The Protagonist’s Party is Too Diligent Chapter 285

Of course, it was an obvious thing to say, but I had a family too.

That is, before I ca to this world.

We weren’t rich enough to be called wealthy, but we never went hungry either. I vaguely rember struggling with money when I was very young, but by the ti I was in middle and high school, our financial situation had improved. It wasn’t enough to buy ga consoles or new gas with my allowance, but I could afford to buy manga and novels from ti to ti. Our family had enough money to send both and my younger sibling to college.

It wasn’t a picture-perfect, harmonious household, but we still saw each other as family and cared for one another.

I only truly imrsed myself in hobbies like gaming and manga after I graduated from university and got a job.

…In all likelihood, I must be dead in my original world. My mories of how I ended up here are faint, but every ti I try to recall it, I get a sinking feeling. That probably ans I died.

Thinking about what happened to my remaining family now is aningless. If there’s an afterlife, maybe I’ll et them again once I’ve lived out this life. We’ll talk things over then. There are goddesses, all sorts of monsters, and magic in this world—so, of course, souls must exist too.

With that thought, I had already tucked away my mories of my "original family" years ago.

Then what about this world?

Maybe it was because of my deeply ingrained East Asian way of thinking, but accepting people as family without any blood ties wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

From their perspective, we were siblings who had grown up together since childhood. But to , they were just acquaintances I had t in my thirties.

Claire called “sister” with ease. Alice outright declared herself my younger sister. Leo, whether as a joke or because he’d gotten used to it, referred to as “big sister.”

Were we close? If asked that, I’d nod without hesitation. Would I risk my life to protect them? I’d nod again.

But… did I truly feel like we were family?

I couldn’t bring myself to nod so easily at that question.

I had done almost nothing for them, so how could I go around calling them my family?

Because of that, sitting here now felt as uncomfortable as sitting on a bed of nails.

"……."

After arriving at the Grace Barony and exchanging brief greetings, we were now seated in the guest lounge, having tea.

I took slow, deliberate sips, unsure how to start the conversation. Alice, sitting beside , mimicked my actions. Claire and Leo, on the other hand, were far too comfortable, their expressions and posture annoyingly at ease.

And across from us, the Baroness of the Grace family watched us with a slight smile on her lips.

Ironically, she was soone I was incredibly familiar with.

Though I hadn’t fully lived through every mont of the rewound ti, I had spent years in this house.

And for those years, I had called Baroness Grace "Mother."

That had been a calculated decision.

I had been startled when Lucas kidnapped Claire instead of , but once I was left behind in the Grace household, I seized the opportunity. Unlike Claire, I had no talent for swordsmanship, so I played the role of a "genius" using the knowledge I had carried over.

Of course, that title of genius would fade as I grew older. A child reading books ant for adults was impressive, but an adult reading adult books was nothing special.

In that sense, I had deceived the Grace family.

If I had never regained my mories of those rewound tilines, I would have never even realized I had deceived them.

I had tricked them—but the ones I had tricked had never once tried to deceive . The Baron and Baroness Grace weren’t the type of people to sche or manipulate.

They had probably called their daughter sincerely.

When they had said they were proud of , they had ant it.

When they praised my grades, when they worried for when I was sick—

…Hmm.

There’s a Native Arican proverb that says a person’s conscience is shaped like a triangle. Whenever they do sothing wrong, it spins inside them, the sharp edges making them feel guilty. As people grow up and make mistakes, those edges wear down, and by the ti they’re adults, their conscience is a smooth circle that spins without causing pain, allowing them to lie without hesitation.

If my conscience had been completely worn down to a round shape, then at this mont, it must have been spinning so violently that its edges sharpened back into a triangle.

It felt like a needle was stabbing into my heart.

"I heard you had sothing to say."

I finally spoke when the Baroness remained silent for too long. I knew I wasn’t in a position to rush the conversation after what I had done, but I also didn’t want to sit here in silence for hours.

"Yes, that’s why I called you here."

…Ugh.

In my mories, Baroness Grace had two distinct faces.

The first was the one she showed when treating as the imperial princess. The noble, refined deanor she had when I visited here during sumr breaks. There was, of course, an undeniable difference in status between us, long before any difference in age mattered. Because of that, Baroness Grace always spoke to with formal respect.

The second was the version of her that existed within the world created by the goddess—the version of her that was my “mother.”

In that world, my status was that of Lady Grace, the Baron’s daughter. Naturally, Mother spoke to informally. She never lost her dignity, but her attitude was warm and familiar, entirely without pretense. That ant she truly saw as her daughter.

Ironically, the version of Baroness Grace I had spent more ti with was the latter.

And she must have felt the sa about .

“I was simply wondering who it is that sits before now,” she said. “If the person before is Her Highness, the princess, then as a noble of this kingdom, I must show the appropriate courtesy. But if she is my daughter, then it would only be right for to treat her with much more warmth.”

…Ugh.

Her words struck so hard that even the needle of my guilty conscience hesitated for a mont, as if wondering, Is this where she dies? Not that Baroness Grace had ant to be cruel.

“……”

I opened my mouth but shut it again. I had no idea how to respond.

“…Baroness.”

Alice, unable to watch any longer, finally spoke.

“Yes, Your Highness the Crown Princess?”

Unlike , Alice was still technically a princess, both then and now. Just hearing Baroness Grace’s voice wasn’t enough to make her crumble. After all, while the situation was uncomfortable, Alice had never wronged the Grace family.

“I know I have no right to interfere in the relationship between the two of you,” Alice continued. “But if what concerns you is status, then I can assure you that it’s not sothing you need to worry about. Sylvia isn’t the type to let that dictate her relationships.”

…

Was that true?

For soone who supposedly didn’t care about status, I certainly made good use of mine. But I wasn’t foolish enough to point that out right now, so I kept my mouth shut and let Alice defend .

“I see.”

Baroness Grace responded with a faint smile, setting her teacup down on the table.

“But even if that is the case, I cannot act recklessly until I hear her own thoughts,” she said. “I cannot be certain whether the person I rember was truly the princess herself… or rely an act.”

For the first ti, her expression faltered. Not by much—her smile didn’t disappear, and her face remained composed. But the slight drop in her eyebrows and the way her gaze lowered as she looked at …

That alone made her expression unbearably sorrowful.

“If it was the latter,” she continued, “then I would have no choice but to bury my feelings deep within my heart.”

“……”

…Is that so?

I could feel Alice’s gaze on .

But she said nothing. Because, as Baroness Grace had said, the one who needed to speak now was .

No matter how much Alice defended , it would an nothing if I had no response of my own.

I took my ti, carefully organizing my thoughts.

And then, I opened my mouth.

“…Mother.”