I've Tried Going Back to Life After Dying - Chapter 20

Why had I stepped into that annex that day?

Even after eighteen years since the day I met her, even after bidding farewell to my late husband, I still didn’t understand.

Now, having returned from death and reconsidering it all, I still couldn’t fathom my own heart that day.

All I remembered was the sorrow that had filled my chest wondering why I had lost my husband’s love.

I couldn’t bear him a child. That must have been the biggest reason, I knew. But was love so fragile that it would vanish just because I couldn’t give him an heir? The fickleness of a noble’s love left me disillusioned.

But now, by divine providence, I had been given a second chance at life. It would be a waste to remain trapped in the past, squandering precious time.

As I thought about what truly mattered, Hildegard suddenly had an idea.

“Mother, let’s show Lauren the sunset.”

The spring evening was warm, the air still carrying the heat of the day’s sunlight. The gentle breeze against her cheeks, the sight of her mother’s carefully tended flowers bathed in the glow of the setting sun she wanted Lauren to see it all.

Soon, her mother’s attendant returned to the mansion, and Hildegard followed.

She hurried up the grand staircase, heading straight for Lauren’s room at the end of the hall.

“Lauren, I’m back. How are you feeling?”

“Sister, welcome home.”

Still brimming with energy from her dash up the stairs, Hildegard knelt beside Lauren’s bed.

“How’s your condition?”

“Absolutely fine.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

There were only a handful of days each month when Lauren could honestly say he was “absolutely fine.”

“I was watching you and Mother from here.”

From the window of Lauren’s room, the garden stretched out below.

“The sun is setting. It’s dyeing Mother’s flowers crimson. Would you like to see?”

“Of course, I would.”

The brawny knight standing guard behind them lifted Lauren into his arms.

Though Lauren muttered about feeling embarrassed, he clung tightly to the knight’s shoulders.

Carefully descending the stairs so as not to jostle him, they were joined by the butler as they stepped into the entrance hall.

“Sister, the sky looks like it’s on fire.”

“It really does.”

Even for the healthy Hildegard, moments like this lingering to watch the evening sky were rare.

Life was always busy, and in a world where each morning was a given, she seldom paid attention to the cycles of seasons, the rising and setting of the sun.

“Lauren.”

Their mother rushed over, standing beside Lauren. Before they knew it, their father had stepped outside too, and the four of them stood together, gazing at the unremarkable yet beautiful spring twilight.

The sky was breathtaking. The scent of their mother’s flowers drifted on the breeze, and Lauren seemed to notice it too.

“Mother’s garden is beautiful.”

“It really is, Lauren. I think so too.”

If a garden could soothe hearts like this, Hildegard wondered if she should try gardening herself. Maybe then she’d understand, even a little, how her husband had been drawn to Helen, who had been so skilled at growing flowers.

“The sun sets too. But the sun also rises again.”

As Lauren spoke his heart aloud, his parents and Hildegard listened with a bittersweet ache, emptiness mingling with sorrow.

“Lauren, what do you want to do? What do you want to be?”

Hildegard asked.

Like the setting sun casting its final glow, a deep red flush spread across Lauren’s cheeks. Squinting against the brightness, he murmured softly.

“I want to be an astronomer.”

Confined to his bed, with only the sky visible through his window, Lauren had become enchanted by the ever-shifting planets above.

“There’s a star you can only see with your eyes a few times a year.”

“What is it?”

“Mercury. The closest planet to the sun. It’s usually lost in the sun’s glare. But a few times a year just before sunrise, or right after sunset, in that fleeting moment before night falls it shows itself.”

Watching Lauren speak with such vitality, Hildegard made up her mind.

“Hildegard.”

Turning at the sound of her name, she found Atrey standing there with a troubled expression.

“What’s wrong, Atrey? You look serious.”

When she asked directly, his brow furrowed further.

“I heard.”

“Heard what?”

Atrey glanced around cautiously.

“Let’s talk over there.”

His careful avoidance of prying eyes spoke of his usual caution.

The morning halls of the academy were noisy. Stepping away from the clamor, they moved near the entrance.

“What is it?”

“About Lauren.”

“Ah. You heard from Uncle, then.”

After that evening, she had discussed it with her parents and eventually, with Lauren himself. It was a matter that would shape Lauren’s life and drastically alter Hildegard’s path. Later, Atrey’s father, their uncle, had joined the conversation.

“Lauren is stepping down as heir. I’ll become the head instead.”

“Hildegard, you—”

“Listen, Atrey.”

He stared at her intently.

“I want him to live his limited time to the fullest. He can do it. No because it’s him, he will do it. You know how brilliant Lauren is, don’t you?”

Their parents had named Lauren heir despite knowing his life would not be long. It must have been their desperate hope, their last resort.

Lauren had accepted it too, already beginning his education as heir.

But that night, after the family had watched the sunset together, Hildegard had spoken up at dinner.

She wanted to take Lauren’s place as heir. Lauren should pursue the path he desired, using his talents to their fullest.

That was the night the path opened for Hildegard, the future Countess.