I've Tried Going Back to Life After Dying - Chapter 24

“You seemed quite troubled about the ball earlier.”

From Hildegard’s dramatic soliloquy, Atrey seemed to grasp the subject that had been weighing on her mind.

“Yes. But it’s resolved now, so no worries.”

“Resolved how?”

“I’m not going. I’ll stay home.”

“You mean you’re not attending the ball?”

“Exactly. My parents are going, so I’ll keep Lauren company at home.”

Walking with Atrey toward the carriage house, she reported her decision as though it were settled.

“Sounds boring. Why not come? We could go together.”

“Huh?”

The Atrey that Hildegard knew had always been quietly popular in social circles.

Not the current Atrey, but the man he’d become after coming of age. The handsome, unmarried head of the Earl’s household, considered quite the eligible bachelor.

With his clean, refreshing features and tall stature, he was the very picture of a gentleman among gentlemen.

Wise and upright, he’d competently managed the earldom with steady hands after Lauren’s passing. He’d even stood in for Hildegard at her parents’ funerals when her married status limited how involved she could be with her birth family.

Yet in all her memories, Hildegard could scarcely recall Atrey ever appearing to enjoy himself at social events.

Unmarried and thus without a partner, he’d often seemed a solitary figure.

He could have escorted young ladies or married relatives, but his integrity likely made him avoid sparking rumors. More than anything, he’d always made time for Hildegard.

Clifford never brought Helen to social gatherings no matter how small, his partner was always Hildegard. This seemed to be his personal rule, never blurring the lines between mistress and wife.

But her husband had many friends. At any event, he’d immediately be surrounded by well-wishers forming lively conversation circles, circles Hildegard never joined. She’d assumed their talks included intimate topics, perhaps even about Helen, and so kept her distance.

What Clifford thought of this, she never asked.

Yet whenever she retreated from the glittering crowds to rest on the terrace, Atrey would invariably join her.

It hadn’t been so long ago that these two socially fatigued souls would sip champagne in the night breeze, exchanging trivial chatter.

“Atrey, did you actually like balls?”

“Not enough to attend many, surely.”

True enough. The newly adult Atrey and debutante Hildegard were mere fledglings in society—daytime tea parties being their usual social fare.

“Come with me.”

“What? But people would start strange rumors about you.”

Choosing partners required caution. Unattached men and women would be seen as potential matches, and society watched every pairing with keen interest summer vacation gossip fodder.

Though her body was maidenly, Hildegard’s middle-aged soul understood these nuances perfectly.

“You’re my cousin. Without existing engagements, family escorts are the safest choice, don’t you think?”

“True…”

Her earlier “not going” resolution wavered under Atrey’s casual suggestion, the single option now becoming two.

“But Lauren would be left alone.”

“Lauren wouldn’t want you sacrificing things for her sake.”

“True.”

“Besides,” Atrey continued, “I promised Lauren something recently.”

“What?”

“That until you’re engaged, I’d be your social escort.”

“What? I never heard about this!”

“Because I never told you.”

Lauren trusted Atrey completely. Even beyond being cousins, they simply got along.

“I’ll match your outfit.”

“Wait, you’re planning coordinated costumes?”

Atrey stopped walking then, giving Hildegard an appraising look from head to toe.

“What?”

Don’t look at me like that, it’s embarrassing.

This flustered feeling was unfamiliar, the tart-sweet sensation making her wonder: Is this what being a teenager feels like?

Under tall Atrey’s gaze, petite Hildegard felt herself shrinking further.

“Looking forward to it.”

“Huh?”

“Hmm? It’ll be my first nighttime social event.”

“…Right.”

Of course. Her past life’s nightly galas belonged to another era. Now she was a fresh-faced youth.

The realization brought memories flooding back.

All her teenage social recollections were tinted with Clifford. But she’d chosen a different path this time.

“You’re right, Atrey. Let’s enjoy ourselves.”

Resolving to savor her first proper adult social event in this life, as Atrey suggested.

“What color shall we choose?”

“I’ll match you.”

“Really? With this hair and eyes, we’ll look so somber!”

They continued this banter until reaching the waiting carriage.

Had she ever had such conversations in her past life? As the wife of a marquis, she’d mostly deferred to Clifford’s preferences. After marriage, she’d increasingly relied on their regular dressmaker too.

“I’m getting excited, Atrey.”

Turning to him by the carriage, when Hildegard said this, Atrey simply replied, “Yeah.”

The memory of them sharing champagne on a moonlit terrace, cooled by night breezes, surfaced with sudden nostalgia.