I've Tried Going Back to Life After Dying - Chapter 9

“It was a profoundly meaningful time.”

The afternoon classes were also highly enriching.

If general studies were like this, just imagine how much practical knowledge she could have gained in the Estate Management track.

Over and over, she wished she’d died and returned just one month earlier. Had that been the case, she would have chosen “Estate Management” without hesitation.

Though of course, that would have required her husband to die a month earlier too. And if Hildegard had passed away first, even slightly ahead of him, her husband would have had to trouble himself with funeral arrangements.

“Well, in that case, my lord would have gotten to be with Helen for at least one more month.”

Thinking this, she realized that since her wish alone had been enough to return through death, she should have prayed to the gods much sooner.

Like most middle-aged women, her thoughts tended to chain together.

One thought led to another, branching off from the edges of her mind, topics shifting freely as her internal monologue continued its wandering course. A habit that usually left men struggling to keep up before eventually dropping out of the conversation entirely.

Hildegard’s mental dialogue continued its meandering chain for a while, but being the capable woman she was, she eventually circled back to the original point.

“Practical estate management, huh…”

She had already gained some experience in that as a marchioness.

Of course, it had been in support of her husband. Hildegard had primarily devoted herself to household affairs. Organizing the wives of their vassals, hosting soirées and tea parties that even royalty attended.

Since her husband had several aides handling official duties, reviewing accounting ledgers with them had also been part of her responsibilities.

In short, she did everything. She’d essentially been a glorified administrative assistant with the title of “Lady.”

But collaborating with the steward, the butler, and her stepson Austin to manage the marquisate’s internal affairs had made for fulfilling days in its own way.

It was only natural that she kept recalling the life she’d left behind just yesterday. After all, barely half a day had passed since her arrival here.

“So, I’ll never return there again, will I?”

Hildegard mentally surveyed the marquisate’s affairs from a bird’s-eye view. Imagining herself as a bird in flight, she gazed out the classroom window and murmured aloud.

Her classmates, demonstrating the adaptability of youth, had already grown accustomed to Hildegard’s habit of muttering to herself by afternoon.

Heh… How strange. The moment I realize I can never return, I start feeling nostalgic. Even though it wasn’t exactly a life full of joy.

Now too, as she gazed out the window while reciting poetry in a clear, resonant voice, none of her classmates found it particularly odd.

“I mustn’t lose sight of my purpose.”

Sentimental as she was, Hildegard quickly reminded herself.

She had been the one to wish for death.

When she considered all the things left undone in her previous life, she had found no reason to keep living.

All of Hildegard’s regrets belonged to the past. By definition, regrets couldn’t pertain to the future but after mourning her husband, she had reflected on her own life.

“A life filled with shame…” or something like that.

An Eastern literary master had written something along those lines in his works—what was it called again? No Longer Human, perhaps?

Caught up in her melancholy, Hildegard began viewing everything through a literary lens.

Before she realized it, her hands had stopped packing up her desk as she stared out the window.

“This won’t do. I must be going.”

Most of her classmates had already left. The carriage from her family home was probably waiting by now.

“My place isn’t there anymore. Lauren, wait for me. Your sister is coming home to you right now.”

“Quite the declaration. You sound awfully determined just to go home.”

“My, Atrey. You’re still here?”

Atrey stood nearby holding his bag. She hadn’t noticed when he arrived.

“Yeah, I was about to leave when I saw you packing up with such intensity, then you started reciting something. Couldn’t just walk away.”

Perhaps sensing something amiss in Hildegard’s demeanor, Atrey had been observing her carefully.

“Let’s go.”

By the time they stepped into the hallway side by side, the classroom stood empty.

“Hey, Hildegard.”

“Yes, Atrey?”

“Think you could try being a little quieter during class?”

“Excuse me?”

Hildegard stopped walking at Atrey’s words.

“Wait, I’m not picking a fight, sorry. Come on, let’s go.”

Though Hildegard had been ready to take up the implied challenge with gusto, Atrey offered a quick apology before urging her forward with a “Come on.”

“You’ve been talking nonstop.”

“Have I really?”

“Yeah. Nothing major, but like ‘I understand, I understand,’ nodding really big, then ‘Ah yes, indeed, indeed,’ while taking notes.”

Unaware of her own habit of talking to herself, Hildegard didn’t realize she’d been verbally responding to every point the teacher made.

Back at the marquisate, both the steward and butler were elderly and prone to muttering constantly, so such behavior had been perfectly normal. And Austin had been lively enough to keep up with her rapid-fire conversations.

“People have started calling you something, you know.”

“My, a nickname?”

“The Nodding Lady.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Because you kept vigorously nodding along to the teacher’s explanations?”

“Well! How utterly rude. That’s simply common courtesy. When receiving such valuable instruction, remaining expressionless would be the mark of questionable character!”

With that, Hildegard produced a fan to hide her mouth, expressing her displeasure with all the dignity of a marchioness.

Atrey, having been magnificently put in his place by the battle-hardened noblewoman, looked slightly teary-eyed.

“My apologies.”

“Apology accepted. Do be more mindful in future.”

“……”

With a forty-one-year-old soul residing in a sixteen-year-old body, Hildegard found that handling a school full of mere children was child’s play something she could do with her eyes closed.