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01.
Frederik was mostly reserved and taciturn. He did not like expressing his preferences to outsiders, or rather, baring his soul. Of course, he was also aware that within the Kreiburg family, those who genuinely cared about his likes and dislikes were few. At least his mother—the woman who had strived to save him since his birth—could always see right through him and did her utmost to give him all the love she could.
As a child, Frederik did not understand his father's indifference towards him. The noise in his head constantly plagued him like a demon. He tried every means to find peace, but to no avail. The servants attending to him would whisper about the extensive red marks beneath his expensive clothes. The young Frederik had once sought help, but his very existence had already created a rift between the Kreiburg patriarch and his lawful wife. The sensitive Frederik naturally sensed his mother's vacillation between his father and himself. So, he childishly smashed everything within reach to vent his frustration. And his most beloved mother would always, after maternal instinct overcame personal misgivings, rush to his side. She would embrace him gently and soothe him with soft words. Only within the warmth of his mother's arms, which carried the scent of cornflowers, could Frederik's pain be alleviated somewhat. In his memory, his mother was a presence more moving than music itself.
02.
Melly Ndlovu had been the gardener of the Kreiburg estate's private gardens for almost half a year.
She had come from the countryside to seek a livelihood. Being naturally meticulous, capable, and exceptionally skilled at tending to flowers, she was appointed as the head maid-gardener of the Kreiburgs' private gardens. The gardens were vast, planted with different types of flowers according to the seasons. It was June, and as the Kreiburg garden, it was fittingly planted with a large expanse of cornflowers.
The first time she saw Frederik was when she was among the flowers, catching insects.
The early summer morning still held the chill of late spring. Melly soon spotted a leafcutter bee resting on a stamen, sipping nectar. It was a unique species of solitary bee that neatly cuts leaves to build its nest in cracks of bamboo or wood. Studying insects was one of her few hobbies. During her leisure time, she would occasionally indulge herself and spend a little while with these small creatures. What fascinating beings. She watched it, mesmerized, and quietly moved closer for a better look.
But a sudden rustle from within the flowers startled her from her thoughts and disturbed the leafcutter bee, which promptly sensed the danger and flew away. Puzzled, Melly looked towards the source of the sound and soon discovered the young man.
Frederik's extraordinarily striking appearance first caused her to freeze in place. The young Frederik had not yet tied up his long hair. He lay amidst the sea of flowers, opening his eyes to look at the one who had disturbed his peace. Frederik's eyes were downturned at the outer corners yet slightly upturned at the ends, giving a melancholy hue when he fixed his gaze on someone. He frowned—it seemed he was accustomed to frowning—which added an aloofness to his already melancholic demeanor.
Melly Ndlovu had never seen such a pretty person, or rather, boy. At fourteen, Frederik was already beginning to show the haughty bearing expected of a nobleman grown. Even lying down, he slightly lifted his chin and sternly demanded her identity.
03.
Frederik liked to hide behind his mother to observe the man called his father—a man forever elegant, brilliantly talented, yet who always cast him a cold glance before turning away. Still, due to a child's natural instinct, he held a sense of admiration for his father. The young Kreiburg had once earnestly tried to imitate his father's manner: pursing his lips, frowning, holding his head high. He hoped this was the demeanor befitting a Kreiburg noble. Perhaps one day, when his father looked back, he would see that Frederik could be a child who would make him, make the Kreiburg family, proud. Frederik wanted to prove his worth, to prove that those red marks could not strip him of his talent and value as a Kreiburg.
04.
Melly quickly guessed Frederik's identity from his attire. She politely explained her purpose. Frederik's brow smoothed, but soon it furrowed again.
What was it that always made him so unsettled, with a perpetual frown?
Melly glanced down at him, then quietly withdrew her curiosity. Frederik sat up, extending his hand naturally, expecting her service to help him rise. When he stood and looked up at this gardener he had never noticed before, he realized she had a pair of beautiful blue eyes. An unusually deep and pure blue, echoing the blue cornflowers in the sea of blossoms. A flicker of confusion passed through them before they quickly returned to their owner's calm, undisturbed state.
Stunning.
When Frederik gazed into those eyes, it was like gazing into a field of cornflowers.
05.
Melly ultimately left Kreiburg Manor.
And years later, when Frederik saw her again, she had become the "rather well-known" Madame Plinius. Those cornflower-blue eyes saw people and things with its growing calmness, yet Frederik saw through the subtle joy beneath the woman's placid surface.
Did she know how much gossip her transformation from maid to noble lady had caused?
Melly Ndlovu, or rather, Melly Plinius, was intoxicated by her new identity, yet forced to endure everything that came with being "Madame Plinius"—various high-society gatherings, endless whispers, and the eternal title "Madame Plinius." Even in interviews about her latest collaborative research with Joshua, the parts concerning her always revolved around Joshua Plinius.
06.
Frederik was on the brink of being abandoned by his family. Losing the family's primary support, he was forced to make a living through music. He went from Vienna to Paris, finally settling in a theater. His noble pride made him an outsider in his surroundings, yet the young ladies and married women particularly favored this air of his. His living conditions gradually improved again. But, his music? The demon in his head began to whisper again. As he grew into adulthood, the frequency of this noise had actually decreased significantly, but Frederik obstinately detested it. Because it, along with the red marks he was born with, had caused him to be rejected from the very beginning, cast aside by the baptismal gown embroidered with cornflowers.
Frederik's hands began to move. His fingertips pressed the black and white keys in rhythm. A strange excitement faded, replaced by a fervor for the pursuit of music that swept over him again. He poured out his heart passionately into the music.
This is my music. This is the real me.
Do you see my talent now, Father, Mother?
Do you see my value now, Kreiburg?
The letters that never received replies, the whispered conversations of the "gentlemen," his love and his hatred—all churned within Frederik's chest. Frederik once again became disconnected from the world, finding peace within his music.
The piece ended.
The crowd remained dazed, unable to detach themselves from the intense music. Melly Plinius was the first to politely applaud. She had never imagined this Kreiburg young master could play a piece so imbued with personal emotion. Soon, the women saw the beautiful man regain his composure. He stood up, bowed in thanks, his elegant and noble posture drawing their admiration, teasing remarks, and then applause. Some men also intended to praise the piece's beauty, but seeing the frowns, even jealous glares, of the other gentlemen or lords present, they quickly held back, their hands hovering mid-air before awkwardly slipping into their suit pockets.
In this era, the nobility still favored balanced, concise, formulaic classical music. Composers were expected to suppress personal emotion to create solemn, sacred melodies. But Frederik clearly had his own ideas. As he grew, his compositions became increasingly personal, often carrying intense emotional expression. Perhaps from a later perspective, this was a typical budding stage of Romantic music. But pioneers are always controversial. At least within the noble circles of the time, most considered it too un-"Kreiburg." Because of this, Frederik lost the family trust he had painstakingly rebuilt and was gradually exiled by the family.
07.
Joshua once again told her that the biologists needed to discuss some recent research issues. As his wife, she could rest here for now and did not need to accompany him.
A woman—forever a daughter, a wife, a mother, an assistant, a servant, the dominated. Melly Ndlovu seldom spoke, let alone mentioned her dreams. In the countryside, a girl's destiny was always to marry well. But she was unwilling to accept this foreseeable future. She persuaded her parents and left the village. After many trials, she took up jobs as a maid in different manors and left, until Joshua's arrival, when she finally stayed. She encountered her love, and then became utterly infatuated, believing she could change her fate while marrying the man she loved most.
08.
Many years ago, on a certain night, Frederik once again encountered Melly Ndlovu, who was still working at the manor. She was hiding in the small meeting room of the study, reading an encyclopedia of insects. He hadn't known there were books related to biology in his family's study, but he didn't dwell on that. He asked the girl if she knew that borrowing books without the owner's permission was not allowed. Melly Ndlovu neither nodded nor shook her head. Of course she knew the rules, but she was willing to take the risk. She had discovered the dust-covered books and seen their value. She devoured this knowledge, ordinary in the eyes of nobles but precious to the poor.
She asked him,
"Mr. Frederik, could you play a piece for me?"
Frederik looked at Melly Ndlovu properly for the first time. He should have refused—why should he play for a maid? But those calm eyes looked at him, holding not a trace of the timidity a subordinate should have after committing a mistake. For a moment, Frederik even felt they were looking at each other as equals—as a man and a woman, as an upper-class person and a lower-class one. It was utterly absurd and laughable. He fell silent. Frederik walked to the piano and played a short section of Air on the G String for her. It was one of the few classical pieces he was exceedingly fond of.
09.
Melly Plinius, of course, remembered that night as well, that gently flowing music, like a lamp in the night, subtly soothing two bewildered young souls.
Her gaze swept over the crowd, finally finding Frederik in a corner, having just extricated himself from a throng of admirers. She watched the man step onto the veranda. Some thought prompted her to follow him out.
"Mr. Kreiburg."
Frederik turned and saw those cornflower-blue eyes. He was somewhat weary but could only try to muster his energy for social niceties. But before he could speak, Melly Plinius considerately told him he needn't speak if he was tired.
He looked at her rather oddly. She seemed a bit thinner, her hair still piled up in a complex coiffure, her eyes still looking at people with that same depth, though now holding a few more stories within them. Those eyes now looked at him with sincerity. Even though married, she still possessed a contradictory sense between girlhood and womanhood. Yet, her own disposition lent her more an air of tranquility and beauty, like the spring goddess, Persephone.
Frederik's upbringing did not permit him to truly remain silent. He blinked, surprised to find that deep weariness had actually vanished, with his mood lightening. They conversed as if they were long-lost friends. He greeted her, and Melly nodded in friendly response.
They were silent for a moment. Melly finally spoke first.
"Mr. Kreiburg, thank you for not exposing me that night in the end."
Frederik quickly recalled that nearly dreamlike night. How long had it been since he had conversed with someone like this—free of scheming, sarcasm, veiled barbs, or the need for him to be all things to all people, perfectly serving every guest?
"It was nothing of consequence, Miss Ndlo... No, I mean, Madame Plinius."
A strange emotion, like a fine fishbone, suddenly caught and pricked Frederik's throat. He masked the inexplicable gloom in his eyes. Turning his head, he saw Melly gazing steadfastly beyond the veranda. He followed her line of sight. Far away, bathed in moonlight, was a vast expanse of blue cornflowers.
How wonderful fate was. When they first met, he smelled the faint fragrance of cornflowers and discovered her eye color was a blue as deep as cornflowers. Now, meeting again, he seemed to smell a certain rich floral scent as well. And that blue was both in the distance and right before him.
"They are quite beautiful, don't you think?"
He couldn't help but lean in slightly, then, mindful of propriety, stopped after advancing a few inches. Now he understood; that fragrance came from her.
Was she wearing perfume? It smelled pleasant.
Frederik felt his heartbeat quicken slightly. Unlike the sober craze during musical performance, he felt trapped within this richness, his mind growing slow. A strange excitement rose within him again.
"Yes, they truly are exceedingly beautiful."
Melly turned her head to reply, and their eyes met once more. She froze again momentarily. Everyone likes beautiful things, and she was no exception.
10.
The day after Frederik caught her secretly reading, Melly remained secretly anxious. But the uneventful passage of days made her realize Frederik had not told on her.
They soon returned to their respective positions as maid and master, with almost no further connections. However, occasionally Melly would encounter this "ill-omened and solitary" young gentleman again on certain days. He seemed to enjoy coming to the garden for walks. Was it because he liked flowers?
Melly had inquired a bit about Frederik's circumstances. Perhaps out of gratitude for that night, one morning when she was responsible for delivering fresh flowers to Frederik's mother's room, she casually mentioned in passing that she had heard beautiful music from the music room that morning.
As she anticipated, Frederik was soon discovered by his mother practicing the piano in secret. His musical talent was fully revealed, astonishing others. When she saw the little master who was always frowning again, Melly was pleased to see the lightness in his expression after being praised by his father.
11.
At twenty-eight, Melly Ndlovu once again encountered Frederik Kreiburg in a German town, and Frederik at twenty-six, now completely exiled by his family.
Twenty-six-year-old Frederik had matured considerably, but also looked much wearier. Heavy dark circles shadowed his pale eyes, a clear sign of chronic insomnia. Melly had experienced such times during her legal separation from her husband, so she felt a great deal of sympathy for Frederik's current state. Frederik was also clearly surprised by their reunion, calculating that nearly four years had passed since their last meeting.
After exchanging a few pleasantries, Frederik learned that Melly Plinius had reverted to her maiden name, Ndlovu. Years ago, she had sued Joshua for plagiarism, accusing him of stealing her research. She ultimately won the case, divorced him, and received substantial compensation. Moreover, thanks to that plagiarized academic paper, she successfully broke into the field of biology, a domain women had been barred from for centuries. Melly eventually chose to work as an entomologist and adventurer, traveling to conduct research. Now, their circumstances were reversal.
12.
After completely severing ties with his family, amidst the sorrow, Frederik ultimately chose the music he truly identified with in his heart. Shedding the "Kreiburg" name, his highly personal music actually gained the favor of a few nobles.
The noise in Frederik's head, as the doctor had said, did gradually weaken. He finally found much more peace. Sometimes, when not composing, he would lie alone in his rented small apartment, watching the moonlight through a tiny window.
Frederik would think of his mother. The same old rigid, dull music at the funeral—how could it express the sorrow in his heart? He would use furious octave melody to narrate his grief. He missed his mother. Soon, his thoughts would circle back to the name Kreiburg. For him, was Kreiburg ultimately a shackle or a protection? Frederik faintly sensed the answer in his heart. Then he would think of cornflowers. As a child, when feeling down, he liked to find a quiet spot in the family garden to pass the time. Once the clamor of people faded, the noise in his head became less clear. But the blue eyes of Melly Ndlovu flashed before him for an instant. Oh, and that gardener, the strange maid, Madame Plinius, Ndlovu, also Melly.
Melly, Melly. Frederik had never addressed Miss Ndlovu so intimately. Would she mind if he called her that? Perhaps she could call him Frederik, or even Fred.
Frederik seldom probed his own heart, but thinking of Melly Ndlovu, he couldn't help but ponder. How did a maid become a noble lady? How did such a lady, amidst rumors and gossip, resolutely choose divorce and ultimately become a scholar?
Why did she always wear a veil? Was it to refuse others from scrutinizing her appearance? After all, Melly Ndlovu was indeed quite lovely. For the first time, Frederik felt a twinge of empathy. Perhaps she, like him, had been troubled by striking looks that prevented others from seeing her talent. Frederik suddenly wanted to have done with it all. If a woman could be so brave and strong, why couldn't he, Frederik? He decided to stop thinking about Kreiburg, to stop seeking that recognition. But... he was Frederik Kreiburg. His heart was still entangled with a thousand threads of hesitation. Finally, he resolved to at least take the first step. He would try to care less about others' approval and focus more on the pure creation of music. At the very least, that would be his own progress.
A slight smile tugged at Frederik's lips. Sleepiness finally washed over him. On a rare night without sleeping pills, he began to look forward to meeting Melly Ndlovu again.
13.
Melly invited Frederik to the house she rented. Yes, after several seemingly "chance" encounters, they had finally started using each other's first names.
Melly's rented house was a treehouse in the nearby woods. As Frederik followed her along the forest path, the deep and lush forest made the veiled woman ahead seem momentarily like a witch in a tower from a story, luring travelers. But soon, the Melly's garden full of vigor dispelled Frederik's fancy.
Spring light, as if brewed into an intoxicating liquor, generously cascaded down, dyeing the entire garden into a flowing sea of light and color. The sunlight was no longer the stingy gauze of winter, but a rich golden nectar, sifting through the green dome of new leaves, transforming into countless dancing spots of light on the soft moss of the ground, between the stones of the winding path, dancing gracefully. Smiling, Melly led him into a not-so-large house. The scent of rose tea wafted over. As if by magic, she produced two pieces of honey cake along with some fresh mulberries from somewhere. Frederik was not particularly fond of sweets, but Melly Ndlovu, like a spring fairy filled with a sweet fragrance., granted him an almost wonderful and dreamlike afternoon.
14.
Had Frederik ever told Melly Ndlovu how important she was to him? He thought he had not. They seldom spoke of the past. Both were by nature not talkative. For the most part, they simply sat quietly, enjoying the slow flow of a particular moment. Frederik decided to declare his feelings. He played for her a piece rich in passion and magnificent sound. At the beginning, his heart was still tense, his fingers hovering over the keys, hesitant to press down. Melly was in the audience below, smiling at him. So Frederik summoned what little courage he had and began to play. The piece carried classical sentiment, its opening reminiscent of a pipe organ's solemn voice. Gradually, Frederik again became lost in a torrent of emotion. His fingers never ceased striking the correct keys. The rapid tempo and soaring melody soon conveyed the composer's struggle, his intensity, his hope. A sudden chord plunged the tune into an abyss, tugging at the heartstrings, drawing the listener into a silent, moonlit reverie. It was gentle, slow, occasionally tinged with contemplation. Frederik pressed the final note. Looking up, he still saw Melly smiling at him. But this time, she lifted her chin slightly and gave a quick, firm nod. A stronger, warmer smile reached straight to Frederik's heart. Unconsciously, Frederik smiled back. Proudly, he stood to take a bow. Amid the thunderous applause, he understood that Melly had already grasped all that remained unspoken.
15.
The cornflower is a seemingly ordinary yet resilient flower. Even in the most barren soil, it can tenaciously take root and grow.
Once, Frederik believed the cornflower was the symbol of Kreiburg, the pride of every Kreiburg. Later, he realized that even stripped of his identity as a Kreiburg, he still loved this bloom that dared to steal its hue from the very sky.
16. Afterword
It was a seemingly boundless sea of flowers. Myriads of blossoms held a grand celebration of life, color, and light beneath the early summer's blazing sun. They were the earth's most vigorous heartbeat, issuing a clear and fervent echo in every unfurled petal and every glossy leaf vein. And there they lay amidst it all. By all rights, Frederik's upbringing would not permit him to recline so informally among the flora. But perhaps the late spring was too beautiful. Some unknown bird cried out against the vast sky. Frederik closed his eyes. The noise in his head vanished, strangely and utterly. A serenity he had never known before allowed a tiny, burgeoning happiness to rise within Frederik's heart. Unconsciously, the corners of his mouth turned upward, and he let himself take Melly Ndlovu's hand. Those long, delicate lashes slowly parted. He opened his eyes again, falling into a gaze deeper than the sky. Frederik and Melly looked at one another, both smiling wordlessly, savoring this rare moment. Melly stroked Frederik's silver-white hair, softly humming a lullaby her mother had sung to her in childhood. Their hands were clasped, as if holding the most precious thing in the world. The sun climbed higher. The chirping of insects grew louder. It was a fleeting spring, but it had composed a song that belonged to them alone.
end.