Come and Cry at My Funeral - Chapter 245

Nova had an excellent memory.

Some might scoff, asking how good a three-year-old’s memory could really be. Others might say it was only natural for people to favor the precious child they served.

But at least for Mathilde, when it came to the black-haired three-year-old in her care, she could say with confidence:

Our young lady is so clever that she remembers everything her mother once said to her—and she is the most lovable child in the world.

However, a child’s cleverness wasn’t always a blessing.

At least from a caretaker’s perspective, a clever child was one who couldn’t be easily pacified with simple lies.

“Mathilde.”

“Yes, Lady Nova?”

“When will Mama wake up? I gotta wait another day?”

“That’s right. Just one more day.”

Just from the way the child puffed out both cheeks with all her might, it was clear that Mathilde was running out of excuses.

“Mathiiilde.”

Nova’s chubby cheeks flushed pink with righteous indignation. Perhaps it was because of her dark hair, but the soft blush on her cheeks stood out all the more—so much so that Mathilde wanted to nibble them.

But Nova was stomping her little feet, growing more and more agitated.

“Yesterday too, you told Nova that! And the day before yesterday! And the day before that day!”

“Mm…”

“Saying ‘just one more day’ again and again isn’t fair! Nova’s not an idiot! When will Mama wake up?”

At Nova’s pleading, Mathilde let out a despondent sigh.

Since they’d moved here last autumn, she had watched the child wait every single day for her mother to wake up. And even now, with spring long gone, Nova was still waiting—an impressive feat of patience for someone so young.

With no better answer, Mathilde bit her lip in hesitation… then finally chose to speak the truth.

“I’m sorry, Lady Nova. I don’t think we’ll know just yet.”

“Why! If we just wait another day—!”

“Forgive me. This is something only His Highness the Imperial Prince would know.”

“Hiiing…!”

Nova blinked her large eyes as they welled with tears. In almost every other way, she resembled the Duke, but when she widened her eyes and parted her lips, she looked exactly like her mother.

‘Ahh, maybe I shouldn’t have kept changing the story…’

Troubled by guilt, Mathilde gently cupped Nova’s cheek. In her own defense, she too had believed that Her Highness would surely awaken this spring.

So why hasn’t she woken up this time?

Even the Imperial Prince, who had come to check on his cousin, had waited and waited—until at last, he had no choice but to return to his duties.

Nova had cried so heartbreakingly that day… Mathilde had feared she would throw a fit if her uncle left too, so in the end, she had taken the risk and escorted the Imperial Prince all the way to the village edge.

Nova forced her eyes wide open to hold back tears and murmured,

“Then… when is Uncle coming back?”

“He promised to return as soon as he finishes his urgent work. This time, he truly meant it.”

“Mmm…”

Nova didn’t press further after Mathilde’s reply.

After all, no matter how much she fussed, she already knew. Her Mama wouldn’t wake up just because she wanted her to.

But when her Mama was about to wake up, her Uncle always came.

Or… when Uncle comes, Mama wakes up!

So all Nova could do was hope that Uncle would return quickly and wake Mama.

Instead of crying, Nova deliberately stomped through the garden with loud steps. She could walk like a fairy, light and graceful, but a three-year-old didn’t always need to remember things like that.

Besides, the real fairy wasn’t Nova, but Mama.

Soon, as the white flower bushes of the garden came into view, Nova briefly forgot her sadness and smiled.

“Hee…”

Inside the glass coffin, a woman lay asleep, surrounded by flowers, her eyes gently closed. The glass gave off a faint bluish sheen, so it was hard to tell, but the last time Nova had seen her, her hair had been a beautiful wheat-gold.

A pretty Mama, sleeping like a fairy from a storybook.

Nova pressed her round cheek against the glass. She wished Mama could stroke her face, but the glass wall stood in the way.

It was cool on a summer day, so she would forgive it, but still, the glass was mean. And if she dared to open it without permission, Mama might never wake up again. So Nova never forced it open.

Instead, she stared endlessly at the sleeping profile within and whispered softly,

“Mama, the flower ladies are going away now. They said they’ll come back when Nova turns four.”

The fragrant white flowers Mama loved most were slowly wilting.

So why… why wouldn’t Mama wake up?