Laura, too, didn't openly admit her dislike for Lisa. She only teased her slightly, out of sight, enough to make even the victim wonder, "Am I being too sensitive?"
Whenever Lisa expresses an opinion, she refutes it and presents a different opinion, and pressures Aila into following her opinion.
“How about this hair ornament? I think it suits you very well, young lady...”
“No, miss. This suits your outfit better.”
Even now, it was the same. Even when it was just a simple matter of choosing what clothes Aila would wear, Laura would always disagree with Lisa on every single matter, glaring at Aila with a fierce glare and forcing her to follow her lead.
“...You are such a beauty, you will look cute no matter what you wear.”
Lisa opened her mouth, smiling awkwardly and feeling embarrassed. She seemed to be trying not to show it, but it seemed she was still frustrated by the constant opposition to her opinions.
'Lisa...'
Aila bit her lower lip as she looked at Lisa's sullen face.
It was the same before the regression. Laura always used Aila to suppress and restrain Lisa's spirit.
Looking back now, it was a childish act that was blatantly obvious. But back then, Aila had no choice but to follow Laura's advice, even though she didn't understand why Laura was constantly at odds with Lisa.
And it was the same now. For now, she had to give Laura and Byron, who were watching from behind, the sense that things were going well.
'...Honestly, I don't like the hairpin Laura chose.'
Laura wasn't wrong. The simple hairpin with the large sapphire she'd chosen complemented the dress she was wearing.
The dress itself was Laura's choice. From head to toe, it was in Byron's favorite style—one that Ophelia often wore.
It wasn't a bad thing to resemble her mother, and the clothes themselves were quite pretty, but she seemed a little mature for her age.
Of course, that wasn't the reason Aila was reluctant to wear the hairpin Laura had chosen. She simply didn't want to wear the style Byron favored.
And the hairpin Lisa chose was, in contrast to the one Laura chose, a flashy style with lots of frills and lace.
Whatever her mental age, it was a style that suited a girl of Aila's age, who was now fourteen.
“Which one would you like, Miss?”
Laura asked, tightening her grip on Aila's shoulder. It was a physical pressure, an urgency to force her to agree with her choice.
"I am..."
Just as Aila was about to open her mouth.
There was a knock on the door, then it opened, and Ophelia came into the room.
"Aila, aren't you done yet? Your uncle will be arriving soon..."
“Oh, Mom! Now I just need to choose a hairstyle.”
At the appearance of a happy face, Aila smiled brightly and greeted her mother.
Ophelia looked at the hair ornaments the two maids were holding, then picked up the gorgeous pink hair ornament Lisa was holding and placed it on Aila's head.
“It’s a special day, so I think it would be okay to add some highlights to your hair.”
At Ophelia's words, Lisa's cheeks quickly flushed with joy, and Laura, unable to bring herself to frown in front of the Duchess, put down the hairpin she had chosen with a bitter smile.
And Aila felt a strange pleasure, and the corners of her lips slightly raised. She felt childish for being so happy about this, but she couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.
“Our daughter is pretty. Come on, let’s go.”
Ophelia, who had neatly tidied Aila's hair, held out her hand and said.
“Yes, Mother.”
Aila smiled shyly and took her hand tightly.
It had been quite some time since she returned to her parents, but it was still unbelievable to be able to hold her mother's hand like this.
Ophelia, who was leaving the room in step with her daughter, stopped for a moment as if remembering something and looked back at her.
“Happy birthday again, Aila.”
Yes, today was Aila's fourteenth birthday.
Even though it was her birthday, she hadn't invited any special guests or anything and had only planned to have a simple dinner with Ophelia's family, who were arriving today.
“...You said that this morning, too.”
"But I wanted to say it again. It feels like a dream to be able to celebrate our daughter's birthday."
Ophelia spoke with a girlish, pure smile. It was a smile that was truly filled with happiness.
It was a moment that confirmed once again that just as Aila was happy with her daily life with her parents, her parents also felt the same way.
As Aila went out to greet the guests, holding hands affectionately with her mother, her father was already out there waiting.
He had his hair neatly slicked back, as if he had used several times more force than usual, and was dressed in a stylish uniform. He also had a look of extreme tension on his face.
Even when meeting the Emperor, or even when going into battle where his life was at stake, the knights had never seen Roderick so tense before, so they glanced at him with bewildered expressions.
“Relax, Roderick.”
Ophelia patted his back as she watched her husband's frozen figure.
It had been so long since Isidore had opposed their marriage that she couldn't understand why he was still so nervous.
Last time her family came to visit, he and Isidore had a drink together and even became close.
But it was inevitable for Roderick. Ophelia's father had passed away early, and Isidore, who was eight years younger than her, was practically a father-in-law to him.
Although Roderick was now accepted as his sister's companion, he still couldn't completely forget the look Isidore had given him when they had met a few years ago.
Those eyes that looked like they were looking at a thief who had stolen something precious...
Of course, as a father with a daughter, she could understand that feeling.
Even he, too, would imagine that in the distant future, Aila would marry someone, and he would feel anger towards that 'someone' whose face he didn't even know.
Roderick grinned, trying to say something, but missed his chance. He heard the clatter of hooves and the clatter of wheels in the distance.
“Oh, I guess we’ve arrived.”
Perhaps thrilled by the prospect of seeing her nieces and nephews for the first time in a long time, Ophelia looked toward the source of the sound with a slightly excited expression. Then, when her eyes met her daughter's, she smiled and squeezed Aila's hand tighter.
Somehow, it seemed like her mother's excitement and joy were being transmitted from her fingertips.
And then, after a while, a large, ornate carriage pulled up in front of the mansion. It was a luxurious carriage, sent by Roderick to welcome Ophelia's family.
The carriage opened, and the first to step out was Isidore Hailing, Aila's uncle. He looked both vaguely like Ophelia and utterly unlike her.
The arrangement of the purple eyes and facial features was quite similar, but the hair color was closer to light blonde than silver, which was a slight difference from Ophelia.
But above all, the most striking difference was... the atmosphere. Isidore had a very strict and cold impression.
“...Welcome, Brother.”
Ophelia smiled warmly and welcomed her brother, whom she hadn't seen in years, while Roderick greeted him politely. Still nervous, his voice crackled inexplicably.
But Isidore's gaze turned away from his sister and her husband. He was looking at Aila, who was still clutching Ophelia's hand.
Her cold-faced uncle stared at her with an appraising gaze. It might have been a little scary, but Aila didn't think so at all.
It was only for a short time, but she had met Isidore once before the regression.
“You must be Aila.”
“...Hello, uncle.”
As Aila, though hesitant, held onto the hem of her skirt and greeted him in a rather convincing manner, a faint smile appeared on her uncle's cold face.
“You look just like your mother when she was young. Nice to meet you.”
It was a smile that resembled Ophelia's smile, and it warmed even the cold autumn air surrounding her.
And this was why Aila was not at all afraid of her uncle's seemingly heartless appearance.
Even in her previous life, Isidore had smiled at his nephew like this.
As Aila was greeting her uncle with a shy smile, a loud noise began to be heard inside the carriage.
Isidore's two daughters got out of the carriage, escorted by a knight.
“Ugh, it’s so stuffy.”
A woman with long, silver hair, very similar to Aila's, stretched her arms and groaned, her body heaving and aching from the long carriage ride.
And next to her, a woman with the same silver hair cut into a perfectly short bob was looking at her older sister with contempt.
The one with long hair was Isidore's eldest daughter, Rachel, and the one with short hair was the second daughter, Michelle.
“Rachel, Michelle. You need to say hello to your aunt and uncle.”
Isidore scolded his daughters in a stern voice, wondering why his grown daughters were now less polite than his fourteen-year-old niece.
Rachel greeted her father cheerfully, telling her to come to her senses after being scolded by him, and Michelle again looked at her sister coldly and greeted them with perfect etiquette.
Although their faces and figures were so similar that they could be considered twins, they were sisters of the same age with very different personalities.
Whenever Lisa expresses an opinion, she refutes it and presents a different opinion, and pressures Aila into following her opinion.
“How about this hair ornament? I think it suits you very well, young lady...”
“No, miss. This suits your outfit better.”
Even now, it was the same. Even when it was just a simple matter of choosing what clothes Aila would wear, Laura would always disagree with Lisa on every single matter, glaring at Aila with a fierce glare and forcing her to follow her lead.
“...You are such a beauty, you will look cute no matter what you wear.”
Lisa opened her mouth, smiling awkwardly and feeling embarrassed. She seemed to be trying not to show it, but it seemed she was still frustrated by the constant opposition to her opinions.
'Lisa...'
Aila bit her lower lip as she looked at Lisa's sullen face.
It was the same before the regression. Laura always used Aila to suppress and restrain Lisa's spirit.
Looking back now, it was a childish act that was blatantly obvious. But back then, Aila had no choice but to follow Laura's advice, even though she didn't understand why Laura was constantly at odds with Lisa.
And it was the same now. For now, she had to give Laura and Byron, who were watching from behind, the sense that things were going well.
'...Honestly, I don't like the hairpin Laura chose.'
Laura wasn't wrong. The simple hairpin with the large sapphire she'd chosen complemented the dress she was wearing.
The dress itself was Laura's choice. From head to toe, it was in Byron's favorite style—one that Ophelia often wore.
It wasn't a bad thing to resemble her mother, and the clothes themselves were quite pretty, but she seemed a little mature for her age.
Of course, that wasn't the reason Aila was reluctant to wear the hairpin Laura had chosen. She simply didn't want to wear the style Byron favored.
And the hairpin Lisa chose was, in contrast to the one Laura chose, a flashy style with lots of frills and lace.
Whatever her mental age, it was a style that suited a girl of Aila's age, who was now fourteen.
“Which one would you like, Miss?”
Laura asked, tightening her grip on Aila's shoulder. It was a physical pressure, an urgency to force her to agree with her choice.
"I am..."
Just as Aila was about to open her mouth.
There was a knock on the door, then it opened, and Ophelia came into the room.
"Aila, aren't you done yet? Your uncle will be arriving soon..."
“Oh, Mom! Now I just need to choose a hairstyle.”
At the appearance of a happy face, Aila smiled brightly and greeted her mother.
Ophelia looked at the hair ornaments the two maids were holding, then picked up the gorgeous pink hair ornament Lisa was holding and placed it on Aila's head.
“It’s a special day, so I think it would be okay to add some highlights to your hair.”
At Ophelia's words, Lisa's cheeks quickly flushed with joy, and Laura, unable to bring herself to frown in front of the Duchess, put down the hairpin she had chosen with a bitter smile.
And Aila felt a strange pleasure, and the corners of her lips slightly raised. She felt childish for being so happy about this, but she couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.
“Our daughter is pretty. Come on, let’s go.”
Ophelia, who had neatly tidied Aila's hair, held out her hand and said.
“Yes, Mother.”
Aila smiled shyly and took her hand tightly.
It had been quite some time since she returned to her parents, but it was still unbelievable to be able to hold her mother's hand like this.
Ophelia, who was leaving the room in step with her daughter, stopped for a moment as if remembering something and looked back at her.
“Happy birthday again, Aila.”
Yes, today was Aila's fourteenth birthday.
Even though it was her birthday, she hadn't invited any special guests or anything and had only planned to have a simple dinner with Ophelia's family, who were arriving today.
“...You said that this morning, too.”
"But I wanted to say it again. It feels like a dream to be able to celebrate our daughter's birthday."
Ophelia spoke with a girlish, pure smile. It was a smile that was truly filled with happiness.
It was a moment that confirmed once again that just as Aila was happy with her daily life with her parents, her parents also felt the same way.
***
As Aila went out to greet the guests, holding hands affectionately with her mother, her father was already out there waiting.
He had his hair neatly slicked back, as if he had used several times more force than usual, and was dressed in a stylish uniform. He also had a look of extreme tension on his face.
Even when meeting the Emperor, or even when going into battle where his life was at stake, the knights had never seen Roderick so tense before, so they glanced at him with bewildered expressions.
“Relax, Roderick.”
Ophelia patted his back as she watched her husband's frozen figure.
It had been so long since Isidore had opposed their marriage that she couldn't understand why he was still so nervous.
Last time her family came to visit, he and Isidore had a drink together and even became close.
But it was inevitable for Roderick. Ophelia's father had passed away early, and Isidore, who was eight years younger than her, was practically a father-in-law to him.
Although Roderick was now accepted as his sister's companion, he still couldn't completely forget the look Isidore had given him when they had met a few years ago.
Those eyes that looked like they were looking at a thief who had stolen something precious...
Of course, as a father with a daughter, she could understand that feeling.
Even he, too, would imagine that in the distant future, Aila would marry someone, and he would feel anger towards that 'someone' whose face he didn't even know.
Roderick grinned, trying to say something, but missed his chance. He heard the clatter of hooves and the clatter of wheels in the distance.
“Oh, I guess we’ve arrived.”
Perhaps thrilled by the prospect of seeing her nieces and nephews for the first time in a long time, Ophelia looked toward the source of the sound with a slightly excited expression. Then, when her eyes met her daughter's, she smiled and squeezed Aila's hand tighter.
Somehow, it seemed like her mother's excitement and joy were being transmitted from her fingertips.
And then, after a while, a large, ornate carriage pulled up in front of the mansion. It was a luxurious carriage, sent by Roderick to welcome Ophelia's family.
The carriage opened, and the first to step out was Isidore Hailing, Aila's uncle. He looked both vaguely like Ophelia and utterly unlike her.
The arrangement of the purple eyes and facial features was quite similar, but the hair color was closer to light blonde than silver, which was a slight difference from Ophelia.
But above all, the most striking difference was... the atmosphere. Isidore had a very strict and cold impression.
“...Welcome, Brother.”
Ophelia smiled warmly and welcomed her brother, whom she hadn't seen in years, while Roderick greeted him politely. Still nervous, his voice crackled inexplicably.
But Isidore's gaze turned away from his sister and her husband. He was looking at Aila, who was still clutching Ophelia's hand.
Her cold-faced uncle stared at her with an appraising gaze. It might have been a little scary, but Aila didn't think so at all.
It was only for a short time, but she had met Isidore once before the regression.
“You must be Aila.”
“...Hello, uncle.”
As Aila, though hesitant, held onto the hem of her skirt and greeted him in a rather convincing manner, a faint smile appeared on her uncle's cold face.
“You look just like your mother when she was young. Nice to meet you.”
It was a smile that resembled Ophelia's smile, and it warmed even the cold autumn air surrounding her.
And this was why Aila was not at all afraid of her uncle's seemingly heartless appearance.
Even in her previous life, Isidore had smiled at his nephew like this.
As Aila was greeting her uncle with a shy smile, a loud noise began to be heard inside the carriage.
Isidore's two daughters got out of the carriage, escorted by a knight.
“Ugh, it’s so stuffy.”
A woman with long, silver hair, very similar to Aila's, stretched her arms and groaned, her body heaving and aching from the long carriage ride.
And next to her, a woman with the same silver hair cut into a perfectly short bob was looking at her older sister with contempt.
The one with long hair was Isidore's eldest daughter, Rachel, and the one with short hair was the second daughter, Michelle.
“Rachel, Michelle. You need to say hello to your aunt and uncle.”
Isidore scolded his daughters in a stern voice, wondering why his grown daughters were now less polite than his fourteen-year-old niece.
Rachel greeted her father cheerfully, telling her to come to her senses after being scolded by him, and Michelle again looked at her sister coldly and greeted them with perfect etiquette.
Although their faces and figures were so similar that they could be considered twins, they were sisters of the same age with very different personalities.
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