𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐆𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐱, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰
If God exists and I could say anything to Him, I would unabashedly ask, “Why did you let me be reborn with my memories intact? Is this some kind of harassment?”
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I have memories of my previous life, and they’re not particularly good ones.
In my past life, I was utterly alone. I married a man who turned out to be a waste. He was handsome, but that was all. He squandered the money I worked hard to earn through multiple jobs, cheated on me, and ultimately disappeared without even filing for divorce.
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“At least get a divorce!”
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I clearly remember yelling that in the room where our memories together remained. The absence of valuable items strangely evoked laughter.
The TV was gone, but the photos were left behind.
The man who lovingly looked into my eyes and suggested we take wedding photos even if we didn’t have a ceremony is now gone.
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Afterwards, the previous me worked desperately. It took a considerable amount of time and money to formally divorce by hiring a lawyer.
Marriage left nothing but scars on my heart.
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“If I was reborn. . .why do I still have these miserable memories?”
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All I want is to be happy. However, with these memories, I can’t bring myself to think about getting married.
I had no choice but to consider it a blessing that I was less likely to fall for a bad guy.
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Reality doesn’t go as smoothly as fiction. Despite my memories from a previous life, this world has magic and most things are readily available. In fact, life is more comfortable here than it was in Japan.
There are baths that clean you and your hair just by entering, and fully automated cooking devices. Although everything is ridiculously expensive.
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“Hmm, I guess that’s the prep work done.”
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Straightening my hunched back, I rinsed the diced potatoes in water.
I am now a somewhat poor Viscount’s daughter. My dad works in the royal castle, so we have a house in the royal capital, but he’s neither well-connected nor highly paid.
My dad is an honorable man who works diligently and brings home all of his earnings, never wasting money or cheating. However, I do think he’s too honest and too kind to work among nobles. He’s probably drawn the short straw in life.
My mom is frail and relies on medication. She’s a woman of strong character, and I admire and love her. She showers both me and my younger brother, Thor, with plenty of affection as she raises us.
Thor, the heir of the Norchev family, is 14 years old. I’ve raised him strictly but lovingly in hopes that he won’t turn out like the scumbag I married in my previous life, and he’s turned into an admirable siscon.
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Even if our tea parties at home are scarce, even if I have to wear the same dress multiple times, and even if the housework is done by me and our part-time housekeeper for the sake of economizing, I was still very happy. I was loved by the family I had longed for in my past life, and every day was peaceful.
Then, unexpectedly, a problem arose.
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We’re out of money.
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My friends, daughters of other families, started getting married one after the other. These are friends who knew about the Norchev family’s situation and still treated me the same, even helping me at times. Our family was happy to give wedding gifts and celebrate their joyous occasions.
I’m already 18, and I had been saving money for this time.
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Then, relatives started passing away one after another.
Due to an endemic disease, the only saving grace was that it was limited to one area, but it resulted in many deaths. It was a family that had always been supportive, providing generous gifts at the time of my parents’ marriage and helping with my mom’s medication.
Considering they must be short on funds now, our family decided to send them money.
There’s no custom of giving condolence money in this world, but it’s a matter of human kindness.
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If it were just that, we could’ve managed somehow, but to make matters worse, my best friend married into a more prestigious family. If we skimp and give a weird gift now, the reputation of the Norchev family would be ruined.
On top of everything, my mom collapsed from the stress of busy schedules and the passing of a family member. Medical bills and doctor’s fees piled up. Fortunately, her health recovered and the entire family was relieved.
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Then my younger brother, Thor, is to enroll in an aristocratic school.
Living in the capital as we do, going there is mandatory and everything—tuition, uniforms, fees—is expensive. We might manage this month, but next month will probably be impossible.
Finally, my dad conveyed this to me in a strained voice.
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“. . .We’re astonishingly broke.”
“I figured as much.”
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I nod solemnly.
Dad, sensing that I didn’t want to marry, had never brought up the topic of an engagement. Pressing him to speak further would have been cruel.
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“I want you to find me a job through your connections, dad.”
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My dad looked up sharply.
In this world, there are very few jobs that women can do. The only jobs permitted for noblewomen are related to cooking and being a maid.
Kitchens are populated mostly by women, due to the belief that all matters related to cooking should be women’s work. Commoners have more flexibility in various occupations, but for noblewomen who never work, these are the only two options.
Our family isn’t wealthy enough for me to become a maid, and I haven’t received that kind of education. That leaves only one option.
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“If there’s no work, then so be it. But I don’t want to decide my path without trying what I can.”
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My dad pressed his temples hard. He’s a sincere man, a little rigid, who works diligently even when dealt a bad hand.
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Dad must have tried every possible way to find a job for his beloved daughter.
I was introduced to a job in the kitchens of the Knights’ Order, a dream job for a noblewoman.
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