The Genius Perfumer of the Fallen Order — Chapter 17
Baron Corvas had no interest in decorating the vases in his house, so the vase simply held various flowers the maid had brought from the estate’s gardener, stuck in without much care.
Prim poured the water from the vase out the window and carefully examined the flowers that had been placed inside, selecting and sorting them.
She scraped a little of the bark from a decorative silver poplar branch with her fingernail and picked two sprigs of lavender that still retained a fresh vitality.
Next, she looked at the pale purple roses. Perhaps they had only been cultivated to match the color, because although they were all pale violet, the roses of different breeds had different shapes and released entirely different scents.
One was Luneris, a variety bred in Gratia. From the elegant pale-violet rose came a floral fragrance mixed with notes of lemon and peach peel. It was also a rose Prim had liked.
Another was “Antide,” cultivated in the south. Its color was closer to deep violet, almost purple, and despite being called a rose it carried a strong clove note. Beneath it lay hints of citrus. A resinous scent like myrrh blended with the typical rose aroma, creating a unique and exotic impression.
Prim chose Antide, then added Argentum, which Rozien had once gifted her. As the strangely warm fragrance rising from this unusual Argentum spread—
Before Prim’s eyes appeared the violet rose garden in Gratia, the southwestern territory of the Empire that she had once visited.
The gentle sound of a clear stream flowing in front of the open pavilion crowned with a dome, the warm air, and the overflowing fragrance of pale violet roses.
Whenever she came out to the pavilion and sat near the water, Rozien would tilt a parasol over her.
“The water is warm too.”
When she said that, Rozien would stir the water once with his large hand, then lightly tap the top of her foot as if he were playing with a fish.
Then he would laugh quietly and say,
“It really is warm.”
Suddenly a tear dropped from Prim’s eye.
Startled, she quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
Then she took a deep breath. When she brushed the sole of her foot with her hand, thorns immediately sprouted.
Thud.
With the sound of flesh being pierced, blood quickly began to flow.
Prim smeared her blood on the tabletop, placed a strand of her hair upon it, and spread a towel over the top.
The bouquet trembled as fragrance rose from it.
Prim murmured softly.
“Barin.”
— Oh! My lily-of-the-valley!
As if he had been watching this place from the heavens all along, Barin’s response came immediately. As proof that the voice of the god had arrived, the bouquet before her eyes began to wither.
Prim smiled with relief.
— But there’s no shrine of mine here. What in the world happened? How did you do it? I thought something terrible had happened! From the day you went off to be adopted I’ve been so anxious and worried! Who knows what those lunatics might do! In a place without even my shrine!
“I’m sorry for worrying you. But when I thought about it, Barin, you said that I’m a relic, didn’t you? If I’m a relic and someone who has heard Barin’s oracle, wouldn’t that make me a saint too? So I thought perhaps if my blood was present, the conditions for a shrine would be fulfilled.”
— Blood…?
Offerings to a god and receiving an oracle could only be done within a shrine.
However, simply calling a building a shrine did not make it one.
The ground had to be anointed with the blood of a saint—someone connected to the god, someone who directly heard divine revelations.
A holy relic also had to be enshrined there. The most common relics were the bones of saints, though sometimes tools used in great deeds—like the Sominium censer in Letemor’s shrine—became relics. Or any object bearing the mark of divine power.
In theory, since she was both a relic and a saint, if her blood was spilled somewhere and she herself was present there, perhaps it could function as a shrine.
— You shed blood again!
“I didn’t have a choice… I’m sorry.”
— You think saying sorry is enough? Is it?! My lily-of-the-valley! If something happens to you! If you keep getting hurt! What do you think that does to my heart?!
Prim understood that feeling.
Barin had also staked everything on this regression. If she failed, things would become troublesome for him as well.
In other words, the two of them were running a three-legged race together—and she had suddenly disappeared midway without warning.
“I’m really sorry. How do you like the bouquet? Do you like it a little?”
Barin, who had been about to shout in anger, hesitated.
The bouquet swayed gently even though there was no wind.
— …You’re probably the only person who could create a fragrance like this just by arranging flowers, my lily-of-the-valley. But bouquets are difficult for me to bless, and asking Yulberon for an oracle with this would also be…
“This is just for you to enjoy, Barin. This unusual Argentum—Rozien brought it. The scent is very nice, isn’t it?”
— Hmph! He didn’t bring it for me, he brought it for you.
“Even so…”
— Well, fine. It’s not like the flower itself did anything wrong. So what do you want to ask?
“Pardon?”
— Isn’t there something you want to ask? Hurry up!
Barin spoke with feigned indifference, but he sounded fully prepared to answer any question.
After hesitating for a moment, Prim asked,
“I’m not completely certain… but whenever I create a fragrance and offer it to a god or use it to change something, I seem to get an extremely severe headache. Do you happen to know why?”
— ……
Barin fell silent for a moment.
It seemed to be a question he had never expected.
After a while, he spoke slowly.
— That… sounds like a time headache.
“A time headache?”
Prim blinked at the unfamiliar term.
— When you traveled back through time, if you don’t live exactly as history originally unfolded and instead change something, naturally you must pay a price. The more you change, the greater the price becomes. It seems that in your case, the price manifests as pain.
“Ah, I see.”
Prim nodded after confirming her suspicion.
The faint smoke trembled slightly, and Barin suddenly spoke again.
— Um… my lily-of-the-valley.
“Yes, Prim is here.”
— That… um… did it hurt a lot?
“Pardon? Ah… a little.”
— That… well… it can’t really be helped.
“I know.”
If the price for changing history was merely the pain her human body felt, then it was actually a very cheap cost.
— I really didn’t know! I had no idea something like that would happen!
“I didn’t know either, but I’m glad I know now.”
Without knowing the cause, she might have continued creating fragrances only to be struck by random pain without warning.
Even if it could not be solved, simply knowing the
