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Hildegard thought.
Right now, I am Hildegard Hastings Radmond. Probably.
“Probably” because until just a few hours ago, before dawn broke, she had borne a different name.
In her most recent memories, she was Hildegard Wall Longfall referred to as the Marchioness of Longfall.
Hildegard recalled the man who had been her husband until last night or more precisely, until three days ago.
Clifford Wall Longfall. Until three days ago, he had been the head of the Longfall marquisate.
Deceased at forty-one years of age.
Yesterday had been the day of his funeral.
It seemed that Hildegard, too, had met her end on the very night she buried her husband.
Just before the curtain fell on her life, Hildegard had prayed to God.
She had regrets.
“There are two things I regret. First, becoming his wife. Because of me, the woman he truly loved could only remain his mistress for so long. So, even if it’s futile, I’d like to make one request.”
“Could I go back?”
And indeed, God granted Hildegard’s wish.
This work has been previously published under a different penname on another site.
