“Do you still want to be your mother’s daughter in your next life, Mary?”
Albert and I stiffened at the words your next life.
“…What are you talking about?” I asked.
“You don’t remember, eh? A long time ago, you said, ‘I hope Mother is my mom again in my next life’.”
I couldn’t remember saying anything of the sort. Mother died when I was very young. Nevertheless, the gears in my mind turned at full speed to recall what I’d been thinking as a child. As I did so, Father spoke up first.
“If Miriam and I marry in our next life and we have you as our daughter again, nothing could make me happier.”
At first, I didn’t know how to respond. Eventually, however, I knew this was a good chance to speak my mind. “If I happened to be the reincarnation of a certain nobleman’s daughter, what would you think, Father…?”
“What’s this? A certain nobleman?” After thinking it over, Father laughed. “Ah, I see. You already knew courtly manners as a child because you were the daughter of a nobleman.”
In response to this carefree answer, Albert and I froze. Father was aware of me possibly being a reincarnation before I regained my memories. He was a difficult man to rattle, but all the same, I hadn’t expected him to understand this talk of past lives.
While Albert and I stood there dumbstruck, Father looked at us curiously. “Am I wrong? When you started acting like a highborn lady as a child, I was sure you must be someone’s reincarnation.”
“No, you’re right, but…you actually believe me?” I asked.
Normally, people would call a person crazy for making such a claim. Reincarnation sounded like something out of a fairy tale, and there was no historical precedent for it. Yet, as usual, Father showed no signs of doubting me.
He shrugged. “Well, if you claim to be someone’s reincarnation, I don’t see any reason to disbelieve you.”
“You’re taking me at my word?” I pressed.
“Hmm. You don’t seem to remember, but you said things of that nature during your childhood.”
No, I didn’t remember. After all, I’d only recently recalled my past life.
“What did she say as a child?” Albert asked, unable to suppress his curiosity about anything concerning Rosemary.
Father pondered the question. “She occasionally said things similar to that previous comment about her next mother. Also, she knew complicated, courtly manners that I’d never even learned myself. In any case, she was a very well-mannered child. You couldn’t have learned to curtsy like that in Edigma, Mary.”
“Huh?” I asked. “Really?”
I hadn’t been conscious of where I’d learned my manners. They’d been ingrained in me for as long as I could remember. But now that he mentions it, where did I learn them? I wondered.
“That’s right,” Father replied. “Not only did you have great table manners, but you also bowed to everyone so politely. Visitors always complimented you.”
That behavior came to me naturally, but looking back on my childhood, I hadn’t learned those manners in Edigma. I’d been aware of social etiquette to a greater degree than my tutor ever taught me. For some reason, I’d never wondered where this knowledge came from.
“It seemed so obvious that I never even stopped to think about it!” I cried.
Albert nodded. “Lady Rosemary received rigorous instructions in courtly manners, after all.”
The idea of those instructions being engraved on her reincarnated soul was terrifying. Also, I only recalled courtly manners, not any other knowledge. Considering that, I wouldn’t wish the education of a prospective queen on my worst enemy.
“Rosemary!” Father called out. “Even your names are similar! It must be fate. I’m sure she was a wonderful woman.”
Oh, that’s right, I thought, watching him make a merry racket. No one mentioned the name of my past self until just now.
Shortly after, the three of us sat down, and I explained the situation from beginning to end.
“Wow,” Father said, grasping the enormity of the situation. “I feel guilty about making you take care of the livestock.”
How typical of him.
That evening, Albert returned to the capital for work. Conversely, I decided to stay in Edigma for at least two days to fully enjoy my homecoming.
“I’ll be back for you,” Albert said when leaving, giving me a light kiss on the cheek. I watched him until he faded into the distance and then I went inside the manor.
Father was cooking in the kitchen. As a gourmet, he knew how to whip up a scrumptious home-cooked meal. Considering his skill, he could probably make a living as a chef even if stripped of land and title. I often wondered if that was his true calling.
“I’m making your favorite meat pie today,” he said.
“Thank you! That sounds wonderful.”
When I sat at the table, Father served the food and poured us two glasses of red wine. Thus began our private meal.
“Congratulations on your engagement.” Father raised his glass to me.
“Cheers!” I raised my glass in turn. Cheap and easy to drink, it filled me with memories of home.
We talked about various things while eating, such as my life in the capital and the state of the chivalric order. I even discussed the recent turmoil in a downplayed manner so as not to worry Father. Finally, I brought up Rosemary.
“It’s a strange sensation,” I said. “As if another version of myself has been asleep and dreaming inside me for my entire life.”
I described how it felt to occasionally sense Rosemary next to me. Explaining how we were the same person yet separate was always difficult.
“To be honest, I only regained her memories recently,” I said. “Do you remember when I lost consciousness before going to the capital? That was the trigger.”
“Ah, I do remember that.”
A rope grazing my neck brought back memories of my previous life. Looking back on that day, everything started there.
“What a strange story,” Father said. “If you hadn’t regained your memories, the future of our country might have changed dramatically. And you probably wouldn’t have gotten engaged to Sir Albert.”
“Yes, that seems likely…”
Had I not regained my memories, I would have worked as a palace handmaid without incident. During that time, Reynaldo and Albert would have exacted their vengeance.
“I think there must have been some reason you recalled your past life,” Father said.
“What do you mean?”
“After learning of Lord Reynaldo and Sir Albert’s plans, Lady Rosemary wanted to convey her lack of desire for vengeance. Perhaps she wanted to save them. Or, perhaps, some power awakened your memories to save the kingdom. What do you think of that?”
I laughed. “You should be a writer.”
Despite showing mirth at Father’s outlandish story, he might have been right. Perhaps I regained my memories because someone desired this future. If not, I might have lived my whole life without ever remembering Rosemary. In that case, I would have regarded the courtly manners engraved upon my soul as a curiosity.
“But there is one thing I know for certain,” Father said, winking at me awkwardly. “No matter what happens, you’ll always be my precious daughter.”
His words filled me with such joy that I could have wept. However, I only smiled. While this had been a short period in my life, it felt like I’d reached the end of a long, winding journey. Amid conflicts and upheavals, I even uncovered a new side of myself.
Yet, in the end, I would always return to my family’s side.