I'm Going Through Time to Meet You
Chapter 4

Leaning against the counter, Eleanor answered awkwardly.

Hearing that there were more applicants than usual made her feel guilty. If fewer people had applied, she would’ve felt better, knowing her entry wouldn’t deny someone else a spot.

Still, she sighed. “I can’t give up... but I do feel sorry.”

If she could find out which student lost their spot because of her, she would make sure to repay them somehow.

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” the clerk reassured her. “The magic department is always highly competitive, so it doesn’t make much of a difference. It’s one of the most popular departments, after all. It’s the quickest and most certain way to rise in status... if you’ve got the talent, that is.”

It wasn’t clear if most applicants would find the clerk’s reassurance truly reassuring, but Eleanor sighed and agreed with a nod. “That’s true.”

The magic department at the Imperial Academy was so popular that even in her small kingdom of Antre, people studied to gain admission. Like Isabella, the only heir of the Rivellon Duchy, who had applied to the Academy herself.

If her mother hadn’t attended the Academy, everything would have been different. Eleanor smiled bitterly at the thought.

The clerk, noticing her expression, gave her a wink and added cheerfully, “Plus, students from small countries tend to apply at the very last minute, so the numbers go up. Anyway, just bring your documents to the Academy gate by 9 a.m. tomorrow for the first exam.”

Eleanor took back her ID from the clerk.

Unable to stop staring at Eleanor’s distinctive hair, the clerk wished Eleanor good luck.

“Thank you,” Eleanor replied, turning away quickly. She could finally breathe a sigh of relief now that she’d registered for the exam. She carefully folded the documents and tucked them away. She didn’t seem nervous about the upcoming exam at all.

Failure was never a concern for her. She didn’t know how skilled the mages of this era were, but if she were to fail the entrance exam, she would not be a Master mage.

Her worries lay elsewhere.

Will I get to meet my mother during the entrance exam?

Eleanor chuckled to herself as she pondered what to say to her mother when they finally met.

It had been ten years. Ten years since Isabella, after giving birth to Eleanor, had withered away and left this world.

The force of time had faded her memories; she could hardly recall her mother’s face now without looking at a portrait. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart, and turned away.

Swoosh—

A cold winter wind brushed against Eleanor’s cheek. She blinked slowly, unable to believe what she was seeing.

The clerk’s words echoed in her mind: students from distant provinces often registered at the last minute.

Antre was indeed a small kingdom, far from the empire. Twenty-four years ago, there was no transcontinental train. One had to travel by horse or carriage, which would have taken more than just a day or two.

Without realizing it, Eleanor whispered in a daze, “Mother.”

She had thought her mother’s face had blurred with time. Her face wouldn’t come to mind when she closed her eyes, so she had to search her memory by looking at portraits.

Eleanor’s lips trembled. No one had told her that this woman was Isabella, yet she recognized her at first glance. Tears fell silently from her eyes as she quickly turned her head to wipe them away. She couldn’t show up in tears at their first meeting.

Wiping her eyes with her sleeve, Eleanor tried to calm her racing heart as she approached the counter where Isabella stood.

“This way, young duchess.”

Isabella didn’t cower in the presence of the empire’s nobility. And when she turned her head in Eleanor’s direction, it was purely by chance.

Huh?

Eleanor stopped in her tracks, blinking at the sight of Isabella’s familiar yet unfamiliar face. She stood still in the cold, gusty wind with a large question mark hovering above her head.

“Ellie, do you know how adorable I was when I was young? You don’t believe me? Oh, Ellie, you would have wanted to be my friend so badly! You see, my dear, you’re just like your mother! Now, stop crying! If anyone says something foolish, just give them a good slap and tell them, ‘Ellie is the lovely daughter of the Duchess of Rivellon!’ What? His Highness said that? Well, maybe don’t slap the prince then... Just give him a little noogie when no one’s looking...”

A faint memory flashed through Eleanor’s mind.

When she was little, she often cried because she didn’t look like her mother. Every time, her mother would scoop her up and whisper these words to her as if sharing a secret. Her mother’s eyes crinkled like crescent moons, and her endless laughter was so beautiful that Eleanor would stop crying and listen to her mother’s words.

But now—

Eleanor took out the letter she had been planning to give her mother when they met again.

To my beloved mom,

Hello, Mom.

It’s been ten years since you left.

Do you remember the promise we made when I last held your hand? Just wait, I’ll come find you.

Just as you were my best friend, my everything, I’ll come to make your teenage years shine brighter than anyone’s.

We’ll chat all night under the covers and go out for coffee.

It won’t be long now.

We’ll meet soon, Mother.

I love you.

— Your jewel, your pride, your flower, Eleanor.

She looked up. There was her mother. She looked down again. There was the letter.

Eleanor had traveled twenty-four years back, after ten years apart, to be reunited with her mother, who now stood before her with eyes as cold and distant as ice.

As soon as their eyes met, Isabella turned her head away without a second thought.

Eleanor chuckled softly, muttering, “Mother, weren’t you an incredibly shy, sweet, and sensitive girl when you were young?”

She looked up again.

At the end of her gaze stood her mom, too cold and intimidating to approach. Eleanor was suddenly reminded of a cheesy line from a romance novel—“O, flower atop a snowy peak!”

She had imagined they would become fast friends upon meeting again, but that wouldn’t be the case. Eleanor chuckled ruefully.

Nothing in life was ever easy.

***

Had it been anyone else, Eleanor might have stepped back. She knew all too well how hard it was to mend a broken relationship.

But this was Isabella. Her mother. The woman she had dreamed of seeing again for ten long years.

She wasn’t going to back down after coming this far. She had waited too long for this moment.

Besides, Eleanor wasn’t the type to give up on a long-held dream because of one small setback.

What’s life without challenges?

That was why she found herself following Isabella. Normally, stalking someone would evoke a sense of secrecy or unease.

But Eleanor was busy smiling to herself as she followed her mother. Eleanor proudly watched her mother, even at such a young age, take command of her surroundings.

As expected of my mother. She’s not at all intimidated by the empire’s nobles!

Eleanor’s chest puffed out with pride. She was reminded of the countless tales she’d heard of Isabella’s exploits since childhood.

In Antre, stories about Isabella’s heroics were widely circulated. In the small kingdom of Antre, known only for its abundant wheat production, Isabella was an object of adulation as the most talented mage of her time. With her beauty, her mastery of enchantment magic, and her status as the sole heir of the Rivellon ducal house, Isabella had everything one needed to be worthy of adoration.

Isabella, having finished her introductions with an imperial noble, crossed the central avenue.

There is someone I’d like to introduce to you, Your Grace. They should arrive shortly.

Eleanor followed her mother into a small café. She wondered why they hadn’t taken a carriage, but the café turned out to be so close to the Academy that one could see it down the street.

Eleanor took a seat across from Isabella, keeping a low profile and avoiding eye contact. The imperial noble who had accompanied them had already left.

There were no nobles, no crowds. The small café was so quiet that it felt almost peaceful.

Isabella sat still, her posture perfect. If her shoulders hadn’t moved slightly, Eleanor might have thought she’d been frozen by a curse.

This made her come off as quite lonely in Eleanor’s eyes.

Looking at her mother seated by the window with a delicate teacup before her, Eleanor couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness.

Eleanor clasped her hands neatly, stealing glances at her mother’s profile.

She couldn’t get enough of it. She could sit here for days, just watching. Seeing her mother at seventeen in the flesh, not just in a portrait—if that wasn’t a miracle, then what was? Eleanor took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart.

Among all the portraits of Isabella, Eleanor had always liked the one of her at seventeen the most. It had been painted before she left for the empire, full of excitement, anxiety, hope.

Perhaps that was why the seventeen-year-old Isabella didn’t seem so unfamiliar to Eleanor.

But still, something felt off. Maybe it was because only Eleanor knew that Isabella was her mother.

Eleanor touched the letter in her pocket, smiling bittersweetly.

If I run up and shout ‘Mother,’ she’ll think I’m a crazy person.

Telling her the truth would be hard even if they became close. But for now, becoming friends was the first step.

With that thought, Eleanor’s eyes lit up. When would be the best opportunity to approach her?

Eleanor didn’t even touch her tea, distracted as she was. That’s why she didn’t notice when the door silently opened or when a pair of eyes briefly landed on her.