Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Translation: godsn
The annex, with its large windows on all sides, offered an unobstructed view of the river and the forest. The free-flowing breeze kept it from getting too hot even in summer.
Yet today was unusually warm. Feeling a chill in such weather was absurd, but Leila shuddered involuntarily, her shoulders hunching. She resolved to finish eating quickly and leave, but the food in front of her remained untouched.
She couldn't bring herself to swallow a single bite. She had already eaten a full lunch and even had snacks. On top of that, running errands in the heat had completely killed her appetite. Matthias, his head slightly tilted, was engrossed in his own affairs, but even so, Leila found it hard to breathe properly.
Was this punishment for her shoddy errands and flower arrangements?
Forcing down a bite of her sandwich, Leila pondered. If that were the case, Duke Herhardt had succeeded. Right now, she truly felt like she was being subjected to a terrible punishment.
To suppress the urge to spit it out, Leila hastily gulped down some lemonade. She wiped the droplets from her hands onto her apron and picked up another piece of sandwich. To hide her miserable expression, she pulled the brim of her hat even lower. That was when long fingers suddenly brushed against the tip of her chin.
"A lady, Leila."
Those fingers flicked at the ribbon tied beneath her chin, loosening the knot.
"Should remove such hats indoors."
Before Leila could protest, Matthias plucked the straw hat from her head.
Startled, she jerked upright reflexively. The sandwich in her hand tumbled to the floor. Matthias's eyes narrowed, but Leila, too focused on her hat, didn't notice.
"P-please give it back."
Her voice trembled now not with fear but with anger.
"Give it back, Your Grace. I—I want to leave now. I want to go home. Give it back."
Matthias clenched the stolen hat in his fist, as if to say he had no intention of returning it. Her reaction—as if she'd been stripped bare just from having her hat taken—was amusing. The flush creeping up Leila's neck entertained him. Her skin, delicate as it was, reacted easily to the slightest provocation.
"Eat."
Matthias pointed at the two remaining pieces of sandwich.
"Eat, get your hat, and then leave. Simple."
"No. I don't want to."
Leila twisted away but stepped closer to him.
"I don't want to eat. I can't. I don't want to."
Her frightened eyes quivered. She looked like she didn't even realize what she was saying.
Matthias tightened his grip on the hat and rose from his chair. His shadow loomed over Leila.
"...Don't want to?"
"I was wrong, so please give it back. Okay?"
Leila stretched out her hand, rising onto her tiptoes. She looked on the verge of tears. Matthias studied her face silently before slowly raising the hat in his hand above her head. Leila's gaze followed the movement.
The moment her eyes locked fully onto him, Matthias tossed the hat lightly out the window. It caught the wind and drifted gently onto the river's surface. Leila shot him an icy glare before bolting out of the drawing room in a frenzy.
Matthias approached the window overlooking the dock and the river. Soon, Leila appeared on the dock, stomping her feet in frustration as she spotted the hat floating on the water. Then, abruptly, she pulled off her apron and glasses and set them aside.
Was she really going to jump into the river just to retrieve that ridiculous hat?
Standing by the window, Matthias watched Leila with keen interest. Despite her bold actions, she was trembling violently—as if terrified of the water.
And yet.
Just as he smirked, pulling up one corner of his mouth, Leila stepped into the river. After a brief hesitation, she began wading toward where the hat floated. Even as the water rose past her knees, her waist, and soon her chest, Leila Lewellin didn't stop.
Matthias stood with his arms loosely crossed, watching the absurd spectacle unfold.
Leila stretched her hand as far as she could, but the hat had drifted even farther away with the current. Anyone else might have given up by now, but Leila stubbornly took one step, then another, toward the hat.
At that depth, the water must already be over your head.
As Matthias slowly tilted his head, Leila—who had been flailing uselessly—finally managed to grab the end of the hat's ribbon. At the same moment, Leila Lewellin disappeared beneath the water's surface.
"Just as I thought."
Matthias muttered under his breath, his brow furrowing. Leila had drowned precisely where he had predicted. Though she thrashed desperately in shock at the sudden depth, the more she struggled, the more the current dragged her deeper. All the while, she clung to the hat as if it were her own lifeline.
Finally unfolding his arms, Matthias strode toward the dock with long, purposeful steps. His prediction had been correct in one more regard: Leila Lewellin, who couldn't even swim, had recklessly jumped into the river without a shred of fear.
Stopping at the edge of the dock, Matthias gazed down at Leila flailing in the water. As she surfaced and sank repeatedly, her screams grew thinner and weaker.
Eat, retrieve the hat, and leave.
And yet, all this commotion over something so simple.
With a sigh escaping through his twisted lips, Matthias dove into the river.
The wooden planks of the dock, warmed by the sun, burned against her cheek. Only after feeling that vivid sensation did Leila truly realize she had been safely pulled from the water. Relief washed over her—followed immediately by pain and terror.
Leila coughed violently, her body trembling uncontrollably. Even then, she refused to loosen her grip on the rescued hat.
The sight was so absurd that Matthias let out a dry laugh, his breathless panting mingling with low amusement. Leila Lewellin only noticed him when droplets from her soaked body had already darkened the wooden planks beneath her.
"How... could you... do this...?"
Gasping as if her breath might fail at any moment, Leila forced out each word with deliberate effort. Her glare was sharp, her eyes blazing—made even more striking by the tears welling in them.
Sweeping back the wet strands of hair clinging to his forehead, Matthias looked down at her with unmistakable amusement. As his breathing steadied, his laughter grew louder.
Leila pushed herself up on trembling hands, the scorching wood beneath her palms. Water cascaded from her soaked hair like rain. Though her eyes were red and swollen, she didn't cry. Instead, she glared at Matthias with wide, furious eyes—at that wretched man who was laughing so cheerfully.
Changing her mind about speaking, Leila staggered to her feet. Matthias lounged on the wooden planks as if sunbathing, leisurely looking up at her. The thin, drenched fabric clung to her body, revealing every curve with startling clarity.
Just as Matthias's gaze settled on her trembling shoulders, Leila suddenly shook the hat with force, flinging droplets everywhere.
Matthias didn't flinch as the cold water splattered against his face. Though startled, Leila didn't stop her petty revenge. She plopped the still-dripping hat onto her head, then shook out her skirt with equal vigor. Her glare at Matthias sparkled with defiance.
"Having fun?"
Matthias wiped his face slowly, as if washing it, before speaking.
"I was just about to stop."
His laughter vanished in an instant, his expression turning as cold as the river in midsummer. Though instinctive fear made her flinch, Leila refused to look away.
"How... could you... why would you do this to me?"
"Leila," Matthias said, slowly rolling up the soaked sleeve of his shirt, "manners first."
"A thank you to the man who saved your life."
He remained utterly composed, taunting her as she stared at him in disbelief.
"If Your Grace hadn't thrown my hat into the river in the first place, none of this would have happened."
"No."
Matthias's brow gradually narrowed.
"If you had just quietly eaten your sandwich and stayed put, this wouldn't have happened."
Leila's breath caught in her throat as she blinked rapidly. The Duke's tone was far too composed for it to be a joke.
"Or perhaps if you hadn't foolishly jumped into the water without knowing how to swim."
Matthias tilted his head slightly, flicking away the water droplets trailing down his fingertips with a casual motion.
"......Thank you for saving me, Your Grace."
Suppressing her anger, Leila bowed her head. Uncle Bill, Uncle Bill, Uncle Bill. She repeated the name like a frantic mantra in her mind.
"Again."
The Duke, who had been scrutinizing her as if appraising an object, issued the command in a low voice.
"Like a lady. Again."
This time, too, he did not smile.
"I apologize, Your Grace, but I am not a noble young lady like those of aristocratic households."
Even her deep affection for Uncle Bill couldn't hold back the anger that finally spilled from her lips. Matthias merely stared at her with unshaken eyes, utterly unfazed.
"Yet you must still act like a lady in my presence, Leila."
With a flick of his finger, Matthias sent a droplet of water splashing onto the ground at Leila's feet.
"No matter what you are, I am still a gentleman."
And then, the Duke smiled. His calm eyes remained fixed on her, the curve of his lips the only sign of amusement.
Leila clenched the soaked hem of her skirt in her white-knuckled grip. Then, facing the Duke, she performed the graceful, dignified bow he so desired—every movement the epitome of aristocratic propriety. Water droplets from the brim of her straw hat pattered onto the wooden dock like rain.
"I am truly grateful for Your Grace's saving my life."
Though her body trembled enough for her teeth to clatter, Leila enunciated each syllable precisely as she bowed. Matthias gave a slight nod of his chin, as if awarding her ladylike curtsy a passing grade.
Don't cry, Leila Lewellin.
Leila clenched her fists, pressing her eyelids shut with all her might.
Don't cry because of someone like him. Please.
Steeling herself, she straightened her back, rising from the bow she had forced herself to make.
"Then I shall take my leave now. Goodbye, Your Grace."
Without waiting for Matthias's response, Leila turned decisively on her heel. The sound of her brisk footsteps echoed behind her, the trail of water dripping from her skirt stretching long in her wake.
Her legs threatened to give way several times, but she desperately steadied herself. Gritting her teeth, she swore—she wouldn't fall today. She wouldn't let herself become that man's plaything anymore. Never.
Once she was out of Matthias's sight, Leila broke into a run. The rims of her eyes had reddened beyond what the shade of her hat could conceal. Hating it, she only ran faster.
She had once seen him by chance—walking along a forest path with Claudine. The image of him as an elegant gentleman escorting a beautiful girl had seemed like a scene straight out of a fairy tale or a courtly romance.
When they reached the end of the path, a gust of wind had blown Claudine's hat away. Matthias had walked leisurely to the roadside, picked it up, and returned it to her. His unhurried movements had been breathtakingly graceful. He always moved like that, she remembered—just as the two of them disappeared from her sight.
Today, he had humiliated her with those same beautiful gestures. The clarity of that truth stopped her in her tracks.
Pale-faced, Leila staggered into the tall grass and retched up the food she had forced herself to eat earlier. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she did not cry.
Once the nausea subsided, she made her way to a shallow brook winding through the forest and rinsed her mouth. Resting for a while beneath the trees, she felt slightly better.
After wiping her lips with the back of her hand, Leila returned to the path leading to her cabin. Too exhausted to run, she dragged her feet as she walked, kicking up dust that clung to her damp stockings and skirt. But her appearance was already a mess—what did a little more dirt matter?
As the cabin came into view, Leila mustered the last of her strength and kicked a hazelnut lying on the path. Watching the innocent nut roll away, she suddenly winced—realizing the fatal mistake she had just made.
"My glasses...!"
Feeling her face, Leila's expression crumpled. The path back stretched endlessly before her.