Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Translation: godsn
As the sun began to set, the forest quickly darkened.
Leila Lewellin stared at the dead bird with unfocused eyes, and Matthias Herhardt stared at Leila. Minutes of silence had passed, but Matthias felt no impatience. Leila was right before him, and she likely wouldn't be able to run away anytime soon.
"Rather than this......"
Eventually, Leila lifted her head. Her eyes, looking at him, held a fury not entirely obscured by the darkness. It was an insolent, audacious gaze—but far better than one that avoided his.
"Tell me directly. What wrong have I committed against you, Your Grace?"
"Wrong?"
"Yes. Tell me what crime I've committed to deserve such... such a horrific punishment."
"I haven't given you any punishment."
Matthias responded with complete seriousness.
"I do what I must, and you do what you must. That's all, Leila."
That was the truth.
"A wrong. Hmm."
Matthias, lost in thought for a moment, looked at Leila with a calm gaze.
"Why do you love birds so much?"
He asked the same question as before, in exactly the same tone as before.
Leila squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. She looked at the darkening sky, at the dead bird, and then back at Matthias. Her shoulders trembled, but her eyes still burned bright. And Matthias still found that amusing—and just a little irritating.
"Because they were always by my side."
Leila Lewellin answered clearly, though her voice carried anger. Yet it held no real intimidation.
"I wandered many places since childhood, but birds were always there—anytime, anywhere. Close by, always. Even when the seasons changed and they flew far away, they would return if I waited. The birds came back."
With each word, Leila's voice grew calmer. Whether it was her soft pronunciation or something else, her voice was almost whisper-like.
"There was never a season without birds. Never a place without them. The fact that the most beautiful and free beings in this world were always beside me—I loved that."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. Though I'm sure such things are meaningless to Your Grace."
Her face looked on the verge of tears, yet she still put on a defiant front.
Matthias let out a low chuckle and stood. The banquet hour was approaching.
"You're not planning to hunt like this again, are you?"
Leila asked urgently as he prepared to leave.
"If necessary."
Matthias answered without hesitation. The despair, the terror, and the stubborn fury that still lingered in Leila's eyes at that moment pleased him immensely.
"Leila."
Changing his mind about leaving, Matthias turned back toward her.
"I want everything in my world to stay in its proper place. Not pointlessly hiding or running away—but exactly where it should be."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Stay in your place."
"I... I don't understand what place you're referring to."
"Think about it."
"Your Grace."
"Who knows? If you find the answer, I might even be a rather kind hunter."
Leaving a stunned Leila behind, Matthias turned away without hesitation.
He didn't particularly want anything from Leila Lewellin. She simply needed to stay in her place—as the orphan living in his woods, as the curious schoolgirl. And if a little more time passed, as the teacher she would become, standing exactly where she should be, as always.
Mounted on his horse, Matthias turned his head to look at the thicket. Leila sat there, curled up small before the dead bird. Her cheeks glistened—she must have been crying. And as he watched those tears, satisfaction settled in Matthias's eyes.
He was born into a world governed by perfect order and would soon become its master. Under that order, everything was simple and clear. Living faithfully according to one's given role and expectations wasn't the least bit difficult—it was almost boring at times. To his grandmother and mother, he was the proud heir. To the servants, a generous master. On the battlefield, an exemplary soldier. To the directors, a capable businessman.
Matthias had always been someone's something, willingly fulfilling whatever role was expected of him. Those who interacted with him were no different. Predetermined roles, attitudes, and refined emotions moved back and forth within their proper boundaries. These were the emotions Matthias had seen, heard, and learned.
But what about that lowly orphan living in his forest?
Matthias's gaze narrowed as he looked at Leila.
She was nothing.
That simple conclusion made him smile.
It was the first time he had possessed something that was nothing. There had never been any gap in Duke Herhardt's life where an unnecessary existence could intrude.
The feeling of having something that, being nothing, didn't need to become anything was unfamiliar but not unpleasant. No—the emotions that insignificant girl displayed beyond their proper boundaries actually pleased him greatly. Like the moment a single shot brought down a bird in flight.
And above all, her tears. He liked Leila when she cried. She was a pretty crier. Pretty enough to make him want to make her cry again and again.
With a lighter heart, Matthias left the forest.
Back at the mansion, the usual routine repeated itself. A boisterous banquet. Hollow, elaborate conversations. Chilled champagne and frothy laughter.
When the short summer night passed and morning came again, Matthias thought it wouldn't be bad to go on another kind hunt next time. Looking out the window at the rose garden, he saw Leila there. Helping the gardener as usual, no different from any other day.
See?
Smiling, Matthias turned from the window.
Easy, Leila.
"Thank you, Leila."
Claudine greeted her kindly. Her friend sitting nearby also offered a smile, the corners of her lips lifting slightly in gratitude.
"Not at all, my lady."
Leila bowed her head politely. On the tips of her white hands, faint traces of plant stains from picking flowers remained. There were also a few wounds where rose thorns had pricked her, still beaded with blood.
"I should—"
"Could you fetch those red roses too? Just a bouquet would suffice."
Claudine's gentle question cut Leila's words short.
Leila turned her head to look where Claudine's finger pointed. It was the central flowerbed where red roses bloomed splendidly.
"Yes, my lady."
As always, Leila obediently accepted the order.
Claudine watched in silence for a long while as Leila walked away, basket and shears in hand again.
She had spotted Leila while strolling through the garden with her visiting friend. After not seeing her for some time, today she was busily assisting the gardener.
Changing their plans for tea, Claudine suggested flower arranging instead. Emilia happily agreed, and soon flower-arranging tools were prepared for the two young ladies beneath the pergola where climbing roses bloomed.
And Leila.
Claudine had a maid fetch Leila as a matter of course. It had always been this way since childhood. Whenever Claudine, who enjoyed flower arranging, settled beneath this pergola, fetching the necessary roses was Leila Lewellin's role.
Though far too lacking to be a playmate, the girl was quite good at running errands. And when boredom became unbearable, calling over that girl to exchange a few words wasn't such a bad thing either.
"That girl, she acts all polite but there's something oddly insolent about it."
Emilia pursed her lips as she watched Leila walk away.
"It's hard to tell whether she knows her place too well or not at all."
"Don't be like that, Emilia. Leila is a pitiable child."
Claudine frowned slightly. The rose stem Leila had just brought her snapped with a crisp snick between the blades of her scissors.
"Of course, I'm aware Leila has that flaw, but we should still show her some grace."
At Claudine's added remark, Emilia smirked.
"Anyway. You're far too generous with the servants."
"Servants who fulfill their duties diligently deserve respect."
Claudine's voice grew lower and softer. The blue-tinged porcelain vase gradually filled with the flower buds she had trimmed.
Before long, Leila returned with a bouquet of red roses. Once again, her manners were impeccable—not a single fault to be found—as she placed them on the table.
Claudine paused and studied Leila. Emilia's assessment of Leila Lewellin was accurate. Even by Claudine's standards, having watched the girl for years, it rang true.
And she thought she might vaguely understand why.
That docile demeanor of Leila Lewellin might actually stem from utter indifference. Even when Claudine von Brandt—a young noblewoman whom the daughters of prestigious families clamored to befriend—bestowed her attention upon her, Leila never showed the slightest excitement or delight. There was hardly any trace of effort to impress or any flirtatious behavior.
Just a quiet, enduring patience.
Claudine was unaccustomed to such indifference. And the fact that it was none other than that orphan, Leila, who stirred this unfamiliar feeling in her, carried a slight sting of humiliation.
"You've worked hard, Leila."
Claudine offered her a sweet smile.
As Leila bowed deeply and withdrew, a maid waiting a few steps away approached. This was the moment Claudine most eagerly anticipated—the moment when a gold coin was pressed into the palm of that prideful orphan, and genuine emotion flickered in Leila Lewellin's eyes.
Even after all these years, Leila still couldn't remain detached in this moment alone. When her slender fingers trembled slightly as she accepted the coin, as if holding a hot potato, Claudine felt a deep satisfaction. Today, however, there was an additional gift—an invitation to a party, a beautiful memory to bestow upon that pitiable child.
"You're giving this... to me?"
Leila's eyes widened as she took the invitation handed to her along with the gold coin. She looked utterly flustered.
"Yes. I requested it, and both ladies have granted their permission."
"But, Young Lady—"
"I'd really love for you to come, Leila."
Claudine cut her off with a voice laced with laughter. The paler Leila's face grew, the brighter Claudine's smile became.
"I trust you wouldn't dare refuse my invitation."
With those final words—warm and affectionate, as if speaking to a longtime friend—Claudine finally averted her gaze from Leila.
Before I become the mistress of Arvis, I'll have to properly tame that stiff little thing.
Calmly reaffirming her duty, Claudine began trimming the red roses.
The vase adorned with Claudine's skilled hands was flawlessly beautiful.