Chapter 20
Chapter 20
Translation: godsn
"You are truly kind, madam."
Mrs. Etman's eyes shone with genuine admiration as she looked at the Old Duchess of the ducal family.
"How could you bestow such great generosity upon us?"
The more her face brightened with joy, the more Kyle Etman beside her grew visibly uncomfortable.
Matthias observed the mother and son with amused interest. He was well aware his grandmother held the family doctor in high regard and had taken quite a liking to his son as well. Dr. Etman was a competent physician with impeccable character, so the fondness was hardly surprising.
No doubt Kyle Etman—who somewhat resembled his father—would lead an equally respectable life unless something unexpected occurred. His grandmother was certain of it, and Matthias agreed.
But that was where his interest ended.
He had no reason to care about such predictable, mundane affairs. Unless, perhaps, it involved Linda Etman, the ambitious mistress of the Etman household who stood in stark contrast to the two men of her family.
"Might we greet them now?"
As if fearing the Old Duchess might change her mind, Mrs. Etman momentarily set aside decorum to press the matter.
"Dear."
Dr. Etman, who had been quietly observing, attempted to dissuade her with gentle dignity, but she showed no signs of relenting.
Matthias shifted his gaze back to Kyle Etman.
His grandmother had just proposed introducing the Etman family to Baron Arndt's household. No one missed the implication behind her words—that the two families, being well-matched in status, might form a friendship. Baron Arndt had a daughter the same age as Kyle Etman. A daughter who would soon need to consider marriage.
Though the Etmans held no title, their wealth far surpassed that of the Arndt family. Their reputation, too, was nothing to scoff at. If the two houses were to become related by marriage, Baron Arndt would likely be the one to benefit.
"Very well, Mrs. Etman. That would be ideal."
With a gracious smile, Katharina von Herhardt summoned a servant. The man swiftly disappeared into the crowd upon receiving orders to fetch Baron Arndt and his wife. Kyle's expression, as he stole glances toward the terrace leading to the garden, had grown too restless to conceal.
As if he'd left something precious behind there.
A faint smirk crossed Matthias's lips as the realization settled.
A mother who doted endlessly on her son, and a son who knew no way to disappoint her. And between them—Leila Lewellin, quietly standing there. The thought nearly made him laugh aloud. Just then, Baron Arndt and his wife arrived, guided by the servant. Naturally, their daughter accompanied them.
Kyle, not entirely oblivious, seemed to grasp the significance of the gathering now. Though his eyes screamed of a desire to flee, the boy clung stubbornly to his role as the dutiful, well-mannered son.
Very well, then.
Matthias took his leave of the tedious matchmaking scene. His steps across the terrace and down the stairs were unhurried, betraying not the slightest haste.
The outcome of the good boy's puppy love was painfully predictable. Leila would be abandoned, left behind here—in his forest.
Just as this clear conclusion formed in his mind, Matthias found her. As expected, she hadn't gone far, needing to wait for the boy. Leila remained beneath the pergola in a secluded corner of the garden.
Matthias slowed his pace further as he approached. He wondered why she wasn't startled into flustered movement as usual—until he saw she was fast asleep. Faint moonlight filtering through the rose bushes illuminated the girl curled up small.
He stopped a short distance from the bench and studied her intently. The neatly removed shoes, the wounded feet, the slender arms wrapped around her knees, the face that looked even more innocent in sleep.
Long strands of hair cascaded over her delicate nape and shoulders. Just as he found himself curious about the texture of those rippling golden locks, Matthias slowly bent to pick up one of her shoes.
That was when Leila's eyes fluttered open.
This must be a dream.
The thought drifted vaguely through her mind. Meanwhile, Matthias had leaned against one of the pergola's pillars facing the bench, holding what appeared to be a woman's shoe in one hand.
Even for a dream, wasn't this too strange?
The flicker of doubt dispelled the last remnants of sleep.
"...Your Grace?"
Unable to believe it even then, she called to him in a whisper. Instead of answering, Matthias drew a cigarette from his pocket and placed it between his lips. The smoke curling white from his lips proved this moment could never be a dream.
Startled as if she were about to faint, Leila tried to stand up, only to belatedly realize that the shoe in his hand was her own. Unable to move forward or back, she first shrank tightly against the edge of the bench. Matthias looked down at her as if watching an amusing spectacle, lazily swinging the shoe.
"Should I give it back?"
A low voice drifted through the pale haze of cigarette smoke.
"Yes."
"Then cry for me, Leila."
His next words were even more languid and cruel.
Stunned by what she had just heard, Leila remained dazed for a moment. She desperately wished Kyle would come, but the path leading to the pergola remained utterly silent.
"He's not coming."
As if reading her mind, the Duke spoke impassively.
"Kyle Etman."
Leila frowned in disbelief, and Matthias whispered again, watching her.
"That boy you're waiting for."
Without hesitation, Matthias discarded his barely smoked cigarette.
By the time the last wisp of smoke had faded, Leila abruptly raised her head.
"No."
Erasing the reluctance to show her injured foot, Leila stood up decisively. Planting both feet firmly on the ground, she willingly faced Matthias. Though she was still afraid of him, she refused to be his plaything any longer.
"Kyle keeps his promises."
"Does he?"
"Yes."
Leila answered with conviction.
"You seem quite confident."
"I know Kyle far better than you do, Your Grace."
Summoning every ounce of courage, Leila spoke clearly and firmly. The Duke, who had been staring down at her impassively, curled his lips into a sneer.
"Confidence shouldn't be misplaced, Leila."
With those words, the Duke stepped closer. Though instinctive fear made her shoulders hunch, Leila did not retreat.
"I... I truly don't understand."
"Don't understand what?"
"Why do you hate me so much, Your Grace?"
Despite her trembling voice, Leila's gaze remained clear and unwavering.
"Because hating you makes me feel good."
He answered calmly, one corner of his mouth lifting.
"It's entertaining when you cry. It's enjoyable to see you beg."
"How can you say such things?"
"Leila, I'm merely answering your question."
Even as Leila stared at him in shock, Matthias remained unfazed.
"You don't act this way toward anyone else—toward anyone but me."
Humiliation threatened to bring tears to her eyes, but Leila barely held them back. Once again, Matthias nodded as if pleased to agree.
"That's right."
"But why only me...?"
"Because it's you."
"What?"
"Because it's Leila—no one else. Because it's you, who are nothing."
His reply was detached and dry. That fact only made Leila feel more wretched.
"I'm sorry, Your Grace."
Struggling not to cry, Leila glared at him. Suddenly, she missed even the relatives who had cast her out for various reasons. Even her drunken uncle had never been this cruel to her.
"I'm truly sorry that someone as insignificant as me dares to remain in Your Grace's domain."
Now, not only her voice but even her clenched fists began to tremble.
"If this was how it would be, why did you allow me to stay in the first place?"
"Leila. Isn't that too heartless?"
"You're already being heartless enough as it is."
No matter how hard she tried to suppress it, a sob seeped into Leila's voice.
"Are you going to cast me out now, too?"
"No."
Matthias's eyes, fixed on her, darkened further.
"Don't worry about that. You're serving your purpose well enough."
"You said I was nothing."
"That is your purpose."
Slowly opening his eyes, Matthias wiped even the last trace of mockery from his lips. His expressionless face looked suffocatingly still and cold.
"That's enough apologies."
Matthias straightened, lifting his head from where he had been leaning toward Leila.
"The Kyle Etman you're waiting for isn't coming."
His hand, which had gestured toward the empty path, brushed against the strands of hair cascading over Leila's shoulder. Terrified, Leila tried to step back but was blocked by the bench, unable to retreat even a single step.
"So, Leila......"
Matthias released the golden strands he had been idly clutching and smoothing, his gaze deepening as he looked at Leila.
"Cry for me."
Even as he issued the cruel command, Matthias remained composed.
"You can curse me too."
The offer, tacked on as if out of generosity, seemed tinged with a faint smile.
He's insane.
Leila had thought so before, but now she was certain. This man was undoubtedly mad.
Kyle Etman had remained detained by his mother even after Matthias returned to the mansion. Whether because they'd taken quite a liking to the prospect of becoming in-laws with the Etman family, Baron Arndt and his wife were displaying considerable goodwill, and Mrs. Etman's reaction wasn't much different. Though Kyle's demeanor had grown noticeably stiff by now, his mother didn't seem particularly concerned about her son's feelings.
Matthias withdrew his interest from that predictable, tedious affair. Blending back into the crowd of familiar faces, he resumed his role as master of Arvis, the Duke of Herhardt.
Leila cried.
Recalling that moment still satisfied Matthias. Unable to contain her fury, she'd trembled violently before fat tears came rolling down. Her reddened rims made the wetness in her eyes shine even clearer. In moments like those, Leila Lewellin's eyes glittered exactly like the jewels he'd hung around her neck, and Matthias loved that.
Since she'd cried so prettily, he'd gladly returned her shoes.
When he turned back while leaving the garden, Leila remained standing in the same spot, still weeping. The thought that they were tears shed because of him—and therefore wholly his—made Matthias's departing steps feel even lighter.
Those tears washed away the petty irritation he'd felt watching Leila escorted into the mansion by Kyle Etman. They cleansed even that indescribable emotion he'd felt when kissing Claudine while gazing at that girl.
Tonight, among all his possessions, Leila was beautiful, and beautiful Leila had wept because of him.
Thus, it was a perfect summer night.
Just as Matthias reached this satisfying conclusion, Leila unexpectedly reappeared. She stood at the edge of the hallway connecting the hall to the terrace, intently searching for someone.
"Kyle Etman."
Matthias murmured the name under his breath.
Leila seemed to have spotted him soon enough. Yet she couldn't bring herself to approach. She appeared to understand what the people surrounding Kyle Etman—especially Baron Arndt's youngest daughter—signified.
After hiding behind a pillar for a long while, Leila approached a passing servant and said something. The servant nodded and began making his way toward Kyle Etman, who by now wore an expression of icy resignation. Meanwhile, Leila left the terrace.
On impulse, Matthias approached that servant.
"Please summon Count Klein for me."
The servant's eyes widened at his command. After a moment's hesitation—glancing toward Kyle Etman as if deliberating—he gave precisely the expected reply.
"Yes, my lord."
Turning on his heel, the servant hurried into the crowd to carry out his orders.
Stepping onto the terrace, Matthias leaned against the pillar where Leila had stood moments ago. She was now walking away along the central garden path. Limping noticeably—her feet must have been in pain—she eventually took off her shoes midway and continued barefoot.
Matthias watched her while waiting for the servant. Of course, Count Klein wouldn't come. Plagued by nervous headaches, he'd only made a brief appearance early in the evening before departing.
By the time Leila disappeared deep into the forest path, the servant returned.
"My apologies, my lord. Sir Klein has already returned home."
"I see."
Matthias nodded with a smile.
"Thank you for your efforts."
With that dismissal, Matthias leisurely left the terrace.
Only then did the servant return to his earlier task. He approached Kyle Etman to deliver some message, and dismay flashed across Kyle's face.
Though Kyle eventually excused himself and rushed onto the terrace, Matthias no longer cared. Leila Lewellin walked surprisingly fast for her small frame. Kyle Etman, delayed as he was, would never catch up now.
Matthias gladly accepted a glass of champagne offered by Liet.
On this beautiful midsummer night, the party was perfect.