I've Tried Going Back to Life After Dying - Chapter 25

“That won’t do.”

“Eh? But Father, that would make everything so dark-colored.”

At the dinner table, Hildegard told her parents she would attend the royal ball with Atrey.

As Atrey had said, it was the safest choice for two unmarried people, and her parents immediately agreed. But her usually gentle father objected to something else entirely.

“Atrey suggested we coordinate our outfits. I think champagne gold would be lovely. It would complement my hair color too.”

In her previous life, Hildegard had often worn champagne gold for social events.

Clifford’s hair was that beautiful platinum-gold shade, while Hildegard’s was chestnut brown. Yet whenever they attended social gatherings, she would always wear his color. Partly because it had been Clifford’s favorite during their engagement.

“I love seeing you wear my color the most,” he’d said – though that same Clifford had ended up loving golden-haired Helen.

But enough about the past. Right now, champagne gold still seemed perfect to her.

Hildegard, with her forty-year-old soul, couldn’t imagine wearing bright lemon yellow. Unconsciously imprinted by her past life experiences, champagne gold was the only choice when coordinating with gold tones.

Atrey had golden hair and amber eyes. If matching him, champagne gold was the obvious selection.

“That’s not the point,” her father insisted. “You should wear your own colors. You’re our family’s heir, the future head of this house. You can’t bend to your partner’s preferences. If you must coordinate, then Atrey should wear your colors instead.”

“Oh, I think that would suit him,” her mother chimed in unhelpfully. “His hair and eyes are so light. Moss green or deep viridian to match Hildegard’s eyes would look lovely on him.”

“Atrey wouldn’t care what he wears,” Lauren added, almost insultingly. “He has no interest in fashion.”

“Regardless,” her father declared, “you must carry yourself with dignity as you are. Our count’s house has no need for any man who can’t respect you.”

“Atrey will be fine,” Lauren interjected again after her father’s pronouncement. “He’s not particular about anything.” Though it still sounded slightly insulting.

Not that anyone could deny it – despite his handsome features, Atrey showed no interest in adorning himself. Whether from being raised to respect his elder brother or as a second son expected to marry into another family, he lacked the typical obsessions of a firstborn.

“So, what color should I choose then?” Hildegard mused.

Deep viridian to match her sapphire eyes, as her mother suggested? After over twenty years of matching Clifford’s colors, wearing her own felt strangely unfamiliar.

“Hmm?”

Then she remembered.

She had worn them. In fact, those were practically all she’d worn – viridian, navy blue. In winter, deep chocolate-colored velvet.

They’d all been simple day dresses, practical colors that hid ink stains and projected mature dignity befitting a busy marchioness. Her closet had been a world of dark hues.

That’s why wearing Clifford’s bright colors at social events had been such a joy.

“Then for earrings, perhaps citrine or amber?”

“Sister. Wearing Atrey’s stones? People would definitely take that the wrong way.”

Wearing a partner’s colors was tantamount to announcing them as your future spouse.

“Oh no, no no. That would trouble Atrey. Then safely pearls perhaps? Mother, might I borrow your pearl earrings?”

Being named heir meant Hildegard’s colors would differ from her past life. The realization that she’d never wear champagne gold again brought unexpected loneliness.

It hadn’t been forced upon her.

She simply couldn’t forget those words from her fiancé: “I love seeing you wear my color the most.”

“I’m sorry, Atrey. If it’s troublesome, let’s forget about coordinating outfits.”

“Eh? Why?”

The next day when she mentioned matching outfits, Atrey showed no particular preference, as expected.

“It’s a summer night. Viridian sounds nice.”

Hildegard was shocked Atrey had even considered it.

“What about accessories?”

“I’ll borrow Mother’s pearls.”

“Hmm.”

For a moment, Hildegard visualized a viridian dress. It was a color she’d worn daily in her past life, so it should work. And it would suit Atrey too. Golden hair with viridian, wouldn’t that look splendid?

She’d need to order from the dressmaker immediately.

Just as she thought this:

“Our seamstress can make it. Your dress too.” Atrey’s tone made refusal impossible when he asked, “You’ll trust me with this, won’t you?”

“Let our house – no, let me give this to you, as our future heir.”

The determination in Atrey’s amber eyes seemed to accept only one answer: “YES.”