Chapter 22
Chapter 22
Translation: godsn
Matthias turning his steps in that direction had been an impulsive choice.
Until dinner, he had planned to stay in the annex and catch up on backlogged work. That had certainly been his intention when he left the mansion. But suddenly, when he glanced around, he found himself standing on the path leading to the gardener's cottage.
He paused briefly, but Matthias didn't turn back.
Everything had been flowing smoothly and in perfect order. It was that kind of day. It had to be. This strange sense of unease would surely be washed clean away by just a few tears from that woman.
Matthias lengthened his stride and began walking down the shadowed forest path. He loosened his tie, letting it hang slack, and undid one button of his firmly fastened shirt. His fingers were slightly more impatient and rough than usual.
Losing control of his emotions was abhorrent to him.
Matthias wanted everything in the world under his jurisdiction to remain in its proper place. His own emotions were no exception. That was precisely why he made a point of not fixating on women.
Sexual desire was nothing more than a simple instinct. And Matthias had never been one to cling to it or be swayed by it. If anything, he found it bothersome—something to be adequately satisfied and then set aside. Truth be told, he'd never been the type to harbor particularly strong desires in that regard.
Which was why his own hypersensitivity toward Leila disgusted him all the more. Only she came into focus. All his senses concentrated, and an uncontrollable heat built from deep within his body. There were even moments when his willpower failed to sever the vulgar impulses and thoughts.
Matthias found no pleasure in those moments of realizing he was ensnared by such base things. They weren't matters worthy of life's priorities. Leila Lewellin was no different. Of course she wasn't. He wanted to confirm that.
As the cottage drew nearer, the forest shadows gradually thinned.
Matthias, who had been quietly gazing at the piercing summer light, stepped into that radiance without hesitation.
Leila had chanced upon a baby bird.
It happened as she was returning after seeing Kyle off. Following a pitiful chirping sound, she found a fledgling fallen beneath a tree in the backyard. It was a fragile little thing, just beginning to grow its feathers.
"You fell, didn't you?"
Cradling the baby bird carefully in her hands, Leila looked up at the tree. As she'd guessed, there was a nest up there. It was quite high, but fortunately the fledgling didn't seem seriously hurt.
"It's okay. I'll take you home."
After soothing the bird with gentle strokes, Leila tucked it into her apron pocket and hurried to the shed to fetch a ladder.
She nimbly climbed the ladder propped firmly against the tree. The nest was on a branch slightly higher than the ladder's reach, requiring her to climb the tree from that point. Normally this wouldn't have been difficult, but with the baby bird in her pocket, her movements became far more cautious.
Upon reaching near the nest, Leila wrapped one arm around a branch while reaching into her apron pocket. Stretching her arm to its limit, she just managed to return the fledgling to its nest. But her relief was short-lived—she accidentally released her grip on the branch she'd been holding with her other hand.
Her body tilted off balance, and the world spun. Though she desperately grabbed the end of another branch to hang on, the ladder had already toppled to the ground below. To make matters worse, the slender branch supporting her full weight began cracking ominously.
"Mr. Bill! Mr. Bill!"
Terrified, Leila cried out reflexively. It took several desperate calls before she remembered that Mr. Bill wasn't home.
"Kyle!"
Though she knew Kyle must already be quite far away, Leila called his name with a sob. If not Mr. Bill, then Kyle. To Leila, that was only natural. Then came an unexpected voice.
"Leila."
A soft voice sang her name. Even as her mind went blank with terror, Leila instantly recognized who it belonged to. When she managed to lower her frightened gaze, there he stood—none other than Duke Herhardt himself. He looked utterly at ease, as if merely observing her predicament for entertainment.
After leisurely examining the fallen ladder and the half-broken branch, he slowly shifted his gaze to Leila, who was dangling precariously.
"Shall I save you?"
Unbelievably, he was smiling. Why did it have to be this madman?
"No!"
Even in the face of imminent danger, Leila stubbornly refused. Knowing it was futile, she still thrashed, trying to grip the tree trunk—only for the already half-snapped branch to sway even more dangerously.
"Kyle! Kyle!"
Terrified, Leila screamed his name like a shriek. Matthias glanced toward the path Kyle had taken and let out a short laugh.
"He's not coming."
Matthias crossed his arms with infuriating leisure.
How can anyone be this heartless? Not even a shred of concern for someone in danger?
The absurdity of it struck Leila immediately. Of course. Expecting basic human decency from this lunatic Duke was a mistake to begin with.
"Go away!"
Fury choked her voice.
"If you're not going to help, then leave! Why are you just standing there?!"
"You'll fall soon enough. Shouldn't I call for help when that happens?"
"What?!"
"I'm not that heartless."
The smile that curled Matthias's lips looked almost drowsy.
"I'll call that Etman boy you're so desperate for."
Oh, for heaven's sake.
Leila couldn't even muster words anymore—just ragged, furious breaths.
"But looking at the height, I think we'll need his father instead."
Damn it all.
She was ready to unleash every curse she knew at him, but before she could—
"...S-save me!"
She'd rather die than beg this man, but fear drowned out her pride.
"Oh?"
At last, Matthias uncrossed his arms and leisurely shrugged off his jacket.
"Then call for me."
"What?"
"Call my name."
He took a few steps forward, only to pause again, watching her expectantly. As if he'd happily stand there and watch her fall without lifting a finger unless she complied. And Leila knew—he absolutely would.
"Your Grace, please!"
Her voice cracked with desperation.
"Your Grace!"
As the moment of her fall loomed closer, her cries grew more frantic.
Even as the branch finally snapped, she kept calling for him—over and over. Her mind whited out, the memory blurred, but she was certain she did.
And then—he moved.
With startling speed, Matthias lunged forward, catching Leila in a firm embrace before she could hit the ground. The impact sent them both tumbling, but he never loosened his grip, holding her tightly against him as they rolled.
Dust swirled around them before slowly settling. The world spun in Leila's dazed mind before reality seeped back in.
It was unbelievably warm. Too warm for someone who'd just fallen from a height. Only belatedly did she realize—it was Matthias. Or rather, the safety of his arms around her. Duke Herhardt lay beneath her, cushioning her completely. Not a single scratch on her.
His heartbeat thudded against her chest. His arms—wrapped around the back of her head and waist—were unyielding. When she tentatively lifted her face, the nape of his neck met her gaze, warm and smooth, carrying a faint scent of something like mint. Heat flared from her cheeks, spreading like wildfire through her body.
Horrified, Leila squirmed violently. But the more she struggled, the tighter his hold became. Pressed this close, he felt overwhelmingly large, solid—and the unfamiliar sensations only made her thrash harder in denial.
"Stay still."
Matthias issued the command in a low, sighing voice. But Leila, who couldn't possibly understand the meaning behind his words, only struggled more fiercely against him.
No.
She shuddered at the growing heat between them.
This is absurd. No.
She wanted to scream, but her voice refused to come out. Meanwhile, Matthias's body, wrapped around her, grew increasingly warmer. The hands cradling the back of her head and spine tightened with greater force. Every sensation was so unfamiliar, so strange—it was unbearable.
Leila writhed in instinctive fear, desperate to escape him. But the harder she resisted, the more powerless she felt. No matter what she did, she couldn't push him away. In a moment of sheer terror, she blindly sank her teeth into the Duke's ear.
"Ah—!"
Matthias let out a low groan and shoved her back. It was absurd—this trembling, furious creature before him was nothing like the defiant girl who had just bitten him. And yet, the audacity in her eyes was unmistakable. He couldn't help but laugh dryly.
"Be a lady, Leila."
His hand, which had been rubbing his bitten ear, suddenly tangled in her hair. By the time she realized it, Leila was already lying flat on her back, staring up at Matthias with dazed eyes. His face filled her vision, looking down at her.
"And this is how you repay me for saving your life? Don't you think that's rather unladylike?"
"You're no gentleman, so why should I have to be a lady?"
Leila turned her flushed face away, still struggling to push him off. But Matthias seized her chin, forcing her to look at him. His grip was as scorching as sunlight.
"Didn't you once call me the perfect gentleman?"
"...N-No! I was mistaken!"
"Oh?"
"A real gentleman—if you were one—would never do something so... so unthinkable—!"
Her voice trembled, on the verge of tears, as she fought uselessly against him. When she rubbed at her lips as if something filthy had touched them, Matthias's gaze darkened.
"Let me go."
Leila glared at him through narrowed eyes.
"I don't want—Ah!"
Her words dissolved into a sharp cry as Matthias suddenly bit down on her ear. Before she could even react, his teeth sank into the delicate flesh.
He pinned her flailing hands to the ground, trapping her beneath him, then licked and gnawed at the small ear as if savoring it. Leila's breath hitched, her gasps mingling with muffled whimpers.
Matthias had meant to return the bite in kind—but he changed his mind. Instead, he tormented her with relentless pressure, biting down hard on the wet lobe until she twisted beneath him with a moan. Her sobbing breaths were damp and feverish. Pressing his weight down on her thrashing limbs, he marked her reddened ear with the imprint of his teeth.
When he finally lifted his head with a satisfied smirk, Leila lay beneath him in disarray. Her wide, tear-filled eyes were clouded with confusion, her lips—parted from panting—darker than usual.
He crushed her fingers in his grip, then swallowed her mouth in a searing kiss.
Leila gasped, clamping her lips shut, but he easily overpowered her resistance.
This sweltering summer will end soon.
He knew it well—but he couldn't stop.
His tongue pushed in as if devouring her, sucking, swallowing. Between their tangled lips, the mingling of saliva, moans, and ragged breaths grew louder.