I've Tried Going Back to Life After Dying - Chapter 22

“What I’m trying to say is something else,”

Atrey’s concern seemed to lie elsewhere.

“What about you?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, what about you?”

“Atrey…”

“You’re the one sacrificing your own happiness for the sake of the family, aren’t you?”

The sharpness in Atrey’s expression had faded, replaced now by a look of gentle concern.

“Where does your happiness lie?”

“That’s what it means to be nobility.”

“Don’t just bring up nobility when it’s convenient.”

Atrey reached out and ruffled Hildegard’s hair roughly.

“W-what are you doing?”

Before her hair could even settle, her heart was already in disarray.

“You don’t need to use your noble status as an excuse for an unfulfilling life.”

“Atrey…”

“You deserve to be happy too.”

“Atrey. I am happy.”

From the colorless world where Clifford was gone, she had been reborn into one where her family still existed.

In this life, though she and her husband would walk separate paths, he would finally have Helen from the very beginning.

Hildegard didn’t want to be someone who stood in the way of another’s happiness not even for her own.

She wouldn’t make the same mistakes again.

Her parents were here. Lauren was here.

That alone was enough to make her happy.

“Then be even happier.”

“Huh?”

“You can do it. Well, you’re plenty lively as it is.”

Was it because she muttered loudly to herself? Or because she nodded too vigorously during lectures?

“I want to see you smile.”

As he spoke, Atrey brushed back the bangs he had just mussed up, his fingers lingering gently.

“A-Atrey…”

It had been so long since a man had touched her that Hildegard felt genuinely flustered, her heart racing like a maiden’s.

“Let’s go. Class is about to start.”

She felt like she’d been deftly sidestepped, but it was true they needed to get to the classroom soon.

“Hey, Hildegard.”

As they walked side by side up the stairs, Atrey spoke up again.

“What is it, Atrey?”

“What are you going to do about your debut?”

Come to think of it, she had forgotten. This year, Hildegard was to make her debut in society.

“…I hadn’t thought about it at all.”

“See? You always put yourself last. Just like I said.”

The shift from “you” to “you idiot” marked the return of their childhood dynamic—cousins, childhood friends, completely at ease with each other.

“If no one else steps up, I wouldn’t mind escorting you myself.”

“Oh, listen to you with your fancy words. ‘Wouldn’t mind,'” Hildegard mimicked Atrey’s tone and phrasing.

That’s right. In her previous life, Clifford had escorted her to her debut. By then, they were already engaged.

Now, their paths had diverged completely. The realization struck Hildegard anew. She hadn’t even noticed Atrey falling silent.

“Again?”

That evening, when she returned to the estate, her father called her over with a grimace.

“Since your succession hasn’t been announced yet, we can’t help it for now.”

Another letter of courtship had arrived. The previous ones had been declined at her request, though she hadn’t even bothered to check which families had sent them.

She had refused them all with vague excuses waiting until her brother’s health improved, or some other flimsy reason.

Perhaps among them were sons from families whose children attended the same academy.

“Please decline it with the same reason as before.”

“It’s from the same family as before.”

“What?”

Apparently, the family she had just refused had sent another letter.

“Don’t you want to take a look?”

“Hah? Father, what’s there to see? The answer is still no. It’d be rude just to look.”

“For the memories.”

“I don’t need those kinds of memories.”

Was her father reluctant to let go of the daughter he had always assumed would marry out? He kept insisting she at least glance at the letter.

“Shouldn’t I be the one sending out courtship letters instead?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. If someone were asking to marry into our family, that’d be one thing. But I won’t have you advertising yourself like some commodity.”

“I might not even sell.”

“Nonsense! You’d have suitors lining up.”

Raised under the doting gaze of her parents, Hildegard had always been told how precious she was. In reality, her petite frame might barely qualify as cute but that was about it.

She didn’t have soft golden hair or delicate eyes.

Her dark, wavy locks and deep blue eyes exuded a strong will, softened only slightly by the slight droop of her eyelids.

Yet despite all this, Clifford had cherished her.

For the first few years, at least.

Well, even after finding Helen, the peculiar man had continued to call Hildegard “my wife” and never treated her coldly.

Perhaps he had simply redefined her role from lover to partner. But was there still love in that?

“Maybe I should review the noble registry.”

“Hildegard. Don’t undersell yourself.”

“I am a commodity, Father. As a countess, it’s my value that’s being appraised.”

“You’re clever. I won’t have some fool for a son-in-law.”

And just like that, amid their conversation, the matter of the second courtship letter was brushed aside.