It's Too Late for Regrets - Chapter 8.1

The abbess didn’t notice her reaction, too impressed by the next passage.

 

“His Grace the Grand Duke truly is a natural-born strategist. I never imagined he’d use the Torgen barbarians that way…”

 

“Thanks to him, Jenaire’s fifteen-year glory has come to an end. How lucky we are to have such a man in Lezan. He’ll be a great ally to His Majesty.”

 

He kept speaking like to himself, then suddenly looked up as he realized something.

 

Celia was calmly turning the pages of her book.

 

If she remembered the emperor during his crown prince days, there was a good chance she remembered Grand Duke Eleanor too.

 

Back then, Celia Irope had been famously known for her deep crush on him.

 

“…He really should remarry soon.”

 

Celia didn’t answer the subtly probing remark.

 

Her hand paused for a moment, then continued turning pages. Her expression stayed calm and steady.

 

‘Thank goodness—maybe she really doesn’t remember the Grand Duke.’

 

The abbess sighed in relief and folded the newsletter in half. There was still a lot of news written there.

 

But he didn’t read the rest about the Duchy of Eleanor on purpose. The contents were mostly too cruel for Celia to hear.

 

Like how the Grand Duke dealt with the bodies of the Jenaire royal family.

 

And what a mess Jenaire had become under the hooves of the barbarians.

 

The first person to think of including the barbarians—who had long threatened the western wilderness of the duchy—into the army was the Grand Duke.

 

Everyone in the empire already knew he had wiped them out through five massive campaigns.

 

But few knew that instead of killing them all, he had kept them alive and captured.

 

After even forming an alliance with the neutral kingdoms of Apael and Krine, he led the united forces and the barbarians straight into a campaign against Jenaire.

 

As if he had been planning for this all along, he had spent years developing roads through the western wilderness, allowing the army to charge directly at Jenaire’s flank.

 

With the relentless killing by the barbarians—who didn’t stop until the enemy was utterly destroyed—the allied forces’ military power was far stronger than during the seven-year war.

 

In contrast, Jenaire’s military had grown terribly weak.

 

Their pride from holding continental dominance had made them neglect defense and military buildup.

 

The result was clear.

 

It took exactly a year and a half for the allied forces to recapture Jenaire’s capital.

 

It had already been three months since the Grand Duke personally beheaded the Jenaire Emperor, so by now, the army should have returned to Lezan.

 

With the long war finally over, the capital was probably in a festive mood.

 

The abbess cautiously observed Celia, then spoke carefully.

 

“Once the snow melts a little, Celia… how about returning to the capital?”

 

Celia, now seated comfortably in an armchair with her book closed, looked at the abbess. He smiled kindly and continued.

 

“You’ve fully recovered, and you have no problem riding a horse or carriage anymore. I believe the Count of Irope is quietly hoping for it as well.”

 

“To the capital…”

 

“Yes. It’s where you originally lived, so it may help you recover your memory.”

 

“Of course, only if you want to go. You don’t have to.”

 

The capital of Lezan, Randeva—where the original Celia Irope had lived.

 

Celia hesitated for a long moment, then smiled gently and nodded.

 

“I’ll go. To the place I used to live.”

 

“Good choice. I’ll send a letter to the Count, telling him we’ll return his daughter to the capital by next spring.”

 

The abbess smiled broadly and immediately pulled out letter paper.

 

Celia quietly watched him write the happy news to Count Irope.

 

Celia Irope.

 

That was the name of the original owner of the body Ines had awoken in.

 

Since it wasn’t her original body, she didn’t know everything about Celia Irope. To others, it looked exactly like memory loss.

 

And in truth, even Ines’s own memories weren’t complete.

 

When she had first woken up in pain so intense it felt like her body was breaking, her memories had many black holes.

 

“We’re going back? Sister?”

 

“Yeah. It turned out that way.”

 

“When? In spring? Why? Don’t go.”

 

The children raised in the monastery clung to her skirt, trying to stop her.

 

Ines smiled brightly and bent down toward them.

 

“I told you I don’t remember the past very well, right? That I’ve forgotten a lot?”

 

“Yes! You did.”

 

“I’m going to find those memories.”

 

“Find memories?”

 

“Yes. I want to know what kind of person I used to be.”

 

To the young children, that sounded quite impressive. Their eyes sparkled instantly.

 

Ines patted the heads of the kids, who were only around five or six years old.

 

“I’m not leaving forever. I’ll probably come back a few times a year. I promise.”

 

“Okay. Then if you find out who you really are, tell us everything!”

 

“Yes. I promise.”

 

Only after a pinky swear did Ines manage to free herself from the kids.

 

She watched them scatter and play in the snowy monastery garden for a while.

 

She didn’t remember much.

 

She remembered her name, and what she used to look like. That’s how she realized this wasn’t her own body.

 

And she remembered that when she was very young, she had lived in a castle bigger than this monastery.

 

She didn’t know exactly what country it was in, but she didn’t think she was treated well there.

 

Her memories of that place were of cold, small rooms, clutching her hungry belly, being scolded by maids, and hiding from people in the bushes.

 

Then, when she grew a bit older, she spent a short time in a palace ten times more glamorous than that castle.

 

No matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t figure out why her treatment had changed so suddenly.

 

But she had left that luxurious place on her own and moved to a coastal city.

 

That memory was the clearest one Ines had.

 

The names in her memory mostly belonged to people from that time.

 

‘Doctor Robert, Neia and Ronya, the mother and daughter…’

 

She remembered saving Neia and Ronya from danger and bringing them to Doctor Robert’s herb shop. Her memory stopped there again.

 

That had been in the autumn of her twentieth year.

 

And from twenty to twenty-six…

 

Those six years were completely blank.

 

‘It feels like I forgot something very important…’

 

Her golden eyes turned somber.

 

Among the seven or eight children playing in the yard, her gaze settled on one— a six-year-old with black hair.

 

Her red lips parted.

 

“Black hair… green eyes.”

 

She felt like she had once known a child like that.

 

Her heart ached. She tried and tried to remember the child’s face, but always failed.

 

Please, anytime is fine—just let the memory return when I least expect it.

 

Like the memory she had suddenly recalled today while reading in the abbess’s study.

 

Come to think of it, there had been something notable in that memory.

 

“I’m telling you this so you won’t be bored. Write me a letter, any story at all, like chatting with a dear friend. If you send it here, it will be delivered to me.”

 

Ines put down her broom and went inside.

 

She climbed the tower on the left of the central stairs, where the nuns lived, found her room, and pulled out a blank sheet of paper.

 

The address…

 

A man with golden hair that shone like sunlight and warm chocolate-colored eyes.

 

What was the address he had told her—the one where she could send letters to be delivered to him?

 

Trying too hard to remember often made her doubt the memories she did have.

 

Ines closed her eyes and emptied her mind. She held her pen and waited quietly.

 

Soon, her hand began to move.

 

The flower shop across from the Eucalyptus statue, in Randeva, Lezan.

 

Ines opened her eyes and read what she had written.

 

She couldn’t be sure the memory was correct… or even if the person in her memory was really the Emperor of Lezan. But this was her only lead.

 

She pulled out a fresh sheet and began writing a letter quickly.

 

Unknowingly, she wrote in court language—used only among Lezan’s nobility.

 

She finished the short letter, sealed it in an envelope, and hurried downstairs.

 

The mailman who had delivered the capital’s newsletter was just about to ride off.

 

She called out.

 

“Wait!”

 

“Celia?”

 

The abbess, who had been offering a prayer for the traveler, turned around in surprise.

 

Ines held out five copper coins and the letter with trembling hands.

 

“Could you… send this to the address written here?”

 

“A letter from you, miss? Of course.”

 

The courier smiled warmly and took the envelope.

 

A few minutes later, the horse carrying the visitor rode off through the monastery gates.

 

Ines watched his shrinking figure beyond the snowy fields for a long time.

 

On her way back to the monastery building, the abbess—his eyes touched with curiosity—asked her,

 

“A letter, all of a sudden? Did you remember something again?”