“Are you nervous by any chance?”
As she looked out the window with a solemn expression on her face, Roderick, misunderstanding her expression, asked in a soft voice.
“You may be nervous because this is an unfamiliar place, but I hope you feel at ease because this is your home.”
The tone of voice he used to speak was very cautious.
He wanted Aila to feel at ease now that she was home, but he thought that was just his perspective and that his daughter might think differently.
Of course, the person involved wasn't nervous at all, and it wasn't even an unfamiliar place.
‘...I can’t even talk about my past life.’
Aila smiled awkwardly, unable to worry her father, whom she hadn't seen in a long time.
“No, Dad. I’m not nervous. I just... like it.”
It wasn't a lie. Everything was so good it felt like a dream.
The fact that her biological father, whom she killed with her own hands, was alive before her eyes, and that she would soon be able to meet her mother, whom she had longed for.
It was also nice to be able to see her younger brother, whom she had never seen before because he was not born in her previous life.
“Yeah, that’s fortunate.”
Roderick, who had reached out to stroke his daughter's head without thinking, saw her bright, shy smile, but stopped, worried that Aila might be uncomfortable.
Even in her past life, Roderick had always been like that. He cared for Aila, but he was also cautious, lest his affections become a burden to her.
The very comparison was a shameful thing for Roderick to make, but it was truly a comparison to that beast of a man who would reach out and touch Aila's hair without warning.
She reached out and grabbed her father's hand, which was frozen in midair. Then, carefully pulling it, she placed it against her head.
“...Thank you, Aila.”
Roderick, deeply moved by his daughter's actions, carefully stroked her head. The soft touch was pleasant, but the sensation also made his nose tingle.
The lost, irretrievable years seemed to weigh heavily on her heart.
And Aila closed her eyes and felt her biological father's warm hands.
It was a gentle and kind touch. It was filled with affection, not for someone else, but for herself.
No matter how much Aila loved her mother, becoming her mother's substitute was no easy feat. Especially if it stemmed from another man's obsession with Ophelia.
The carriage passed through the garden and stopped in front of the mansion.
Aila took a deep breath.
If she gets off this carriage, she can meet her mother.
Roderick, who got out of the carriage first, extended his hand to Aila with a slightly nervous expression.
She took his hand and took a step out of the carriage.
“...Aila.”
And there, with a determined expression, was Ophelia, waiting for her daughter. Along with numerous servants who sincerely welcomed her return.
Of course, there weren't only happy faces, and Laura, whom she didn't particularly want to see, was also present. But it wasn't a major problem enough to disrupt a sweet reunion with her mother.
Ophelia approached her daughter with trembling steps, as if she had just gotten out of the carriage.
It didn't feel real. That Aila was really right in front of her.
She wondered if it was a dream, if she reached out and it vanished like a mirage. She suddenly felt scared.
Ophelia felt tears welling up in her eyes from overwhelming joy, but she fought back. She wanted to show only her best side in front of her daughter, whom she hadn't seen in twelve years.
She smiled brightly and spread her arms wide, as if telling Aila to hurry and run into her mother's arms.
And Aila jumped into her arms without a moment's hesitation.
How she missed her mother, her warm embrace.
Ophelia's arms smelled wonderful. It was like the scent of fragrant flowers, or like the sweet scent of candy.
As if imprinted in her memory from long ago, her scent stimulated Aila's sense of smell, bringing a sense of relief and happiness: 'Ah, now she's really back.'
I'm happy, so happy I can't believe it... Strangely, her eyes are getting hot.
And Aila, instead of holding back her tears, just let them flow.
“Welcome back, Aila. It’s so nice to be back.”
Ophelia hugged her daughter even tighter as she burst into tears.
She had to hold it in, she tried to hold it in... In the end, a tear streamed down her face.
“...Mother, I missed you. I really, really missed you.”
Aila hugged her mother tightly around the waist and poured out her true feelings, word by word.
How long have I been waiting for this moment?
Although she still had revenge on Byron, she wanted to fully enjoy this moment.
“Me too, my daughter. I missed you so, so much.”
Does Aila know? What kind of hell did the mother who lost her daughter endure during those years?
Ophelia felt like she could finally breathe, like her heart was finally beating again.
The sight of the mother and daughter embracing each other and shedding tears brought tears to the eyes of those who saw them.
Except for Laura, the only one who can't really fit into this atmosphere.
‘...Why on earth do you do that?’
Laura frowned, pretending to wipe her tears with a handkerchief.
Of course, it wasn't that she couldn't understand Ophelia. Naturally, a mother was happy to have found her lost daughter. What she couldn't understand was not the mother, but the daughter.
It was natural for her to be happy to meet her biological mother, but the problem was that Aila had to not know that she was the real daughter of this family.
'Is that acting?'
The Aila she knew didn't have the personality to act so convincingly. She was timid, indifferent, and a bit clumsy to the point of being frustrating.
She's talking about a person with no brains, who finds it best to awkwardly accept her mother's hug while hesitating.
Whether Laura had such suspicions or not, mother and daughter were absorbed in sharing the joy of their reunion.
“Hmm, hmm, let’s go in. It’s gotten cold.”
Roderick, who had been watching his wife and daughter from a distance, spoke in a slightly hushed voice. He was worried that his loved ones might catch a cold in the cold autumn wind.
"Oh, right. Let's go in, Aila. I've been hastily decorating your room, and I hope you like it."
Ophelia took her daughter's hand and led her into the mansion.
When they parted ways, the baby's hand, which had been as small as a maple leaf, had grown so large that it was no different from her own, which somehow brought about a feeling of sadness.
Aila's hands were covered in calluses, unusual for a young girl, and this made her heart ache even more, as it showed how difficult her life had been.
“This way, Aila.”
Ophelia didn't let go of Aila's hand the whole time she was leading her to her room. She was afraid that if she did, Aila would disappear again.
Aila's room was in the same location as her previous life. It was a room with a beautiful view overlooking the Duke's garden.
The interior was quite elaborate, despite being hastily decorated. Furniture and accessories that a girl would enjoy were placed throughout.
This time, the butler must have done it again. Aila glanced at the butler, his gray hair neatly combed back. Perhaps because it was done by the same person, it didn't feel much different from her previous life.
“When did you get all dressed up like this, Ophelia? You must have been pressed for time.”
“Did I do it? I just gave the instructions, and Lester did everything.”
When Roderick, who was looking into the room from the doorway, asked with a slightly surprised voice, Ophelia, still holding Aila's hand tightly, turned the ball to the butler.
Lester, the old butler of the Weishaffen family, bowed his head with a humble expression, saying he had only done what he had to do.
"Ah, Aila. This is your butler, Lester. If you need anything in the future, just let Lester know."
“This is Lester Schaffner. Just give me your order, my lady.”
When Roderick introduced the butler, the older butler smiled kindly, his wrinkled eyes narrowing.
He was an old man who always brought peace to her heart, just like in her past life.
“Do you like your room, Aila?”
When her daughter, who had been looking around her room, remained silent, Ophelia, who was growing impatient, grabbed her hand and asked.
How could she not like it? This room was meticulously decorated by a veteran butler, filled with the owner's desire for a comfortable stay.
“I like it very much, Mother.”
“Yeah, that’s good.”
When Aila answered in a friendly manner, Ophelia finally seemed to feel relieved.
“Oh, by the way, I forgot to introduce Laura. This is Laura, your maid who will be serving you from now on.”
“Nice to meet you, Miss. I am Laura Spencer, your attendant.”
When Ophelia introduced Laura, as if suddenly reminded of her, Laura shamelessly grabbed her skirt and greeted her politely. Her demeanor was natural, as if they were meeting for the first time.
At the sight of that utterly disgusting sight, Aila awkwardly accepted her greeting, trying to suppress the disgust that was welling up in her.
“...Please take good care of me, Laura.”
After finishing her greetings with Laura, Ophelia opened her mouth with a very regretful voice.
“Well then... I’d like to hear the details of what happened, but you must be tired from coming a long way, so I guess I should let you rest first.”
What kind of life had she lived with Byron all this time? Why was the woman she was with found in the mountains of Herzig's territory? What was the story of the couple who were said to have been killed by bandits there?
There were many things she wanted to ask, but Ophelia felt bad about asking her daughter, who had come all day in an old carriage, such questions.
So, she could hear the story later.
They will have a lot of time left.
“Then get some rest.”
It was when Ophelia, who had just said hello, tried to let go of the hand she didn't want to let go of and was about to leave the room.
“Uh, Mother, Father.”
Aila carefully opened her mouth and called out to the couple.
As she looked out the window with a solemn expression on her face, Roderick, misunderstanding her expression, asked in a soft voice.
“You may be nervous because this is an unfamiliar place, but I hope you feel at ease because this is your home.”
The tone of voice he used to speak was very cautious.
He wanted Aila to feel at ease now that she was home, but he thought that was just his perspective and that his daughter might think differently.
Of course, the person involved wasn't nervous at all, and it wasn't even an unfamiliar place.
‘...I can’t even talk about my past life.’
Aila smiled awkwardly, unable to worry her father, whom she hadn't seen in a long time.
“No, Dad. I’m not nervous. I just... like it.”
It wasn't a lie. Everything was so good it felt like a dream.
The fact that her biological father, whom she killed with her own hands, was alive before her eyes, and that she would soon be able to meet her mother, whom she had longed for.
It was also nice to be able to see her younger brother, whom she had never seen before because he was not born in her previous life.
“Yeah, that’s fortunate.”
Roderick, who had reached out to stroke his daughter's head without thinking, saw her bright, shy smile, but stopped, worried that Aila might be uncomfortable.
Even in her past life, Roderick had always been like that. He cared for Aila, but he was also cautious, lest his affections become a burden to her.
The very comparison was a shameful thing for Roderick to make, but it was truly a comparison to that beast of a man who would reach out and touch Aila's hair without warning.
She reached out and grabbed her father's hand, which was frozen in midair. Then, carefully pulling it, she placed it against her head.
“...Thank you, Aila.”
Roderick, deeply moved by his daughter's actions, carefully stroked her head. The soft touch was pleasant, but the sensation also made his nose tingle.
The lost, irretrievable years seemed to weigh heavily on her heart.
And Aila closed her eyes and felt her biological father's warm hands.
It was a gentle and kind touch. It was filled with affection, not for someone else, but for herself.
No matter how much Aila loved her mother, becoming her mother's substitute was no easy feat. Especially if it stemmed from another man's obsession with Ophelia.
The carriage passed through the garden and stopped in front of the mansion.
Aila took a deep breath.
If she gets off this carriage, she can meet her mother.
Roderick, who got out of the carriage first, extended his hand to Aila with a slightly nervous expression.
She took his hand and took a step out of the carriage.
“...Aila.”
And there, with a determined expression, was Ophelia, waiting for her daughter. Along with numerous servants who sincerely welcomed her return.
Of course, there weren't only happy faces, and Laura, whom she didn't particularly want to see, was also present. But it wasn't a major problem enough to disrupt a sweet reunion with her mother.
Ophelia approached her daughter with trembling steps, as if she had just gotten out of the carriage.
It didn't feel real. That Aila was really right in front of her.
She wondered if it was a dream, if she reached out and it vanished like a mirage. She suddenly felt scared.
Ophelia felt tears welling up in her eyes from overwhelming joy, but she fought back. She wanted to show only her best side in front of her daughter, whom she hadn't seen in twelve years.
She smiled brightly and spread her arms wide, as if telling Aila to hurry and run into her mother's arms.
And Aila jumped into her arms without a moment's hesitation.
How she missed her mother, her warm embrace.
Ophelia's arms smelled wonderful. It was like the scent of fragrant flowers, or like the sweet scent of candy.
As if imprinted in her memory from long ago, her scent stimulated Aila's sense of smell, bringing a sense of relief and happiness: 'Ah, now she's really back.'
I'm happy, so happy I can't believe it... Strangely, her eyes are getting hot.
And Aila, instead of holding back her tears, just let them flow.
“Welcome back, Aila. It’s so nice to be back.”
Ophelia hugged her daughter even tighter as she burst into tears.
She had to hold it in, she tried to hold it in... In the end, a tear streamed down her face.
“...Mother, I missed you. I really, really missed you.”
Aila hugged her mother tightly around the waist and poured out her true feelings, word by word.
How long have I been waiting for this moment?
Although she still had revenge on Byron, she wanted to fully enjoy this moment.
“Me too, my daughter. I missed you so, so much.”
Does Aila know? What kind of hell did the mother who lost her daughter endure during those years?
Ophelia felt like she could finally breathe, like her heart was finally beating again.
The sight of the mother and daughter embracing each other and shedding tears brought tears to the eyes of those who saw them.
Except for Laura, the only one who can't really fit into this atmosphere.
‘...Why on earth do you do that?’
Laura frowned, pretending to wipe her tears with a handkerchief.
Of course, it wasn't that she couldn't understand Ophelia. Naturally, a mother was happy to have found her lost daughter. What she couldn't understand was not the mother, but the daughter.
It was natural for her to be happy to meet her biological mother, but the problem was that Aila had to not know that she was the real daughter of this family.
'Is that acting?'
The Aila she knew didn't have the personality to act so convincingly. She was timid, indifferent, and a bit clumsy to the point of being frustrating.
She's talking about a person with no brains, who finds it best to awkwardly accept her mother's hug while hesitating.
Whether Laura had such suspicions or not, mother and daughter were absorbed in sharing the joy of their reunion.
“Hmm, hmm, let’s go in. It’s gotten cold.”
Roderick, who had been watching his wife and daughter from a distance, spoke in a slightly hushed voice. He was worried that his loved ones might catch a cold in the cold autumn wind.
"Oh, right. Let's go in, Aila. I've been hastily decorating your room, and I hope you like it."
Ophelia took her daughter's hand and led her into the mansion.
When they parted ways, the baby's hand, which had been as small as a maple leaf, had grown so large that it was no different from her own, which somehow brought about a feeling of sadness.
Aila's hands were covered in calluses, unusual for a young girl, and this made her heart ache even more, as it showed how difficult her life had been.
“This way, Aila.”
Ophelia didn't let go of Aila's hand the whole time she was leading her to her room. She was afraid that if she did, Aila would disappear again.
Aila's room was in the same location as her previous life. It was a room with a beautiful view overlooking the Duke's garden.
The interior was quite elaborate, despite being hastily decorated. Furniture and accessories that a girl would enjoy were placed throughout.
This time, the butler must have done it again. Aila glanced at the butler, his gray hair neatly combed back. Perhaps because it was done by the same person, it didn't feel much different from her previous life.
“When did you get all dressed up like this, Ophelia? You must have been pressed for time.”
“Did I do it? I just gave the instructions, and Lester did everything.”
When Roderick, who was looking into the room from the doorway, asked with a slightly surprised voice, Ophelia, still holding Aila's hand tightly, turned the ball to the butler.
Lester, the old butler of the Weishaffen family, bowed his head with a humble expression, saying he had only done what he had to do.
"Ah, Aila. This is your butler, Lester. If you need anything in the future, just let Lester know."
“This is Lester Schaffner. Just give me your order, my lady.”
When Roderick introduced the butler, the older butler smiled kindly, his wrinkled eyes narrowing.
He was an old man who always brought peace to her heart, just like in her past life.
“Do you like your room, Aila?”
When her daughter, who had been looking around her room, remained silent, Ophelia, who was growing impatient, grabbed her hand and asked.
How could she not like it? This room was meticulously decorated by a veteran butler, filled with the owner's desire for a comfortable stay.
“I like it very much, Mother.”
“Yeah, that’s good.”
When Aila answered in a friendly manner, Ophelia finally seemed to feel relieved.
“Oh, by the way, I forgot to introduce Laura. This is Laura, your maid who will be serving you from now on.”
“Nice to meet you, Miss. I am Laura Spencer, your attendant.”
When Ophelia introduced Laura, as if suddenly reminded of her, Laura shamelessly grabbed her skirt and greeted her politely. Her demeanor was natural, as if they were meeting for the first time.
At the sight of that utterly disgusting sight, Aila awkwardly accepted her greeting, trying to suppress the disgust that was welling up in her.
“...Please take good care of me, Laura.”
After finishing her greetings with Laura, Ophelia opened her mouth with a very regretful voice.
“Well then... I’d like to hear the details of what happened, but you must be tired from coming a long way, so I guess I should let you rest first.”
What kind of life had she lived with Byron all this time? Why was the woman she was with found in the mountains of Herzig's territory? What was the story of the couple who were said to have been killed by bandits there?
There were many things she wanted to ask, but Ophelia felt bad about asking her daughter, who had come all day in an old carriage, such questions.
So, she could hear the story later.
They will have a lot of time left.
“Then get some rest.”
It was when Ophelia, who had just said hello, tried to let go of the hand she didn't want to let go of and was about to leave the room.
“Uh, Mother, Father.”
Aila carefully opened her mouth and called out to the couple.
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