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After saying that, Mrs. Bellemare stood and walked toward the door. The maid beckoned Alex to follow her, before picking up the water pitcher and the glasses.

The lady walked towards the back end of the house, still taking measured steps. It was like walking to her was still part of her acting as a lady.

Mind you, it might be. Alex had never been close to anyone from a posh family, so he knew next to nothing about proper etiquette.

They reached a small veranda at the back of the house that overlooked their small but very prosperous yard. In the center of that yard, there was a large paved area.

Alexander immediately guessed that was where the pool used to be. Violette had told him how her father had it filled in the week following her brother\'s funeral.

Mrs. Bellemare took a seat at a nice patio set, and as she did, she caught Alex\'s gaze. When she followed it, and saw what he was looking at, her eyes saddened.

"A perpetual reminder of what happened." She said with a sigh.

"Why don\'t you move out? It wouldn\'t be uncommon or weird to want to move out of a house where such a tragedy happened."

"This house has been in my husband\'s family for generations. He would never move out of here."

"Does your husband not care what you think?"

Astaroth was getting a better picture of why Violette didn\'t particularly talk about her family. This didn\'t feel like the tight-knit family he had.

Quite the opposite, from the vibes he was feeling at the moment.

"My husband was raised in a very patriarchal environment. So he is quite… Stubborn. The opinions of a woman have less weight in his eyes than his own."

"That sounds very misogynistic…"

"Young man, nothing in life is black or white. There are large amounts of grey zones you must learn to navigate, and marriage is one such thing."

"I\'m sorry if I sounded patronizing, Mrs. Bellemare."

"It is quite okay. It\'s also refreshing to hear a man apologize. Your parents raised a good kid."

"Thank you. I\'m sure they are happy to hear that wherever they may be now."

"Now, let\'s get to our principal business. I can see you have no ill intention toward my daughter, or my family. But why does she want to visit you, when I can simply have you come here, where she is safe?"

"You would have to ask her. She was the one who asked if she could come to my place, and I told her to check with you first. I fully understand the misunderstandings such a young girl going to a grown man\'s home would cause."

"Hmm." The mother hummed, pensively.

She lifted her hand, signaling the maid she wanted something. The elderly woman got closer, giving a curt bow.

"Fetch Violette please, Martha."

"As you wish, my lady."

The maid departed, leaving Alex alone with Mrs. Bellemare, who was silently looking at the gardens at her side. Alex didn\'t want to disturb her thoughts, so he started looking at the flowers, too.

The garden was a lovely mix of red and purple flowers, that blended in so well with the luscious scene the house already depicted. It was the kind of garden emperors would have.

Alex looked on in amazement as the flowers drew his attention like a magnet. He barely noticed his surroundings.

At some point he almost felt vertigo, and he reeled back, this head spinning.

"Hahahaha. You let your senses get lost in the flowers, did you?" Mrs. Bellemare asked, after laughing lightly.

"What was that?"

"It\'s the flower arrangement. It was set to pull you in if you stare too long at one flower. The purple flowers act as the attraction, and the red flowers obfuscate your senses."

"How can a flower arrangement do that?" Alex asked, befuddled.

"We had a hypnotist set a pattern, and the two-tone flowers to the rest. The colors we chose are the two colors we associate with our children." The woman responded, still looking at the flowers, with a soft smile.

Alex could feel the nostalgia washing off the woman, and it was mixed with intense sadness. He could tell she was not remotely close to being done grieving.

"Mrs. Bellemare—"

"Please, call me Katherine. I think as a friend of my daughter, you deserve at least that freedom." The woman interjected, smiling softly at him.

"In that case, don\'t mind if I do. Katherine, can I ask you a very personal question?"

"As long as it isn\'t anything unbecoming, yes."

"Have you really taken time to grieve? With your husband, I mean?"

"Is it that obvious?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I\'ve lost my family. I can recognize that much at a glance."

"We seldom have time to stop and grieve. Especially Richard, my husband."

"Maybe you should take time?"

"We couldn\'t if we wanted. We still have to take care of Violette. But thank you for worrying about us. It is very noble of you."

Violette arrived near the garden and heard that last sentence as her mother said it. Instead of walking out, she hid near the door and eavesdropped.

After a moment of silence, Alexander thought of something he could do for the woman. If his plan worked, both the parents would get to mourn, and that might help mend the relationship in their family.

"I may have a solution for you, Katherine. Would you be interested in hearing it?"

That piqued the woman\'s interest, and she stopped gazing at the flowers.

"Pray tell."

"What if I took the burden off of you, for the time you need?"

"What burden?"

"What if I temporarily took care of your daughter? I have enough room in my home, and I\'m not half bad at cooking, so she wouldn\'t die of food poisoning, hehe."

The woman looked at him incredulously, her eyes going slightly wider.

"I couldn\'t… I wouldn\'t dare ask—"

"Please. I insist. I believe mourning our lost ones is a crucial step in walking forward. It wouldn\'t bother in the slightest to take care of Violette in the meantime."

"But what about you? Wouldn\'t your schedule be all messed up?"

"Mrs. Bellemare–Erm… Katherine. I don\'t have a schedule to begin with. My money comes from investments and playing New Eden. I have all the free time in the world."

"I don\'t know if–"

"Say yes! Please, mom!" Violette came rushing in, her outburst a plea.

She practically threw herself at her mother\'s feet, her hands locked together.

"Please say yes," she repeated.