Chapter 17
Chapter 17
Translation: godsn
Leila Lewellin, the girl under Bill Remmer's care, had been invited to the Duke's party.
The rumor spread like wildfire among the servants of Arvis Estate. Everyone was bewildered at first, but ultimately clicked their tongues in disapproval. Anyone who'd worked at Arvis for long knew that Young Lady Claudine treated poor Leila like her personal lapdog.
"Just between us, I'll never understand why all you nobles are so downright nasty."
Upon hearing the news, Mrs. Mona the cook stormed over to the cabin that very afternoon, fuming. For Bill Remmer, who'd been resting to escape the midday heat, it was a bolt from the blue.
"Call it 'consideration' all you want—how intimidated do you think that child will feel in such a place?"
"Since when has Leila ever been the type to get intimidated by something like that? She'll just make a brief appearance and come back, that's all."
"Oh for heaven's sake. Men! This is exactly why I say you don't understand anything!"
When Mrs. Mona rolled her eyes, Bill scratched the back of his neck and stubbed out his cigarette.
"I hope she shows them what she's made of this time."
"What in blazes are you on about now?"
"What else? Letting our beautifully dressed Leila knock those highborn ladies down a peg with her looks."
"Now hold on, there's no need to go that far—"
"Look here. Don't tell me you were actually planning to send Leila to the party in her work clothes?"
What's wrong with work clothes?
As Bill made a puzzled face, Mrs. Mona clucked her tongue and shook her head.
"Listen here, Bill Remmer. After all these years, you'd think you'd know how to raise a daughter by now."
"Daughter my foot. I was just... thinking about where to send the girl—"
"That's right. That damn thinking of yours. You'll still be thinking when it's time to marry Leila off, thinking when she gives you grandchildren, thinking even when you're lying in your coffin."
"Now who's talking nonsense about marrying off a child that young? Honestly, the things I have to listen to."
Seeing Bill flare up, Mrs. Mona's lips curved into a gentler smile.
"And yet you claim she's not your daughter. Men—I'll never understand them."
"If you're just going to spout nonsense, get out."
"Let's buy her a pretty dress, Mr. Remmer. Like a surprise gift. She's a girl too—imagine how happy she'd be."
Mrs. Mona spoke in a tone that brooked no argument.
"Leila's not the type to ask for such things, and you're not the type to think of them yourself, so I suppose I'll have to step in. I'll help."
"...How do you mean?"
"You give me the money for the dress, and I'll take care of the preparations."
"Fine, have it your way."
Grumbling all the while, Bill shuffled inside and returned with his money pouch. Never trusting banks, he always kept his savings in that worn pouch.
By the time Mrs. Mona had thoroughly relieved him of funds for both dress and shoes, Leila returned from tending the goats. The two hastily hid all evidence of their transaction and pretended to be engrossed in idle chatter.
Though Leila offered her a cup of tea, Mrs. Mona waved her off and left the cabin. Meanwhile, Bill had artfully concealed the money pouch beneath his backside.
"Was Auntie scolding you about me again? I haven't been caught climbing trees lately."
Leila asked worriedly as she took the seat beside Bill.
"Nothing of the sort, so don't fret over nothing."
Bill cleared his throat and relit the cigarette he'd temporarily stubbed out.
"That's a relief then."
With a bright smile, Leila removed her hat and leaned back deeply into the chair.
Every time he saw the woven straw hat Leila wore daily throughout the summer, Bill felt immensely satisfied. Imagining how much prouder he'd feel seeing her dressed in a fine gown made the money extorted by Mrs. Mona seem well spent.
"Leila."
When he suddenly called her name, she turned her pale eyes toward him.
"What are you planning to do? About that Duke's party."
"I'll just stop by briefly to show my face and come back. Dr. Etman's family was invited too, so I'll be going with Kyle."
"Oh? That gluttonous brat is finally making himself useful for once."
At the mention of Kyle's name, Bill felt a deep sense of relief. Though the boy was a good-for-nothing who did little but eat their food, he was still someone trustworthy.
"Even so, don't you need certain things? Like clothes to wear there, or other such matters."
"It's alright, Uncle."
Leila smiled. That same pure smile she'd had since childhood—the one that always unsettled Bill's heart.
"'Alright' my foot. Were you planning to go in your school uniform?"
"That wouldn't be so bad either."
Leila giggled playfully. Her face looked so utterly unperturbed that Bill found himself sinking into fresh worries.
Had he really been so clueless about raising a daughter?
"No way."
Bill startled himself by muttering aloud.
A daughter? What nonsense.
He shook his head vigorously.
Leila looked at him with a puzzled expression. When he saw her glasses glinting on her small face, his discomfort only grew.
Bill knew well the child's heart—how she strained herself not to be a burden, not to owe anyone. He could understand it too. Yet he never knew how to comfort her properly, always ending up speaking gruffly instead.
At any rate, he became all the more convinced that Mrs. Mona, though somewhat overbearing at times, had done a splendid thing.
"Leila."
Still, Bill mustered his courage once more.
"...The weather's been unbearably hot lately."
Back to square one again.
Feeling ridiculous for spouting such nonsense, Bill coughed awkwardly. Leila laughed aloud and gently took hold of his hand resting on the armrest.
As if she were the one comforting him.
Though he made a sour face, Bill couldn't bring himself to shake off that small hand. For some reason, Leila even flashed him a bright smile. Really, what a beautifully smiling child she was.
Leila woke from sleep without so much as a stir. Dawn had just begun to break, filling the room with a clear ink-blue darkness.
Lying perfectly still, Leila slowly took in her surroundings.
The familiar ceiling. The window with cream-colored curtains. The worn desk. A few books spread across it. The soft blanket that carried the faint scent of sunlight.
This is my room.
Only when she fully recognized reality did a sigh of relief escape her.
She'd had a nightmare—the first in a long while. Memories from the time she'd been left alone in this world, passed between relatives' homes. Before meeting Uncle Bill, nearly every day had been like a recurring nightmare, but the time spent in that house—the one that instilled in her a fear of water—remained particularly vivid and sharp.
'This is all because of that wretched girl!'
On drunken nights, her uncle never failed to vent his rage at Leila. When sober, he'd been a timid, quiet man, but as far as Leila could remember, he'd been drunk at least five days a week. On days he lost money gambling, he grew even more violent, invariably hurling abuse and beatings at Leila.
She'd hated him. Loathed him. But Leila Lewellin, an orphan with nowhere else to go, could only endure and bear it.
Leila tried desperately. She helped with housework without a moment's rest. She strove to eat as little as possible. She stayed quiet as an object placed in a corner. Yet the day finally came when she was driven from that house, and her aunt handed her a paper bag with a few cookies inside. Leila, who'd been silently observing her aunt's bruised face, bowed slightly before accepting it.
In the stagecoach heading toward the next relative's house where she'd have to impose, Leila took out a cookie and ate it. The chocolate cookie was so delicious it made her heart ache.
Still, Leila didn't cry. For the entire journey to her destination, she practiced smiling like a good girl. The more she wanted to cry, the brighter she smiled. Because no one in this world likes a crying orphan. Being cast out again and again, she'd gradually learned to smile better and better.
But on the day she had to cross the border and come all the way to Berg alone, even that didn't work. Though she was young, Leila knew the address clutched in her hand was her last hope. If she were cast out again this time, there would be no escaping the fate of ending up in an orphanage.
Yet she still couldn't forget that day—when she had smiled her hardest, the moment she met Bill Remmer's eyes filled with warmth and pity, or the first step she took over the threshold of this room. She would probably never forget the day she regained a family, a home she could return to.
So it was all right.
Comforting herself, Leila lightly rose from bed.
The ducal ball was tonight. To say she was unaffected would be a lie, but she didn't want to dwell on it too deeply either. She would just attend bravely, stay quietly, and leave when the time came—that was all.
Lady Claudine wouldn't know. That Leila Lewellin was willing to do anything for Bill Remmer and this warm little cabin.
Opening the window, Leila quickly washed her face and changed her clothes. When she swung the door open energetically, Bill was already there, ready to leave for work. Leila walked toward him with a bright smile.
"Let's go together, Uncle!"
By the afternoon, the mansion had finished preparing for its guests. Though it was a grand ball, for the servants of Arvis, it was just another familiar task—almost routine.
Each of them performed their duties skillfully in their assigned places. All that remained was for the sun to set and the dazzling ball to begin. No one in Arvis worried about whether tonight's event would succeed. Like everything else under the name of Herhardt, this evening's ball would be flawless.
Matthias stepped out of the dressing room clad in his evening coat. Brushing his hair back to reveal his forehead and brows made his expression appear even colder. The faint smile lingering at the corners of his lips did nothing to soften the chill of his sharp eyes and severe features.
"Everything has proceeded as you instructed, Master."
Hessen, the butler who had dismissed the attendants, reported quietly. Picking up a cigarette, Matthias raised a brow slightly and turned.
"Since they departed about an hour ago, the prepared items should have been delivered by now."
"I see."
Matthias gave a slight nod of his chin and lit the cigarette between his lips.
"You've done well."
At the reply, accompanied by a faint smile, Hessen bowed his head once more.
The news that Claudine had invited Leila Lewellin to the ball had reached Matthias through his mother's words. Praises for the kind-hearted young lady who generously bestowed mercy and kindness—or something along those lines.
Left alone, it would have been quite entertaining to watch, so Matthias didn't bother objecting. Leila would appear in her shabby state, and Claudine would lavish her with pity and sympathy to her heart's content.
Matthias had a good idea what it was about Leila Lewellin that provoked Claudine. She was certainly an irritating girl, and crushing her pride was rather enjoyable.
That was why.
Because he knew what Claudine wanted, he had no intention of giving it to her. That pleasure should be his alone. Matthias von Herhardt did not share what was his with others.
"How shall we dispose of these items, Master?"
Hessen gestured to a box placed beside the extinguished fireplace. It contained the gifts the chef had prepared in place of Bill Remmer.
Originally meant to be delivered to Bill's cabin today, the gifts had been redirected here through Hessen. And through Hessen, the items he had prepared had been transformed into gifts from Bill and sent to the cabin instead.
Matthias exhaled slowly, smoke curling from his lips as he gazed at the box. Even without opening it, guessing its contents wasn't difficult.
"Throw them away."
His command, drifting out with the cigarette smoke, was utterly indifferent.