My Dear Aster

A few years ago, her daughter who was sitting across from the tea table said:

“Mom, you know what?”

“Why are you calling me so seriously? It’s making me uneasy.”

“It’s no big deal, I just thought of something out of the blue.”

Her child who was only 19 years old had a very mature face. She was in her senior year of the academy, and soon after graduation, she was expecting marriage. Her soft, grown-up, and somewhat benevolent face would bring the feeling of being someone’s wife.

“If mother ever lives again, don’t give birth to me.”

“What are you talking about all of a sudden?”

“You don’t have to give birth to me. So, I want my mother to live as she pleases.”

It was a sudden, ridiculous statement.

“That sounds ridiculous.”

“No reason. It’s popular in magic classes these days. A story of living again. My major subject is time.”

“Just study properly. Young children don’t learn everything from the academy.”

“I know. I’ve been thinking about it, and there are a lot of things I want to change, but I don’t think it’s going to change my life. No matter what I change, I am mom and dad’s daughter. Either way, I would be Baron Hadley’s esteemed daughter, and Count Cardin’s wife…… and not more than a Countess. Even if it’s a small thing, I hope I don’t fall down the stairs, that I won’t repeat the mistakes I made at the debut party, or that changing those things again doesn’t mean my life itself will change that much.”

Then she smiled.

“So, when that opportunity comes, I’m going to give it to my mom.”

“How could you have such an opportunity?”

“I don’t know. But, I am a magician.”

“Your graduation grade is rank 6, right?”

She laughed.

“Okay, I won’t give birth when I get a chance like that. Why do I have to give birth to you twice and suffer again?”

Then the daughter smiled, too.

“Meet someone better than Dad. A cool man. Someone tall enough for my mom to wear heels, a handsome face, and someone who will understand your painting.”

“My painting is the same as your magic grade, huh.”

“I heard you had a first love.”

“There was.”

“If you live again, confess. Who knows? Maybe it will work out?”

“How could that be?”

“I’m just trying to think about it.”

The mother and daughter giggled together.