Thought It Was ‘The End’, Only to Return to a Changed Genre - Chapter 220

The land where the two settled was a countryside so remote that neither of them had ever heard its name before.

After a long journey by boat and carriage, they finally found a village suitable for settling down.

It was a foreign land where they couldn’t speak the language, and, of course, they knew no one.

“Why did you choose this place when you don’t even know the language?”

“I didn’t choose it—I just went wherever my feet took me.”

“……”

“I tend to act impulsively.”

For someone who had carefully planned out faking their death, they certainly spoke lightly of it.

“Well, if this was chosen on purpose, it’s pretty terrible.”

The single-story house was so old and decrepit it looked like it might collapse at any moment.

There were so many things that needed fixing that it seemed more economical to tear it down and build a new one.

To make matters worse, Adeline was gravely injured and in need of medical treatment. Yet this rural village had neither a priest nor a doctor—just a witch who lived on the outskirts and dealt in herbs.

Unlike the calm Adeline, who had come prepared with medicine from a major city, Lloyd was on edge.

He constantly feared that Adeline, who burned with a high fever every night, might die at any moment.

To Lloyd, Adeline seemed as fragile as a piece of paper that could tear at the slightest touch, yet she proved surprisingly resilient.

When Adeline eventually recovered, she said,

“Let’s split the housework.”

“Pardon me?”

Lloyd frowned instinctively.

How could a noble lady raised in luxury handle housework?

But Adeline was stubborn. She insisted that since they were living together, it didn’t make sense for her to do nothing.

Adeline took charge of the laundry, while Lloyd handled the cleaning.

Their first interaction with a neighbor occurred the day they decided to try cooking for themselves.

Though they used edible ingredients, the result was an utterly bizarre substance. They were still puzzling over how it had turned out so strangely when a neighbor, drawn by the smell, knocked on the door.

“I thought there was a fire.”

“It reeks of burning. What kind of cooking were you trying to do?”

Adeline and Lloyd had nothing to say, even if they had ten mouths.

“This is all because you couldn’t control the heat.”

“Even the parts that aren’t burnt taste strange.”

“You tasted it?!”

“How else would I know what it tastes like?”

“What if you get sick from eating that? Spit it out! Spit it out right now!”

“It’s fine. I already swallowed it.”

“Oh, come on. Didn’t I tell you not to eat just anything?”

“When did you say that?”

“Just now!”

“And for the record, I don’t eat just anything.”

“Honestly, what we made… didn’t exactly look safe to eat. That counts as eating just anything.”

Adeline blamed Lloyd for bringing the eggplant. Lloyd, incredulous, blamed the spinach.

The neighbor, who had been listening to their bickering, finally said,

“I’ll cook for you. Just buy your meals from me.”

“…Thank you…”

“We appreciate it.”

Adeline showed impeccable manners.

No matter the time or place, she never forgot to express gratitude or apologize, and she smiled warmly and amiably.

Even so, adapting to life in the countryside wasn’t easy.

Her long, platinum blonde hair reached her waist, her spotless pale skin was almost translucent, and her slender, elegant figure and refined demeanor screamed ‘noble’.

To the villagers, nobles were like walking disasters—best left alone to avoid trouble.

Aside from the one neighbor who provided meals, Adeline and Lloyd lived in isolation, interacting with no one else.

They worked on a small garden plot together and occasionally visited a larger nearby village for additional supplies.

In summer, they soaked their feet in a basin of water, and in winter, they tried knitting—which, of course, failed.

From the age of twelve to seventeen, Lloyd spent those formative years living in the countryside with Adeline.

Adeline often apologized, saying she was sorry for dragging him to such a remote place during such an important time in his life.

But to Lloyd, those years were pure happiness.

Every part of the dilapidated house bore Lloyd’s touch.

He had decorated it with small, charming items, turning it into a cozy home.

The crops grown in their tiny garden were unimpressive but fresh and sweet.

A home, shared with family.

To Lloyd, it was more perfect than any ideal.

Perhaps if he had lived with the mother whose face and warmth he couldn’t even remember, it might have felt something like this.

Maybe that’s why, deep down, he envied even the children who had been abandoned by their parents.

It was a thought he would never voice aloud.

‘It’s only a six-year difference…’

If Adeline found out he thought of her like a mother, Lloyd might just die of embarrassment.

For a long time, he thought Adeline hadn’t been happy back then. That thought left him feeling both resentful and apologetic, which made him act even more brusque toward her.

And, here and now—

Lloyd knelt beside the garden patch Adeline tended.

Even now, the modest little garden felt like a relic of those times.

To Lloyd, it was proof that those days hadn’t been entirely bad for Adeline, either.

“Things are better now, aren’t they?”

Probably not.

“Maybe not for Adeline.”

“Genevieve.”

“But it worked out for us.”

Lloyd looked up at the saintess, now the pope.

Genevieve, still wary, smiled faintly as she noticed Lloyd pulling away from her.

“You wouldn’t understand. You didn’t experience the five years Adeline wasn’t there.”