Random thoughts — reflecting on the past

I surfaced from sleep, but the pleasant softness of the sheets tempted me to doze off again for a bit.

Just yesterday, I was treated like an invisible ghost in that manor. Now? I’m being cared for here, in the Vanklyft Family’s manor, alongside Van’s son.

The boy’s only sixteen, but already practicing as a healer in the capital.

Each day, he grows more like my late husband.

I’m alive today thanks to him — when he was sent to the duke’s family, he begged to stay with his mother. That was the only reason I’m still breathing.

He doesn’t carry that man’s blood. And I heard the king didn’t hold a grudge either — which might’ve helped me, as a healer. But if I’d stayed married to that man? I’d be dead by now.

Not long after waking, the maid slipped into the room.

Good morning, Miss Liliana. Such a lovely day today, isn’t it?

Good morning.

The maid who’d come to change the sheets had already finished washing her face and was waiting by the bed.

I was about to thank her and head over when she started replacing the linens.

When I returned, I changed into fresh clothes—no corsets, just loose, comfortable garments laid out for me.

What struck me first upon arriving at this mansion was the clothing.

I was stunned by how pleasant it felt—so carefully designed not to constrict the body.

The Head of the Household and Master Hume are waiting for you in the dining hall. Come along now.

Her cheerful smile was oddly soothing.

I smiled back and thanked her, then walked with her toward the dining hall.

Good morning. I’m terribly sorry I’m late.

Ah, good morning. You’re looking brighter today, I see.

Sauvel returns the greeting with a warm smile. Then his son calls out, “Mom.”

“Good morning. You’re looking much brighter today.”

“Good morning. It’s because everyone’s been so kind to me. I can feel my body getting lighter every day.”

“That’s wonderful.”

Sauvel smiles at Liliana’s words.

At the same time, Isabella and Raffilia arrive and join them for breakfast.

Since I’ve been staying here, I’ve been eating breakfast with the family—alongside the son.

At first, I was nervous, trembling with awe, but Sauvel just shrugged and said, “You’re taking care of my precious son, so don’t be so stiff.”

Sauvel and Hume quietly eat while discussing work.

I’m not interrupted, I’m allowed to take my time—then Sauvel calls out to Raffilia.

“Yes?”

“Elen’s coming to visit this afternoon.”

“Really!?”

"If you want to play together, do your morning studies extra hard."

"Yesss!"

Raffilia, Sauvel’s daughter, brightened up the moment she heard Elen was coming to visit, and resumed eating with a smile.

I couldn’t help but smile at the sight—adorable, really—when our eyes met.

"…………"

She quickly flushed, then looked away.

Not that she hates me. Probably just embarrassed.

Staring at her, I suddenly thought, *I wish I had a daughter of my own.*

All because I’ve been such a disappointment, my son pushed himself to grow up faster than anyone else.

Proud, yes—but also a little lonely, like a bird that’s flown the nest.

Maybe that feeling, so familiar to me as a woman, somehow reached Isabella.

She noticed me looking, so I smiled. And she smiled back.

"Miss Liliana. How are you feeling today?"

"Thanks to everyone's kindness, I feel light today."

"Oh, then how about a cup of tea later, without overdoing it?"

"Yes, I'd be delighted."

I feel happy too, seeing Isabella so cheerful.

Back at that mansion, it was a constant game of hidden knives. The constant watchful eyes, the endless barbs in conversation—it all feels like a dream now.

This mansion is peaceful. Everyone here is kind.

I can't help but compare myself to these wonderful people.

＊＊＊

My husband was a healer. When the Monster Tempest hit fourteen years ago, he was conscripted and moved with us to Belundoor, located just beside the capital.

This family has long managed the academy at the border between the capital and here, and they’ve recently opened the academy as a refuge.

My husband went straight to the site, and I stayed here with my two-year-old son, waiting for him to return.

But even while waiting, I still needed food. So I worked to feed myself while waiting for my husband’s return.

It was during my work at the inn—cleaning and preparing meals—that I met that man, who had stopped by the inn.

I’d been persistently pursued, but I kept refusing, telling him I had a husband and a child.

Yet he wouldn’t give up. I was beginning to fear him, pressing me to divorce my husband, when suddenly I got a letter.

He was coming back. I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. And then, just as I was about to smile, a knight arrived at the inn and handed me a coin—bloodstained, etched with my husband’s name and his final remains. It was the healer’s token.

My husband was attacked by thieves on his way back. Everyone in the carriage was killed.

Even though everything else had been stripped from him, he clung to this one thing with stubborn resolve.

They say he was so determined, they even tried to cut off his fingers. But just then, knights returning from their journey happened to pass by. Only the coin was spared.

A sudden darkness in front of my eyes. My mind went blank.

Staring into nothing, my two-year-old son looked up and asked, “Where’s daddy?”

Tears blurred my vision, rising like a sob I couldn’t hold back. My voice must’ve sounded more like a scream than a cry. My son froze for a moment, terrified. Then—maybe he realized I was crying, really crying—he started calling out, “Mommy, mommy,” in his clumsy little voice, trying so hard.

I held him close. And that day, I cried without stopping, all day long.

But I couldn’t keep crying forever. I had to keep living—my son was still with me.

I explained the situation to the innkeeper who’d been kind to us, and tried to ask if I could stay on. He looked sorry, but said, “You’ll have to leave.”

I begged and pleaded—no chance to even speak. They shoved us both out, my son in my arms.

I wandered from place to place, searching for work, holding my son tight. When I tried to leave the territory, I was told no—there was still a thief out there who’d killed my husband. Too dangerous to go.

I was at my wit’s end when he showed up, grinning like a fool…

“…N-san. Liliana-san?”

Isabella’s voice snapped me back.

I’d been so caught up in tea with Isabella, I nearly forgot where I was.

“Don’t worry about it. …Something on your mind?”

She listened like a mother—soft, patient, kind.

Maybe now… I could finally say it. I’d decided to slowly speak what I’d never told a soul.

After fourteen years, I guess I’d managed to sort some of it out, somewhere deep inside.

I’d expected to get caught up in my own memories while talking—but somehow, the words just slipped out, unexpectedly smooth.

“Liliana… you’re…”

I was gently held, her eyes shimmering with tears.

Neither I nor my husband had anyone left. If my mother were still alive… she’d be about Isabella’s age, I suppose.

“It’s… just old memories. But why, I wonder? Ever since I came here, I’ve been remembering them all too clearly… I’m sorry…”

“It’s alright. You’re finally starting to find peace, aren’t you? That’s what time’s for—this is how it works, I think…”

Maybe my body was healing, and now it was my mind’s turn. But I wasn’t just trying to heal—wasn’t this just the rebound of my body finally feeling better?

This warm place… it was healing me, down to the soul.

"Would you stay here with me? I always wanted a daughter, you know. But I only ended up with two sons. Hehehe."

"Yes. Just seeing you, I suddenly wish I had a daughter."

"Oh, how funny—we’re thinking the same thing."

They laughed, finding common ground.

Sitting in the corner of the garden, sipping tea in the warm sunlight, spreading out a small table.

At that moment, the cheerful laughter of Raffilia and another girl echoed through the air.

"Oh, is Elen here already?"

With a skip in her step, Isabella quickly called the maids over. Her mood was bright, practically bouncing.

I tilted my head, watching her adjust her posture as she stood from her chair.

Then, from far away, came a shout: "Grandma!!"

A small, adorable girl dashed toward Isabella, throwing herself into her arms, radiating pure joy.

This girl… was the one who had saved us.

The two of them clinging to each other in pure joy—really, it was adorable.

"Good day to you, Liliana-sama."

"Good day to you, Miss Elen."

The little girl bowing with the hem of her skirt held in hand was utterly charming.

Raffilia, arriving breathless from behind, shouted, "Elen—!" with a hint of anger.

"You left me behind! That's cruel!!"

"Ah, sorry. I just got so excited seeing Grandma..."

They said the two girls were the same age, but judging by their height difference, they looked more like sisters.

The little girl trying to soothe Raffilia, cheeks puffed out in mock indignation—adorable.

I couldn’t help but chuckle softly when Isabella asked, "Aren’t they cute, my dear?"

"Yes. So much so."

A peaceful, heartwarming scene unfolded.

This gentle atmosphere—it was quietly, gently trying to erase old wounds.

It might take time to sort things out in my head… but someday, surely.

(Thinking back on the past and feeling sad about it... I really need to stop doing that...)

Didn’t my son say it too?

Let’s stop letting the past tie us down.

"…Liliana-san?"

Isabella’s worried voice came from the side. I blinked, and a tear slipped out.

...No way.

She fumbles to wipe away the tears, but they keep coming, one after another.

It’s alright. Cry now. Your body’s asking for it, isn’t it?

I’m being hugged by Isabella.

And suddenly, like a dam breaking, tears spilled forth.

The sound of children's laughter drifted through the garden.

I kept crying, held gently in Isabella’s arms beneath the warm sun.