PITA 13

Chapter 13

The Flower That Announces Spring

“Ah, hello?”

A cadet cracked open Leopold’s door. René, who had been standing inside, turned around and instinctively smiled. The cadet’s cheeks flushed bright red, and he slammed the door shut before fleeing down the hall.

That made four of them now.

Leopold, who had brought her to his room, had just finished his fencing class and rushed off to the showers. Guessing what he was thinking, René sat quietly on the edge of the bed before restlessly standing and pacing around. She hadn’t expected things to turn out like this.

When René received the letter saying that Leopold was at death’s door, she had packed her bags without a second thought. Her mind went completely blank. If an unconscious Leopold was calling her name, then there was only one thing to do—go to him immediately.

She rented a room in the hotel closest to the military academy, planning to nurse him until he recovered, and went straight to the academy to explain everything. The response she received, however, left her utterly speechless.

“Um… There’s no cadet currently hospitalized in the infirmary. If you’d like, I can call for Cadet Reinarke and have him meet you in the visitor room.”

That infuriating man had lied to her because she hadn’t replied to his letters. René pressed her lips tightly together, determined to give him a good, stinging slap as soon as she saw him.

But the anxious energy wouldn’t leave her body, so she began to look around the small room. It was messy, yet strangely well-organized—a reflection of Leopold himself.

The shirts were neatly pressed, with creases exactly as she had once taught him during their summer together. The washbasin was spotless, as per her constant nagging, and the window sill gleamed without a speck of dust.

Her gaze fell upon the modest bed, the gray curtains, and the small desk. Curious, René picked up one of the books lying on top. She wondered what the cadets studied here—but between the neatly written notes, she found little doodles of their names scrawled side by side in Leopold’s handwriting.

“Honestly, Reinarke, you’re such a handful,” she muttered with a fond sigh.

As she recited a well-known proverb under her breath, René opened the desk drawer—and screamed.

“Eek! What is this doing in here?!”

Her own letters—every one she had ever sent him—were neatly tucked away inside. Panicked, she hurriedly hid them inside the thickest book on the shelf, as if burying incriminating evidence.

After his shower, Leopold buttoned his shirt with trembling hands. His heart was pounding so loudly it almost hurt. If someone had told him this morning that René would visit him today and step into his dorm room, he would’ve accused them of talking nonsense.

‘It’s not like I’m keeping it on for long anyway… Can’t I just go without a shirt?’

But that would definitely draw too much attention. With a resigned sigh, he put on his undershirt, trousers, and indoor jacket, then dashed out of the changing room.

As he raced down the corridor, he found a crowd of cadets gathered like clouds in front of his room. Realizing he had arrived, they parted to let him through, giving him playful pats on the back, shoulders, and even his hips as encouragement.

Flushed to the ears, Leopold opened his door, flashed a grin just before closing it behind him, and locked it from the inside. A sharp smack! echoed out, followed by a loud cheer from the cadets in the hallway.

The next morning, before dawn, René tiptoed like a cat through the quiet halls. Wrapped in her coat and hat, she followed Leopold as he escorted her outside. Together, they climbed over the same wall she had used to sneak in, and then, hand in hand, ran toward the train station.

René burst into laughter as they ran. Leopold, feeling lighthearted, suddenly stopped mid-step and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he held her tightly, afraid his chest might burst.

“I love you.”

Amid the heavy morning fog, they stood for a long while, clinging to each other in the middle of the street.

Afterward, they walked hand in hand through the waking city, crossed the street, and headed to the ticket booth.

“Two tickets?” the clerk asked.

Leopold wanted to nod, but instead he smiled faintly and shook his head.

“Just one, please.”

With the ticket in hand, he led René to a small café. Though the morning rush had already begun, they managed to find a table. They ordered coffee and a few small pastries.

As Leopold busied himself adding sugar and milk to her coffee, René felt suddenly shy and turned her gaze away. He, too, avoided her eyes, cheeks faintly flushed. Beneath the tablecloth, their knees brushed together, a quiet and tender connection.

“Your order’s here,” the waiter said, setting everything down.

Leopold cleared his throat softly and, with an almost teasing calmness, lifted a piece of bread to her lips.

“Go on, eat.”

Blushing, René opened her mouth and took the bite he offered.

After breakfast, they waited for her train. When a flower shop nearby opened, Leopold ran over and bought a bouquet of daffodils.

René’s brown eyes curved like crescent moons as she smiled, inhaling the fresh scent. Then she plucked one flower from the bunch and slipped it into the buttonhole of his coat.

Hand in hand, they walked to the platform and embraced quietly in the corner until the train arrived.

As she stepped aboard, Leopold passed her bag up to her, his face full of longing. René leaned down to kiss him, but when she pulled away, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

“If you ever lie to me again, I swear I’ll come back to kill you.”

Leopold couldn’t help laughing, shaking his head.

“If you’d just written me back properly, I wouldn’t have had to resort to that.”

“So now it’s my fault?”

“Maybe a little?”

René grabbed his collar, pulling him close to whisper in his ear.

“I don’t date men who make excuses. Say it again.”

“I will never lie to you again, Miss Martin.”

Leopold smiled softly at her expression, the corners of her lips curling tenderly.

“You have to promise too,” he said. “No lies between us.”

René gazed at him with bright eyes. Leopold took her gloved hand and pressed his lips gently against it.

“And no more slapping me just because you’re embarrassed—like last night—”

“Be quiet!” she hissed, her face red as a rose.

Leopold only grinned wider.

“You can’t do that anymore. We’re real lovers now.”

René threw her arms around him, holding him tight. He kissed her cheek, exhaling a shaky breath. He had to let her go—the woman who was now truly his.

The train whistle blew. The station master’s shout and the hiss of steam filled the air as passengers boarded. Leopold waved and blew her a kiss until the train disappeared into the distance.

When he finally took a deep breath, a faint floral scent lingered in the air—the fragrance of the early spring flowers she’d left behind. He stood there alone on the platform for a long time.

Walking back alone along the path they had taken together, Leopold found himself standing in the middle of the bustling street, feeling utterly lost.

If he had known how hollow and cold it would feel to let her go, he would’ve boarded that train with her. When the clerk asked if he wanted one or two tickets, he should’ve gone mad and said, two.

“But if I had,” he murmured, “you’d probably have shoved me off the train halfway.”

The image made him laugh. Lifting his head, he noticed a shop window filled with bright yellow daffodils—the same flowers he had given her, the same one she’d pinned to his coat.

Drawn as if by instinct, he stepped closer and stopped in front of the glass. Among the sparkling jewelry inside, one ring in particular caught his eye. It reminded him of the one that had once fit her finger perfectly.

Staring at the small, glimmering piece, Leopold pushed open the jeweler’s door and walked inside.

“Hey, Cadet Reinarke?”

Leopold froze mid-step as someone called his name. He had returned through the main gate without thinking—completely lost in thoughts of René. He should’ve climbed the wall again.

Turning around, he faced the soldier standing guard at the gate.

That was how Leopold ended up running forty laps around the training field in full gear. But as he ran, then walked, then ran again, he couldn’t stop grinning. Every few minutes, he burst into quiet laughter that he couldn’t suppress.

“Is he crazy or something?” a cadet whispered.

Not even close.

Leopold wasn’t mad. He was thinking about the small box he had hidden deep inside his desk drawer—and that thought made him laugh all over again as he ran into the bright, cold morning.