I've Tried Going Back to Life After Dying - Chapter 23

It wasn’t that I had completely forgotten.

After spring comes summer. And with summer comes the royal ball hosted by the royal family.

Every noble daughter love ball.

Young ladies who have reached debutante age are permitted to attend the summer ball.

In my previous life, I attended escorted by Clifford. He had also reached adulthood, and above all, he was the eldest son of a marquis family. And I was escorted by him as his fiancée.

Clifford and I became engaged shortly after entering the academy. I don’t know where he heard about Hildegard, but the proposal came from his side.

Perhaps he had sent letters to households with daughters of similar age, and by chance, Hildegard happened to be the one who responded.

Still, Hildegard was happy. It wasn’t just Hildegard. Father, Mother, and Lauren were all delighted, calling it a good match. No one could have imagined that four years after marriage, things would turn out like that.

One shouldn’t dwell on the past forever.

After returning from death, the hardest part was reliving all the events that had happened before.

Just because I had forgotten didn’t mean it hadn’t been painful. It was painful, but I had finally managed to forget.

And so, I live each day in consultation with my inner peace. That’s the way of life for someone in their forties.

What I realized after turning forty was that life often has things that don’t go as planned, things that can’t be changed no matter how hard you try or how talented you are.

You have to swallow it as “just how things are,” or you’ll be dragged down forever, unable to find closure.

Resignation is a talent that manifests when, after doing all you can, struggling foolishly, and making a fuss, you accumulate enough experiences of “Ah, I did all I could, and it still didn’t work out,” and learn to accept “just how things are.”

Resignation is the jewel polished by life’s tears upon the soul.

Lost in such grandiose thoughts during class, Hildegard once again sank into contemplation.

Today’s topic of thought was the ‘ball.’ Whenever she tried to think about it, only the shining memories of her past life came to mind. Knowing how everything would end, even that joy, that happiness, and that suffering now seemed like things she couldn’t do anything about.

That was what troubled Hildegard. Right in the middle of class.

The teacher kept glancing at her worriedly, wondering what was wrong. Hildegard was completely unresponsive today. But Hildegard, sunk deep in the lake of her thoughts, didn’t even notice.

“Ah, the ball…”

The involuntary, overly loud mutter escaped her lips. Everyone else sighed in relief. Ah, Lady Hildegard, back to normal and relaxed.

Hildegard’s thoughts, however, still drifted at the bottom of the lake.

One shouldn’t keep dwelling on the past, imprisoned by lost love.

Above all, I am to inherit the count’s household. Before that, I want to think about what I can do to help Lauren achieve her dreams.

But before that, there’s the summer ball. Do I really have to go?

In this life, I have no fiancé, and my debut is in winter. Officially, social appearances should come after that.

The royal ball, marking the finale of the season, is even more splendid than the winter soirée and a highlight for young ladies.

But…

Hildegard’s in-class thought journey stretched endlessly, and by the latter half, her muttering became more fluent. Soon, the other students around her began exchanging whispers—”Hey, did you make your dress?” “Who’s your partner?”—and chatter about the ball spread.

“Lady Hildegard. Is there something you don’t understand?”

Before the classroom’s murmurs could turn into a disorderly crowd, the teacher targeted the source of the commotion.

“Nothing at all.”

After spouting a string of mutters and conveniently ignoring that they were all about the ball Hildegard answered nonchalantly.

And so, that class never regained its composure until the very end.

The purpose of attending the ball, for a young lady, is to secure a marriage prospect.

But now, Hildegard has just shifted from being a bride to being the one taking in a husband. Officially, it’s still a delicate, unannounced period.

In such a state, she doesn’t feel compelled to force herself to attend. One could argue it’s also a place to scout potential husbands for Lauren, but right now, she just isn’t in the mood.

“Guess I won’t go. That’s the only option. I struggled because there was only one choice, so I couldn’t reach a conclusion.”

Sighing, Hildegard reflected on her wasted mental journey during class and began preparing to leave.

Once outside the school building, the early summer afternoon stretched long, still far from sunset.

Let’s go home early and watch the sunset in the garden with Lauren again. With that thought, she walked to the carriage.

“Hildegard.”

Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned only to be startled by how close they were.

“What’s wrong, Atrey? Did you run here?”

Atrey’s bangs were tousled by the wind, revealing a glimpse of his fair forehead.

“Fufu, Atrey, you…”

Hildegard reached out and smoothed Atrey’s bangs. Austin, when allowed to play outside, used to run around just like this, his forehead exposed.

She decided not to dwell on the bittersweet nostalgia that came with it.

After all, in this life she had been given again, Hildegard was prepared to do all she could, struggle foolishly, make a fuss, and accumulate those experiences of “Ah, I did all I could, and it still didn’t work out.” Right in the middle of class.