He no longer considered himself worthy of swearing his loyalty to Rosemary. He’d done so in the past and failed to save her. Saying those thoughts aloud would only sadden her. Even so, her first words being ones of gratitude put a faint smile on his lips.
“But why are you here now, Lady Rosemary?” Albert asked.
He didn’t know how to interpret the current situation.
Still smiling calmly, Rosemary picked up a hand mirror she’d used during her life. Gazing at Mary’s reflection, she tucked her hair behind her ear.
“As soon as I died, I reincarnated as Mary,” she explained. “I’ve grown up with her this whole time.”
Formlessly, Rosemary had resided alongside Mary’s soul since her first cries as a babe.
“I’ve been with her since she first walked, since she first had a fight with a friend,” Rosemary continued. “I’ve watched everything alongside her, like a best friend and a mother. It’s strange… Though Mary and I are one, we are also separate.”
Reincarnating and living a new life dazzled Rosemary. Though she loved and treasured Mary, she also envied her. Mary had fulfilled so many of Rosemary’s lifelong wishes.
“Just as Mary possesses my memories, I also possess hers, I suppose?” Rosemary went on. “When she learned of your and Reynaldo’s vengeance, she called out to me over and over again. ‘Please save them,’ she begged me. Honestly, I never anticipated being able to speak out in the open like that.”
A wave of nostalgia crashed over Albert upon seeing Rosemary’s slightly mischievous smile. As a young girl, she’d sometimes wear that expression.
“This time, I feel a bit like meddling,” she admitted. “That’s why I’m talking to you.”
Albert couldn’t imagine her—the former daughter of a marquis—acting in such a way. “Meddling?” he repeated.
“That’s right. For the sake of my beloved Mary, I’m sticking my nose in your business, just like Reynaldo.” Rosemary folded her hands as if to envelop her two selves. She looked at Albert, her eyes still appearing jade green to him. “Tell me the truth. Who do you love—me or Mary?”
“What?”
Her words reminded Albert of his conversation with Reynaldo. Both brother and sister asked him the same question. However, when Rosemary sought the truth from him, her words carried greater weight. Though she was asking about mundane, romantic matters, the gravity of her words exerted physical pressure on him.
“Are you my knight or Mary’s knight?” Rosemary pressed. “And did you swear your loyalty to her because we’re the same person?”
Indeed, he had done that.
“Well…” Albert trailed off.
“I was also listening when you proposed to her,” Rosemary noted.
“Say what?!”
The idea of Rosemary witnessing his disgrace caused Albert’s expression to contort incomprehensibly. Was he blushing, or had the blood drained from his face? Either way, he longed to go back in time and erase that blunder from history.
“Do you truly love Mary? Can you truly make her happy? If you see even the slightest shadow of my ghost in her, that will bring her nothing but misery.” Rosemary lifted her head and looked at Albert. “And if you can’t make Mary happy, please leave her alone.”
Her words were sharp, and her gaze bore into him, seeking the truth. Albert deliberated over how to respond. Platitudes were meaningless here. A clever woman like Rosemary would see through even the whitest of lies. Though he had no intention of lying, could he provide an answer without arriving at a conclusion?
Even so, I have to say something. If I don’t speak up now, I might lose the opportunity to ever do so again.
That terrified him more than anything.
“My allegiance shall always lie with only one person. If I must answer your question…” After taking a deep breath, Albert looked at Rosemary once more. “I swear my loyalty to you, Lady Rosemary, and only you.”
Albert hadn’t meant to lie when swearing his oath to Mary, but he wouldn’t have done so without knowledge of her true identity. Because Mary inherited the soul of his former liege, Albert thought it proper to swear his loyalty to her again.
“Yet, right now, Mary is the woman I truly wish to protect,” Albert continued. “She’s the one I wish to love.”
Albert no longer knew if he’d been drawn to Mary because of her connection to his first love. However, Mary now stood by his side, and he loved her. He knew that much, at least.
Rosemary smiled drolly upon hearing Albert’s answer. Seeing her expressions change so rapidly was novel. She was more affable than during her previous life, perhaps due to Mary’s influence. Albert liked how Mary’s expressions changed from one moment to another.
“As a knight, I’ve sworn my loyalty only to you, Lady Rosemary,” he said. “That hasn’t changed, even now. However, as a man, I wish to protect the woman I love. Please allow me this.”
That said, I’m not sure if I can make Mary happy.
“You asked if I could make Mary happy,” Albert continued, voicing his thoughts aloud. “I can’t answer that question so long as I don’t know what brings her joy. Yet, if her happiness is the same as mine, I will do everything in my power to grant her wishes.”
Mary always seemed satisfied. Albert never saw her act out of a desire for personal fulfillment. Nevertheless, the opinions of others didn’t sway her. Rather, she acted for the sake of others of her own will. She put herself on the line for Rosemary, Reynaldo, and even Albert. She was a kindhearted woman who loved her family, everything Rosemary had once treasured, and even Rosemary herself. In turn, Albert loved everything about her.
“Lady Rosemary,” he said. “In answer to your previous question…”
Albert stared into Rosemary’s depths, where her present self now slept. If Mary’s recent worries and Rosemary’s decision to appear of her own volition had the same root cause, Albert wanted to alleviate her anxieties.
“Would you still be able to love Mary even if she lost Rosemary’s memories?” Reynaldo had asked.
“Who do you love—me or Mary?” Rosemary had asked.
Albert had but one answer.
“I love Mary because she treasures every single one of your memories as well,” Albert said. “Does that serve as an answer?”
Once he stated his conclusion, Rosemary burst out laughing.
“Lady Rosemary?” he asked, looking at her curiously.
Rosemary giggled. “Apparently, that was the right answer,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with delight.
“Huh?”
Albert had never worn such an idiotic expression in his entire life.
“I’m sorry for tricking you,” Rosemary apologized. “Mary is listening to you through me. The two of us are one, after all.”
Later, a thought would occur to Albert.
At that moment, she couldn’t have been more like her brother.