I've Tried Going Back to Life After Dying - Chapter 5

“Hildegard, were you here? You’re going to be late—wait, what’s wrong? Didn’t you have enough breakfast?”

While sitting side by side on the sofa in Lauren’s room, eating cookies, my mother came to fetch me.

It seemed she had been looking for Hildegard, who hadn’t come down to the entrance hall even though the carriage was ready.

“Mother.”

“Are you already hungry? Should I have served steak for breakfast?”

“That’s not it, Mother. I just wanted to see Lauren’s face before heading off to that tedious (second time mentioning it) academy.”

“Is that so?” Mother glanced at Lauren, who responded with a bright smile.

“Even if I grant you that, it doesn’t explain why you’re stuffing yourself with cookies.”

“Cookies taste best when eaten while gazing at Lauren’s face. Would you like one, Mother?”

Hildegard crunched away at the cookies Uncle had brought for Lauren’s visit. As Lauren watched her cheerfully, even Mother absentmindedly picked one up.

“Honestly, you’re going to be late. If you delay any further, you’ll end up arriving with the ‘Duke-Marquis group.'”

The “Duke-Marquis group” was Mother’s shorthand for the children of ducal and marquis households. Incidentally, no other family would dare use such a rude abbreviation.

At the academy attended by noble children, arrival times were strictly scheduled according to family rank.

Starting with commoners, gentry, and baronets, the procession continued up to the highest-ranking ducal families, with the royal family making their entrance last to mark the beginning of classes.

As the daughter of an earl, Hildegard was on the verge of encroaching on the Duke-Marquis group’s designated time if she ate just one more cookie.

“Well, I suppose I must go. Hup!”

Her forty-year-old habit of saying “Hup!” when standing up wasn’t going away anytime soon. Even though nothing hurt, she instinctively supported her back and let out the phrase.

Mother seemed slightly bewildered by the oddly mature aura her daughter exuded.

“Though it’s a bother (second time mentioning it), I shall take my leave now, Mother.”

A remnant of her days as a marchioness, accustomed to giving orders, surfaced her chin lifted slightly, exuding the air of a noble lady.

“Ah, yes… Oh dear, look at the time! Hurry, Hildegard!”

Urged by Mother, Hildegard left the room but not before turning back.

“I’ll be back, Lauren.”

She kissed Lauren’s forehead. The sweet scent of Lauren’s hair made her inexplicably want to cry this early in the morning.

“Sister. I’ll be waiting for your stories.”

“Of course. They probably won’t be anything special, but I’ll try to make them entertaining.”

Time was truly running out now. She quickened her pace down the hallway and called out to Mother’s retreating back.

“Mother.”

In an instant, she was at Mother’s side, startling her.

Walking briskly at the same speed, Hildegard leaned in close to Mother’s left ear, whispering as if sharing a secret.

“About that servant with sticky fingers is there truly no other choice? You might want to take a closer look at the recent hires.”

It didn’t sound like something a sixteen-year-old girl would say, but given that she had been a marchioness well into her forties until yesterday, it couldn’t be helped.

Mother looked shocked, but being the lady of an earl’s household, she quickly grasped what Hildegard meant.

By the carriage, the coachman was already waiting.

How nostalgic—Paul. Heh, still so young. Seeing Paul after decades, he looked barely thirty.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Not at all.”

His voice was youthful too.

Young Paul offered his hand to help her up the carriage steps.

Huh? My knees don’t hurt.

One small discovery after another. Her hips, knees, even her shoulders—all moved lightly and smoothly. The weariness that had once weighed her down like an invisible burden was completely gone.

As the carriage set off, she gazed out the window. In the garden, she spotted the servant she had just mentioned to Mother.

That girl isn’t a gardener.

“Well, I’ll leave it to Mother. If she can’t handle it, I’ll deal with it myself.”

The moment she said it, Hildegard had already moved on. As a marchioness who had been constantly busy, once she resolved one matter, she had to immediately focus on the next.

The spring garden was in full bloom, filled with flowers Mother had meticulously cultivated. Hildegard had never been good at gardening. The marquisate’s gardens had been left entirely to the gardeners. So, she had never done anything as charming as taking her husband’s hand and asking for a stroll.

As she admired the vibrant array of flowers Mother had arranged, the carriage passed through the gates. The main road felt closer here. The earl’s estate was nearer to the city than the marquisate she had married into.

The marquisate had been built even closer to the royal castle.

“This will save time for errands. The town hall and the bank seem conveniently close too.”

Every thought that crossed her mind was that of a marchioness.

Her eyes skipped over the quaint cafés and jewelry shops.

Jewelry? The treasure vault was already overflowing with pieces from past marchionesses. Some of the older ones were practically national treasures maintaining them had been such a hassle.

Suddenly remembering, she reached behind her head and touched the lace ribbon Louise had tied for her. A pure white lace ribbon—it had been so long since she’d worn one. She recalled her usual tightly pinned-up hair from just yesterday.

Come to think of it, Helen had always worn her hair loosely flowing. Since she was officially unmarried, she had kept it down like a young lady, never tying it up.

“Helen. You won’t have to learn how to pin up your hair here.”

May my husband meet her and spend his life with the woman he truly loves. She pretended not to notice the faint loneliness she felt.

Forgetting and letting go—those were her greatest weapons.

It was something she had learned with age.