Episode 29. Martha, Martha.
Martha had a dream. It was a warm, old dream. She couldn't tell where it was. There was just light. It was yellow light. The kind of light that emanated from an old house. In that light, someone called out to Martha.
"Martha."
The voice was low and warm.
"Martha."
As she listened to that voice, Martha thought.
"Mother."
She knew whose voice it was. Her body knew first. It was her mother. The one who had passed away long ago. The one Martha had rushed to only on her last day after living a busy life as a lady-in-waiting, and who had closed her eyes as the dead of night passed.
"Martha. Martha."
The voice kept calling. Martha tried to walk toward the voice. The light seemed to be drawing closer. It felt like she would reach it if she just went a little further. But...
"Martha."
The voice had changed. It wasn't her mother's voice. It was a voice lighter and younger than what one would expect from her mother.
Martha opened her eyes. She saw the ceiling. It was the ceiling of the bedroom in the Valois mansion. It was a familiar ceiling. Morning light was streaming in through the gap in the curtains outside the window. Martha gazed at the ceiling for a moment, trying to sort out the dream.
It was her mother's voice. It was a memory from long ago. Her head felt a little heavy. It was because of the alcohol from last night.
Fragments of what had happened at Falken Company yesterday came to mind. Lighting the cognac. The pineapple glass. Julius fainting. Stumbling in the carriage. Leon's hand. And. Martha. The name was heard again.
Martha turned her head. Lucy was sitting on the chair beside the bed, dozing off. It seemed she had been by her side all night. With her head tilted slightly forward and her mouth slightly open, she was sleeping, and she was muttering.
"Martha."
Martha looked at Lucy. Lucy was muttering in her dream. How could Lucy know that name? Martha watched for a moment, then shook Lucy, who was half-asleep, awake.
"Lucy."
Lucy woke up with a start.
"Yes, yes! Princess!"
She rubbed her eyes and sprang up.
"What did you just say?"
Lucy said, blinking.
"Yes?"
"You were muttering in your sleep."
Lucy looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking.
"I had a dream. I don't know what it was about."
"You said 'Martha.' Where did you hear that name?"
Lucy looked at Martha and answered.
"Last night."
Martha looked at Lucy. Lucy spoke cautiously.
"You held Prince Leon's cheeks, and you said, 'Bravo, Martha Life."
Martha froze. Lucy spoke even more cautiously.
"You said 'Bravo, Martha Life.' I definitely heard it, but since you were heavily intoxicated, I tried to let it slide, though it seems to have appeared in my dream as well."
Martha looked at Lucy. Lucy said.
"Who is Martha?"
Martha looked at Lucy for a moment and said.
"I don't know either."
Lucy looked as if she couldn't accept that answer, but she didn't ask any further.
"I'll soothe your stomach."
Lucy went out and returned a short while later. She was holding a warm teacup. It was a light yellow tea.
"It's warm tea with acacia honey. They say it's good for the stomach."
Martha took it and took a sip. It was sweet and warm. Lucy said.
"Rest. You can take your time with breakfast."
Then she left the room. Martha cupped her warm tea in both hands and looked out the window. The morning light had settled on the garden. She could see the lavender flowerbeds. It was a time when the gardener, Bruno, had not yet come out.
Looking at the scenery, Martha thought. She had heard her mother's voice in her dream. And Lucy had mumbled, "Martha."
Bravo, Martha Life. So that phrase came out last night. The alcohol made her mouth feel light. Thinking about that, Martha took another sip of tea. She didn't know if Lucy had noticed or not. Probably not. She probably wouldn't know what "Martha Life" meant.
But.
Martha thought as she set down her teacup. What day is it today? She thought for a moment.
Imperial Year 614.
614. Martha rolled the number around in her head. She had died in Imperial Year 650. Serena was about fifty-five at the time. Serena is nineteen now. Subtracting 36 from 650, she must have been around the age of 44. The moment that thought crossed her mind, Martha stopped her hand as she set down her teacup.
Forty-four. Somewhere right now, a Martha, not the forty-four-year-old me, might be living. And. Suddenly, the date of the month and day became important.
Martha stood up and opened the drawer. There was a calendar. She checked the date. July 1, Imperial Year 614.
Martha stopped as she looked at it.
July 1. Something caught her. This date was definitely connected to something. There was something stuck somewhere in her memory. Martha tried to grasp it. What was it? What happened on this date? She couldn't quite make sense of it. Her head still felt a bit heavy.
As she put down the calendar, Martha began to change her clothes, harboring a nagging feeling of unease. There was something. Definitely.
She went down for breakfast. Claude, Isabella, and Edward were already seated in the dining room. As Martha took her seat, she looked around. It was strange. It was different from usual. It felt as though something was missing. The dining room was quiet. No, the entire mansion was silent.
Helena had brought the food, but the ladies-in-waiting who usually helped were gone. There were no footsteps in the hallway. Maxim was nowhere to be seen; either Martha looked at Lucy.
"Where did everyone go today?"
Edward said, tearing apart some bread.
"It's Liberty Day today."
Martha looked at Edward.
"Liberty Day."
"It's a day off for everyone below the nobility. Only a few people remain, like Miss Helena, Lord Maxım, and Mr. Karl. Most went home."
As she listened, Martha thought. Liberty Day. July 1st. The Day of Freedom.
July 1st, 614.
And then a memory came back. It was before the regression, when Martha was forty-four years old. It was a time when Serena was practically unable to get out of bed. It was a time when she had practically stopped eating and drinking, suffering from all sorts of minor illnesses and mental anguish following the broken engagement.
Martha nursed Serena by her side every day. She forced her to eat. She prepared her medicine. If Serena couldn't sleep at night, she sat beside her.
Today, July 1st, was the Day of Freedom. It was a day off for most of the ladies-in-waiting and servants at the mansion. Only a few, including Martha, remained to guard the mansion and look after Serena.
It was a quiet day. There were fewer footsteps than usual. She sat quietly in front of Serena's room, knitting. Just then, a junior lady-in-waiting came running. Gasping for breath.
"Ms. Martha, someone is at the front gate."
Martha went out to look. A familiar face was standing at the gate. It was Rene. A friend from her hometown. She was two years older than Martha and had grown up with her in the same village since childhood. She was married and remained in their hometown.
Although they hadn't seen each other often since Martha entered the Imperial Palace, they were old friends. Rene looked at Martha and spoke.
"Martha."
Her voice was heavy. Just by hearing that voice, Martha knew. It was not good news.
"Mother is critically ill."
Martha could not say a word as she heard those words.
"She has been very ill for a few days, but I couldn't get in touch with you. That is why I came all the way here."
Martha asked Duke Claude for permission. The Duke told her to go. Martha hurriedly packed her bags and went down to her hometown with Rene. Her father had passed away long ago, and her brother had become a scoundrel, so she didn't even know where he was. Only then did Martha realize that her widowed mother was lying alone in her sickbed, enduring difficult days. She had cried so much. And in the dead of night, as the day of Liberty transitioned into the next, her mother closed her eyes. Holding Martha's hand.
"Martha, be happy."
That was the last thing she said. That was today, before the regression.
Martha looked at the table. The soup on the table was cooling. And Martha's heart grew as anxious as the time it took for the soup to cool. Isabella watched Martha intently.
"Serena, what's wrong? Your face..."
"Mother."
"Yes?"
"May I go out for a moment after dinner?"
Isabella looked at Martha. Claude and Edward looked at Martha as well.
"It seems like something urgent has come up."
Claude said.
"Where?"
Martha chose her words for a moment before speaking.
"There is something I need to check."
She did not explain further. She could see that Claude was trying to read her gaze. Martha waited for Claude's answer while receiving that stare. At this very moment, he should have been furious enough to unleash a stern reprimand for coming home drunk yesterday and making a fool of herself.
Claude, sensing that Martha would not answer any further questions, ended the conversation with a single word.
"Go."
Edward spoke from the side.
"Are you going alone?"
"I'll take Lucy."
"What about the carriage?"
"I'll use it."
Edward looked at Martha. He was about to ask something but decided against it. As Martha left the dining room, she called out to Lucy.
"Lucy."
Lucy ran over.
"Yes."
"We're leaving right now. Get ready."
Lucy looked at Martha's expression and nodded. She didn't ask anything. They boarded the carriage. Lucy sat beside her and said.
"Where are we going?"
Martha replied.
"To a village."
"A village? Why there all of a sudden?"
Martha said, looking out the window.
"There is something I need to check."
"What?"
Martha thought for a moment before speaking.
"I'm going to check on Martha."
Lucy looked at Martha. Then, she asked no more questions.
Martha looked out the window and thought. Is there a Martha somewhere right now who isn't me? If she isn't here, wouldn't she be in her hometown? With Mother. Mother might not be sick. And today was Freedom Day.
In the memories from before the regression, the day Rene visited. Then, is Mother critically ill now? Is she still alive?
Martha closed her eyes, thinking these thoughts. The carriage sped along. Lucy sat quietly beside her. She didn't ask anything. She was grateful for that.
The carriage left the streets of the Imperial Palace and began heading toward the outskirts. Martha looked out the window and thought. Mother, you must stay alive.
And another thought crossed her mind. If the Martha of those days were here, what kind of face would she have?
The carriage sped on. The July sunlight streamed in through the window. It wasn't hot, but warm. Martha closed her eyes, soaking in that warmth. Her mother's voice, which she had heard in her dream, came back to mind.
Martha. Martha.
Martha was heading toward that voice.
[Lucy's Secret Shock Journal Chapter 29]
Today was a strange day.
Shock No. 1: When the Princess woke up this morning, she heard me muttering "Martha" in my sleep. I told her that last night, the Princess grabbed Duke Leon's cheeks and said, "Bravo, Martha Life!" The Princess froze.
Shock No. 2: When I asked who Martha was, she said, "I don't know either." That remark strangely weighed on my mind. She said she didn't know, but her eyes looked like she did.
Shock No 3. During breakfast, she suddenly said she was going to her hometown. The Young Master told her to go. Young Master Edward was about to ask something but didn't.
Shock No. 4. In the carriage, she said, "I am going to check on Martha." The Princess's expression was different today. It was a worried look. No. To be precise, she looked anxious. It seems she is going to verify something important.
What on earth is Martha? Is she a person?
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