Their lips met tightly and then parted.
Sion, stunned by the kiss, remained as stiff as a statue, unable to even blink. Laila, looking down at him, contemplated.
…Should I do it again?
No, better wait until next time. My heart feels like it’s going to burst. At this rate, I might die four months early.
Laila released Sion’s crumpled collar and stepped back.
“Well, good night.”
If he can fall asleep, that is.
Laila turned away from Sion and left the bedroom.
She then remembered that she had forgotten to bring out the candle.
But she thought, “What does it matter?”
As she walked slowly down the corridor, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, her heart continued to beat loudly.
☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓
She had crossed the line.
And with that, Laila had nothing left to fear.
Of course, she was cautious when others were watching. However, when it was just her and Sion alone, she often pulled him close by his collar without hesitation.
Sion remained stiff, flustered, and sometimes with a dazed expression. Yet, he never avoided Laila when she kissed him, regardless of the situation.
Laila was satisfied. This was enough.
There was no point in being more greedy…
‘Only three months left?’
After making Sion thoroughly flustered by visiting him first thing in the morning, Laila moved to the library.
Laila spread the partially read book on the table, flipping it over, and sat in a chair, lightly swinging her legs.
‘Should I go on a trip?’
Just the two of us… with Sion…
Suddenly, the thought crossed her mind that it was rather fortunate Sion didn’t like her.
How would it feel to like someone who only has three months left to live?
If it went beyond liking and turned into love…
It would be devastating. Wouldn’t they want to die in their place every day?
Laila wasn’t particularly intent on tormenting Sion or anything deep. She just hoped he wouldn’t be deeply hurt because of her.
After a while, she resumed her interrupted reading. However, she found it difficult to concentrate on the content of the book.
Instead of turning the pages, she fiddled with her lips and eventually closed the book and left the library.
☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓
Sion had left the castle.
According to the servants’ gossip, a herb that could revive the dead had been discovered in some territory…
“Must be nonsense.”
Laila murmured as she lay down on the long sofa instead of the bed.
Since being diagnosed with a terminal illness, Laila has maintained a skeptical attitude.
She didn’t want to be disappointed, disheartened, or frustrated. So she decided not to have any expectations.
Soon, Laila closed her eyes. Even after sleeping well and waking up, she felt drowsy again as soon as the afternoon came.
She had been sleeping a lot lately.
What will she look like when she dies in a few months?
She hopes she doesn’t die while coughing up blood or something.
Such a sight would only torment everyone watching her death…
If she could die in her current state, as if she were just sleeping, that would be enough.
Laila thought about that and then took a nap.
“Madam, we have a guest.”
“Hmm…”
Laila, waking up from the sofa, yawned widely.
“Who is it?”
“They only gave a name—Esther…”
Esther. The familiar name made Laila hesitate, and she closed her eyes again. It must be just a coincidence.
“Send them away. Tell them I’m not well and can’t see anyone right now.”
“Um, the person also asked me to tell you this—”
“Hm?”
When Laila opened her eyes, the maid continued.
“It’s me, Lala.”
Laila rolled off the sofa and stumbled to her feet, feeling dizzy. She staggered but managed to stand up.
“Where is that person?”
☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓
It couldn’t be.
It was impossible.
But despite thinking this, Laila ran. She gasped for breath as she entered the reception room.
The woman sitting there looked up at Laila.
Laila caught her breath and examined the woman’s appearance.
Fair skin. Round features. Milky-colored hair. Green eyes.
…Everything except the green eyes was unfamiliar. Still, Laila slowly approached the woman.
Laila’s trembling voice escaped.
“…Sister?”
The woman silently stood up and embraced Laila as she approached.
“It’s been a long time.”
“…”
“I haven’t seen you since you were six.”
Oh my God.
Laila hugged the woman tightly, tears streaming down her face.
Her eldest sister, whom she thought was dead, had appeared alive.
Laila had to ask the question that was unavoidable.
“What happened?”
“Laila, do you think I’m Esther?”
“…Aren’t you?”
“That’s right.”
“What?”
“I was a bit surprised. You accepted me as I am more easily than I expected.”
“…Then, who else would I accept as my sister other than you?”
“I was prepared to be treated as an imposter.”
“The only person who ever called me Lala was you.”
“Really?”
The woman, ‘Esther,’ smiled.
Laila felt her heart pound.
Sister.
It’s really her.
The evidence to support this was weak, but somehow Laila felt convinced.
“Are Ethan or Milo also alive?”
“No, I’m the only one. Just me.”
“…I see.”
“I heard rumors, Laila. That you’re suffering from an incurable disease. Is it true?”
“…Yes.”
Although she wasn’t sick, she was facing the same inevitable end as someone with a terminal illness.
“How long do they say you have left?”
“…About three months.”
“Three months, huh.”
If she hurried, time wouldn’t be too tight.
Esther murmured that, then asked:
“Laila.”
“Hmm?”
“If someone said you could live if you sacrificed their life…”
“What?”
Esther’s green eyes locked onto Laila.
“Would you accept that life?”
☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓
At nineteen years old, Esther Hildegarde was dying.
The cause was a knife wound. She had been attacked while sleeping in her inn room.
The assailant had stabbed her in the abdomen and then fled after repeatedly apologizing.
Perhaps her lungs were damaged, as she couldn’t breathe properly. The pain was intense, and she couldn’t move.
Esther lay on the bed and reflected.
What a miserable life it was…
In the next life, may the father she meets be a decent human being…
Esther closed her eyes.
But then, the door to the inn room burst open.
The person who barged in was the coachman who had driven Esther and her siblings.
Esther barely managed to open her eyes again and recalled the coachman’s name: Rail.
But she couldn’t call out to him. Her voice wouldn’t come.
“No, miss, please…”
Rail knelt beside Esther’s bed and wept loudly.
Then, with a hoarse voice, he murmured,
“It’s okay. Miss, just hold on a little longer. It’s okay.”
What’s okay… I’m going to die soon…
“I’ll save you.”
A noble sentiment, but… it doesn’t seem possible…
“My real name isn’t Rail, but Aidal. Our family’s names all end in ‘dal’.”
Oh, I see…
“When you wake up, you won’t be in pain anymore.”
That’s true. If it hurts even in the afterlife, that would be something…
“I loved Miss Esther more than anyone else.”
What? I didn’t know that…
In the next moment, Esther’s consciousness faded. Her consciousness sank.
When she woke up, she had become a woman named ‘Mona.’
“Mona has come to her senses!”
“Mona! Why did you jump into the lake?”
“Thank goodness you’re safe, Mona.”
It took Esther several days to accept that she wasn’t in the afterlife or dreaming.
She was still in the real world. She hadn’t died. She had been revived.
“But Mona… your eye color has changed.”
“Really! It used to be brown!”
“Green? That’s so beautiful…”
“Should I jump into the lake too?”
“Oh, you crazy girl. Can you come back to life?”
