“Helmut, you probably need to wash up. See those ladies over there? They’ll help you out.”
“Ah, okay.”
The child seemed a little nervous, likely because the new environment felt unfamiliar.
Acknowledging that there was nothing more she could do about it, Teresia gestured to the maids, entrusting the boy to them.
As the maids took the child to the bathroom attached to the room, Teresia raised her head and glanced around at the ceiling, dressing table, desk, and bed, one after another, letting out a hollow laugh.
At eighteen, when she spent her last night in this house, the room had looked exactly the same.
It seemed undeniable that she had somehow returned to the past, to when she was seventeen years old.
Though she wondered how such a supernatural phenomenon could have occurred, there was no doubt it had.
This was an opportunity for Teresia to live a better life.
She sat at the desk, pulling out a fountain pen and paper.
It was to jot down what she could do in this situation.
She began writing down, in no particular order, whatever came to mind regarding what actions she could take.
[1. Avoid marrying Joseph
→ It seems I’ll have to act recklessly. Neither side will leave me alone. However, there doesn’t seem to be a rational way to handle this.
- If possible, live a peaceful life and die gracefully at an old age
→ I need to go somewhere beyond the reach of the new government in Devarn. There’s no hope on this continent, so I should consider seeking asylum somewhere else.]
Asylum, huh…
Asylum sounded good. However, Teresia had lived her whole life without knowing the value of money.
Even though she had spent the last few months of her previous life in hiding, she hadn’t worried about money then either, thanks to the stacks of cash Joseph had stuffed into her Boston bag.
The inheritance will mostly go to my brother… It’s a huge amount, but the money I’ll get will likely just be the dowry. And if I insist on not marrying, even that will vanish.
In short, Teresia had neither money nor ability.
She was keenly aware of this.
If the goal was to live a better life in exile, enduring a miserable existence was pointless.
The reason she wanted to avoid marrying Joseph was to escape a mentally draining life.
But if she had to endure a similarly taxing life, albeit a different kind, it would be meaningless.
Whether she was executed by firing squad at thirty-four or died a natural death at eighty, as a human, she couldn’t avoid death. The key was the process leading up to that point.
Teresia resolved to make that process solid and meaningful with this second chance she had been given.
She would prioritize her happiness and emotional stability, no matter what.
I need the skills to earn a living on my own, proficiency in the language to adapt to life there, and either citizenship or nationality.
It was all manageable if taken step by step.
Setting her sights on seeking asylum in Liswen, the most powerful nation, Teresia wrote the word “Liswen” in bold letters.
Although she had studied the language of Liswen as part of her education before marriage and had been quite fluent, she hadn’t looked at it since marrying.
It would be like starting over, but if she worked hard, regaining her former skills might be easier than expected.
But what kind of skills should I develop to earn a living?
She had never studied properly before.
Specifically, she had never prepared for college entrance exams or school tests.
She had attended a girls’ school until she was fifteen but had spent the years after that learning practical matters from private tutors, with no intention of attending university.
Was she talented in the arts? Not at all.
Sadly, she had no notable talent in the arts.
What about sports?
Her physical strength was slightly above average compared to most women, but that was about it.
She was decent at shooting, a skill she had learned as part of her education, but unless she planned to compete in international shooting tournaments as a Liswen citizen, it wasn’t particularly meaningful.
“Haah, I really grew up like a flower in a greenhouse…”
Teresia thought with a sigh that escaped her lips.
How could someone be so utterly unskilled at anything?
The only things she knew how to do were appeasing people above her, practicing social etiquette, and navigating high society—all of which were entirely useless.
Even though she had lived 34 years, it was unbelievable that she had neither achieved nor excelled at anything meaningful.
She thought she had lived diligently, even if she wasn’t mentally sound, but…
“At least now that I’ve returned to being seventeen, there are still about thirteen years left before that upheaval in Devarn happens. Thirteen years should be… enough to turn things around.”
She realized she had more time than she thought.
Teresia decided not to rush and to invest her time wisely.
Having made up her mind, she closed the cap on her fountain pen just as the boy emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel.
The maid, who had brought along a set of children’s shirts and trousers, handed the boy the clothes.
After he dressed, the maids dried his hair, removing the moisture.
“Looks like we’ll need to cut your hair and get you some clothes. You look even more handsome now that you’re clean.”
She almost called him “pretty,” but recalling that the child was a boy, she corrected herself and praised his handsomeness instead.
“Helmut, do you happen to have a last name?”
Then she suddenly asked, realizing she hadn’t heard his surname earlier.
“Uh… I don’t remember.”
But the boy’s response was that he didn’t know.
He must have a surname, though. Teresia tapped her nails on the desk as she pondered.
“We’ll need your personal information to find your parents.”
Of course, he might have been an orphan from the start.
To gather as many clues as possible, Teresia posed another question.
“How old are you, Helmut? I’m seventeen.”
“Uh… I don’t really remember. Ah, oh! Was it nine? Or ten…?”
Not even knowing his own age?
It was heartbreaking to imagine the kind of life this boy must have lived from such a young age.
Still, she had thought he was about eight, but to hear he might be nine or ten was surprising.
Since it seemed unlikely she would get much useful information from him, there was only one solution.
Even though it was technically her family’s money, she still had the means to spend it freely to some extent.
“Anna.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Gather all the information you can about anyone named Helmut from the capital, aged between eight and eleven, with blond hair and green eyes. Narrow it down to cases where the parents died or the child was left at an orphanage.”
“All of it?”
“Yes. And also, ask the merchants in the shopping district we visited earlier if they’ve heard of Helmut.”
After giving those instructions, Teresia rose from her chair. She smiled warmly as she approached Helmut.
She gently ran her hand over his still-damp golden hair and asked kindly, “Are you hungry? Is there anything you’d like to eat?”
“I-I’m fine…”
But he looked too skinny to be fine.
Teresia quickly realized the boy was just being cautious and saying what he thought she wanted to hear.
Deciding it would be best to ease the tension, Teresia turned to Anna and gave another order.
“Prepare a simple meal for Helmut. For me, an afternoon tea set will do.”
“Understood, my lady.”
After Anna left, Teresia took Helmut by the arm and led him to the sofa.
Once seated together, Helmut fidgeted awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.
“Helmut, from now on, think of me as your mother or sister and feel free to be at ease, okay?”
Although her current age made her his “sister,” the seventeen-year-old Teresia housed the soul of thirty-four-year-old Teresia.
Having decided to become Helmut’s guardian, it made sense to think of him as her child.
In truth, she felt a strong sense of responsibility to become this boy’s parent, as though she could finally make up for her regret of never having had a child in her past life.
“When did you start living alone?”
While they waited for the food, Teresia asked Helmut various questions, trying to learn more about him.
Most of his responses were along the lines of “I don’t remember” or “I don’t know,” so progress was slow.
***
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