actually going to visit her mother... Her heart thudded at the thought. A heavy silence fell—not intense, but overwhelming. Her eyes watered as Zavren’s gaze remained fixed on her. And just as he opened his mouth to speak, she wrapped her arms tightly around him. Ariana couldn’t explain the feeling. Yes, she had visited her mother a few times—mostly with her father and sister—but it had always been difficult. The cemetery was miles away from home, and walking there took nearly four to five hours. They usually had to save up just enough money to book a local carriage from the village center, which cost ten pennies—a hefty amount. So those visits were rare, but when they happened, they brought a joy that words couldn’t describe. And now... Zavren had said it. Just like that. He was taking her. Without her asking. And somehow, that made it mean even more. She couldn’t put the feeling into words—only that she would be forever grateful. The shock of it, the kindness, made her heart ache in the best way. She gently pulled away as Zavren held her hand, and together, they walked toward the main door, which opened calmly. Zavren’s gaze fixed on a particular guard. Not long after, the man bowed. A soft breeze swept across Ariana’s face, brushing her hair backward. The carriage arrived, the horses making soft sounds. Zavren turned, his gaze fixing on a guard who stood there, still. It was as if he was saying something to him through his eyes. Not long after, the man bowed and quickly left. Another man soon walked up, bowing before them as he opened the carriage. Zavren followed. As Ariana entered and sat, Zavren raised his hand. The man respectfully gave him a small book and a pen. He entered the carriage and sat beside her. The door closed softly as he handed her the book. She took it carefully. Her heart was full. She opened it and quietly wrote: Thank you. Zavren nodded calmly. He had noticed just like the other day—her smile widened at the thought of her mother. Ariana really missed her. He could see it—the pure love she must’ve had. And for people to think she was the one who killed her own mother with a curse... it was disheartening. If only Ariana knew that rumors about her were no longer as they once were. People had learned to keep their opinions to themselves—knowing the consequences if anything ever reached the King. She became curious. She calmly wrote: How do you know about Mother? She hesitated a little before sliding the book to him. Zavren read, then replied calmly, "Your father gave me some brief information." Ariana nodded. She had suspected that. The carriage moved swiftly again, silence settling between them like a soft blanket. All that could be heard now was the gentle sound of the wheels rolling over the ground. Zavren turned to her—she looked nervous. His hand rested gently on her lap. Her head turned toward him, and he noticed the way her fingers fidgeted at the hem of her dress. "Is something wrong?" Zavren asked. Ariana gave a small nod and picked up the book again. Flowers... aren’t they meant to be brought? I have none... I don’t know if she would be happy. Even in her writing, he could tell she was nervous—the way her hand shook slightly told him everything. "There are flowers at the back of the carriage," he said softly. Ariana’s eyes widened. Was he serious right now? She didn’t understand—how had he planned all of this? The fact that he must’ve done it while they were outside shocked her more than she could admit. This man was truly unpredictable. Always two steps ahead, even when she thought she had figured him out. Zavren remained silent, allowing the moment to embrace them both. Time passed. The carriage came to a gentle stop, and Ariana’s heart began to race. It hadn’t been far from the palace. The door opened, and she stepped out gracefully, followed by Zavren. As they emerged, the wind blew again, sweeping her hair backward. Ariana turned. The place looked just the same—old, quiet. The gates were slightly rusted. A man approached, holding two bunches of flowers. Zavren took them, then turned to Ariana, whose eyes widened. She stared at the white flowers—they were so simple, so pure. Their petals were soft and delicate. Zavren handed them to her, and Ariana took them with a smile. This was the prettiest flower she had ever taken to her mother. She noticed Zavren still held another bunch in his hand. "I would like to pay my respects to her as well," he said. Ariana nodded, her eyes growing watery once more. She blinked quickly,trying not to cry. This moment was so sweet. Another gust of wind blew, brushing her hair back. To her surprise, a white butterfly fluttered nearby. She had no idea where it came from. It danced around her before landing gently on the flowers she held. Her eyes stretched. The butterfly lifted again, flitting in the air before resting briefly on her shoulder. Ariana’s lips parted in wonder as she turned to Zavren, speechless. He gave her a nod, and just as she turned back to the butterfly—it was gone. She looked around but it was no where to be found. She took a breath, calming herself. Her body felt overwhelmed—but in a good way. She walked toward the gates and opened them slowly. Maybe the butterfly was a sign—a good one. As they stepped inside, she walked toward the far end of the cemetery. Grass had grown thick over time, showing that it had been long since it was last weeded. She walked deeper into the cemetery. At a particular block, a stone sat—the writing nearly faded, but her mother’s name remained. Ariella Brentford. Ariana’s steps slowed. She knelt and gently placed the flowers on the grave. Bowing her head, she turned slightly to Zavren, who stepped forward, bowed slightly, and placed the second bouquet beside hers. Then he stepped back, giving Ariana the space he knew she needed. He gave her a calm nod—she understood as he walked moving a short distance away. Ariana dropped to her knees, tears falling freely now. "Mother... I hope you can forgive me for coming late. My husband—the one who came earlier to drop flowers for you—he was the one who brought me here. Mother, I missed you so much..." Her hands moved over the stone as she cleared it gently to read the name more clearly. "Mother, we’re all doing well... and hopefully, I’ll visit Dad soon. I’d be so happy to see him—and to tell him I saw you again, after so long. You know, Mother... it was my husband’s idea," she whispered in her head, tears continuing to stream down her cheeks as she managed a weak smile. "Mother, I have so much to say. So many things to share... but I don’t want to bore you. I hope you’re doing well... and I hope you like the flowers too." Ariana slowly stood, her tears still falling. She sniffled softly, and for some reason, she felt her mother’s presence more now than ever. She wiped her cheeks, her face puffy and her eyes red, but she smiled and made a soft prayer. Zavren stood still, gazing up at the sky. He raised his hands as the clouds began to darken. His eyes lifted, watching them shift, before turning back to the area where his wife was—and soon, she walked towards him. His body stiffened slightly at the sight of her she looked so broken. She walked toward him and hugged him. Zavren calmly patted her hair, brushing it back gently. After a while, she pulled away. Zavren stepped closer, pulling out a clean towel and gently wiping her face. Ariana tried to steady her breathing, her gaze shifting away—she didn’t want to look at him just yet. "She heard you... and she would be very proud." The certainty in his voice made Ariana’s eyes rest on his. She quietly nodded as he held her hands in his. Together, they walked back toward the carriage. The door opened. Ariana entered first, followed by Zavren. As soon as they were inside, the door closed, and the carriage began to move again. Zavren took her hands and gently began to clean them, wiping off the dirt. Ariana’s gaze stayed on him—she still couldn’t believe just how gentle he could be. "Go on," he said, his voice calm and full of pride. "What use is my handsomeness, if not for my wife’s delight?" Ariana’s lips curled up—she’d been caught staring. Slowly, she turned her gaze to the window. The clouds above began to darken, thunder rumbling across the sky. Rain followed, its soft pitter-patter tapping gently against the carriage. And though she didn’t quite understand why, Ariana found the sound oddly soothing. Not long after. Zavren’s expression shifted into slight displeasure as he moved, pulling her into his embrace. She felt an arm wrap around her. Just as she turned to him, his voice came—calm but firm. "Something is wrong." As if on cue, the carriage came to an abrupt stop.