I've Tried Going Back to Life After Dying - Chapter 7

“What’s wrong, Hildegard? You seem a bit… well, today.”

He didn’t need to finish that sentence. No doubt he thought I resembled some auntie from the family.

Well, in a sense, he wasn’t wrong. Hildegard was indeed related to Atrey, and until yesterday, she had been an auntie.

With age comes a certain resignation to things, and people generally grow more tolerant.

Even if her cousin thought of her as an auntie, Hildegard could easily forgive him.

Looking around the hallway, forgotten memories resurfaced. She had been so dismissive about her own class, thinking it too troublesome to bother with, but now, at last, it was all coming back to her.

Hildegard was in the “General Studies” track. Had she known she would die and return to this point over twenty years later, she would have chosen “Territory Management” without hesitation.

If she had claimed it was to support her frail younger brother, her parents would have allowed it, and everyone else would have accepted it without question. At the very least, she wouldn’t have wanted anyone to think Lauren would pass away so young.

Well, at least she hadn’t chosen “Ladies’ Finishing.” She should give her past self some credit for that. Though, reflecting on the woman she had been until yesterday, she wondered—had she ever truly been a lady?

Hildegard believed she had been a reasonably competent noblewoman until yesterday. She had worked hard enough that modesty wasn’t necessary.

But had she been a lady?

“Hmm. Doubtful.”

Damn. She’d let her thoughts slip out again.

“What is? Something suspicious?”

Atrey seemed to have already decided that Hildegard was acting strange today, yet he refrained from outright saying, You’re the weird one. That restraint alone marked him as a proper nobleman.

“Ah, no, my apologies. Just talking to myself.”

Hildegard had not been a lady. She had been a little too bold for that. Bold enough not to shed a single tear at her husband’s funeral.

She recalled Helen, who had wept uncontrollably despite Austin calling her a nuisance.

If I had cried like that, would you have left me even a shred of love?

Only a few hours had passed since she returned to this life.

Her mind was in her forties, but her body was in its teens. The recovery ability was staggering.

In the short walk down the hallway, information flooded in through her eyes, ears—hell, even her nose.

She processed it all with the efficiency of a royal secretary, slicing through and absorbing everything.

She couldn’t help but feel the power surging beneath her skin, glowing from within.

“Atrey, youth is wonderful. And cruel. I’ll remember this feeling, only to age another day by tomorrow.”

“Hildegard. Does your stomach hurt? Fever? Should we go to the infirmary? You really are acting strange today.”

Atrey had thrown out several questions but ultimately circled back to suggesting the infirmary.

“I’m me. Nothing’s wrong anywhere.”

“That’s exactly what’s weird. If you can’t go alone, I’ll come with you. What do you say?”

Apparently, Atrey was genuinely concerned that something was off with Hildegard.

“I’ll be fine. I think I’ll adjust in a couple of days.”

Atrey furrowed his brows skeptically at her response.

In hindsight, school life had been comfortable.

Though it was only just past morning classes, Hildegard found herself wanting to scold her past self.

First of all, the teachers were competent.

Faced with students barely out of childhood, they had clearly put thought into how to deepen understanding, their lessons brimming with creativity.

Catching glimpses of that unseen effort, Hildegard found herself nodding deeply at every word, thinking, Yes, yes, the professor is absolutely right.

Eventually, she locked eyes with a teacher who seemed to sense her enthusiasm.

Among students pretending to focus on textbooks while daydreaming about tea shops after class, Hildegard nodding emphatically stood out like a sore thumb.

By the end, it had turned into a one-on-one duel between her and the teacher. And this happened in all four morning classes.

Truly enriching.

She was seated, yet questions were directed at her. Seated, yet guided to the answers.

To be so prepared and beckoned forward while just sitting there even His Majesty the King would have exerted some effort.

It was embarrassing to think that her past self had found this privileged life “boring” for three whole years.

She tidied up the pens and notebooks on her desk. Incidentally, her notebook was densely packed with notes, capturing every supplementary remark from the teachers.

Knowledge was something one usually had to pay for. Well, her father was covering tuition, so perhaps it was fine.

Lost in thought, she finished organizing her desk.

“Lunch at last. The school cafeteria after so long. How thrilling.”

Hildegard didn’t realize it, but her muttering carried the full force of middle-aged woman soliloquy.

The others were staring at her, baffled by her uncharacteristic chatter, but Hildegard long accustomed to the scrutiny of being a marchioness barely noticed. To her, their gazes were but a breeze.

A shadow fell over her, and she looked up to find Atrey standing there.

Atrey was in the same class. She had completely forgotten.

“You seem famished. I never took you for a cafeteria enthusiast.”

Atrey smiled faintly, half-amused, at Hildegard’s excitement over school lunch.