Home/My Youngest Keeps Bringing Me Male Leads/ch 51

Chapter 51

After a long journey, the moment she finally arrived home.

She heard a familiar voice.

At the same time, it felt unfamiliar. Perhaps because it had been so long, or maybe because Amy's circumstances had changed in the meantime.

Whether this place she was standing in was reality, or the novel she'd read in her past life.

Whether her sister, 'Agnes,' truly existed.

Since she was the protagonist of a novel, perhaps she was just someone who existed in dreams, an illusion that would vanish when she opened her eyes.

So Amy could only stare blankly at her sister, who felt both familiar and strange.

The sight of her running toward her was like a 'slow motion' scene in a movie.

It was strange even to recall such a word.

In that frozen frame, Amy saw the scenery spreading out on either side of her sister.

A brilliant garden.

Sunlight lingered everywhere, brightening every corner.

The grass was neatly trimmed, and flowers bloomed in every corner.

Even that felt unfamiliar.

In Amy's memory, the Laverose estate had always been shrouded in gray.

The garden was always overgrown with weeds.

To young Amy, it had been like a forest full of things to explore.

Marta worried about her getting bitten by insects, but Amy would toddle through the ever-growing weeds, delighted whenever a bug peeked out.

She clearly remembered her sister and Rupert bickering as they cut back the weeds.

When she stomped her feet and clapped her hands, they would turn around and smile at her.

Even that ended when her sister went to the Waldemar estate, but Amy still went out to the garden alone.

The garden was covered in mottled moss, the grass grew taller than Amy, and corners were crumbling.

Later, Marta stopped her, saying it was too dangerous.

That garden had changed remarkably.

In the flood of memories, Amy saw Agnes.

The hem of her light blue dress fluttered around her calves as she ran.

Her sister's cheeks were flushed with pink.

The gloomy, weary expression she'd seen every day in her dreams was nowhere to be found.

Her eyes, which had seemed so empty as if she'd deliberately cut off her emotions, were different too.

Her white eyelids were tinged with red.

Filled with every kind of emotion, as if she might burst into tears at any moment.

Coming right up to her, Agnes pulled Amy into her arms.

Her view suddenly rose.

The tight embrace made it hard to breathe.

When their cheeks touched, warm heat softly pressed against her.

Dazed, Amy took in the unfamiliar sensations.

Agnes whispered in a tearful voice.

"You haven't gotten any heavier. What happened..."

Rubbing her cheek against Amy's, her voice scattered through her tears.

"You're a year older. You're six now."

I don't know either.

I was unconscious in the Crack.

Since I didn't eat, I didn't grow?

But she couldn't answer.

When her sister's kind voice reached her ears, and the familiar, warm embrace, mixed with a soft scent, enveloped her—

From her earliest days, before she even had memories, she recalled with her whole body the sensation of always being together.

Amy forgot everything.

The reason she'd traveled across the continent for so long.

Her past-life memories.

The burdensome secrets of the world.

"Sob, sniff."

She tried to hold it back.

"It must have been hard, Amy. I missed you. I missed you so much."

With that one sentence from her sister, everything crumbled.

"Waaaaah!"

She wanted to hold her sister tight.

She wanted to hug her with all her might, but her arms were too short and her hands too small.

All she could do was cling.

Clinging as tightly as she could, Amy writhed and sobbed.

Feeling her clothes grow damp, she thought her sister must be crying too, but she couldn't tell for sure.

Just like any six-year-old, Amy cried like a real child.

For a very long time, until she was too exhausted to cry anymore.

---

There was no strength left in her body.

Only after laying the exhausted, crying Amy on the bed did Agnes realize how drained she was.

Even for a six-year-old, she was quite heavy.

Having held her for so long, her arms had no strength left.

Agnes sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly down at Amy.

A low voice came from beside her.

"Would you like me to rub your arms for you?"

Turning her head, she saw a stranger standing there.

No, the face was familiar.

The height she looked up at was also familiar, but his presence was so different he seemed like a different person.

Agnes stared at him blankly for a long time.

His neatly styled light brown hair.

And his dark blue eyes, like the night sky.

His handsome face looked firm, and above all, his build was different from what she remembered.

The gaunt body was gone; beneath his light clothing, his physique was sculpted like a knight's.

He'd always been tall, but with his build, he now looked quite imposing.

'Ah, no wonder he could defeat a dragon.'

But the kind, faithful look in his eyes as he gazed at her was the same, so Agnes could naturally smile.

"What happened to you in there?"

"What do you mean?"

"Surely the Crack wasn't a knight training ground. Did you go to a battlefield or something?"

"Well... it was something similar."

"Rupert."

The tears she'd barely held back threatened to spill again.

Holding them in, Agnes reached out and pulled his hand toward her.

His thick, rough hand was unfamiliar. Tracing the scars on it with her eyes, Agnes rested her head against him.

Her forehead reached about his waist.

Finally unable to hold back, Agnes cried and whispered softly.

"Thank you... and I'm sorry."

A low laugh settled over her head.

A heavy weight pressed down on her shoulder.

It was probably his hand.

While she sobbed for a long time, Rupert said nothing.

He just patted her, as he had on those days when she'd cried alone after losing her mother.

After a long time, when Agnes finally calmed down, Rupert handed her a handkerchief.

Wiping her damp cheeks, Agnes smiled as if nothing had happened, trying to hide her embarrassment.

"You must be tired. Let me show you to a room. I'm sure you want to see Alfred too."

Just as she was about to get up, Rupert pressed down on her shoulder.

"No, I'm fine."

Rupert gestured toward Amy with his eyes.

"She called for you often every night. I think it would be best if you stayed by her side until she wakes up."

"Right..."

She was very curious about what had happened, but Amy came first.

Rupert must be exhausted too.

She could ask him about it later.

Agnes lay down on her side beside Amy.

Rupert stood watching them, so Agnes smiled and motioned for him to sit.

As they both looked down at Amy side by side, memories of the past came back.

When Amy was first born, she would only calm down in Agnes's arms, so the two of them often took care of her together.

After finally putting Amy to sleep, or when she was sick with a fever, the two of them would always watch over her like this.

Amy, sleeping as soundly as she had as a baby, was both pitiful and dear.

"I heard you were sick."

"I think the journey was just hard on her. She's fine now."

"You can go. You should rest too."

"I'm fine. Please don't worry."

"You always said that and then got sick when I wasn't around."

"Really, I'm fine now. Look, don't I seem healthy?"

Glancing at Rupert, he really did look so different from before that Agnes laughed softly.

"You're right."

With her excitement settled, and the warmth of Amy beside her, her eyes grew heavy with drowsiness.

Rupert silently pulled the blanket up to cover them.

"I'm not going to sleep."

She grumbled, but she truly was too tired.

As if soothing a child, Rupert patted her gently.

"I'll keep watch, so please sleep."

"You don't have to do that anymore. You'd be surprised how much has happened..."

There was now a magical barrier protecting the mansion, she'd been given a bracelet to protect her, and she'd put out a fire in the village...

There was so much she wanted to tell him.

But his familiar presence, and Amy's soft breathing whispering beside her, were so reassuring that Agnes quietly closed her eyes.

Soon, her breathing also settled into a steady rhythm.

Looking down at the sisters sleeping side by side, Rupert sat motionless for a long time.

Then, he reached out his hand.

As if to brush back the hair that had fallen across Agnes's cheek.

But his fingertips never touched her.

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