Chapter 24
Chapter 24
Translation: godsn
The four days Leila spent alone were utterly bizarre.
Following the man's words that she'd initially taken as a joke, she walked around locking all the windows and even brought the hunting rifle hanging in his room to place beside her bed.
Despite taking every possible precaution before bed, Leila kept tossing and turning. She'd startle awake at owls' cries and suffer from sudden nightmares. Between dreams of being beaten or abandoned, the man's face would sometimes flicker through. And whenever that happened, the memory of that kiss would also surface, making her dreams sink deeper like a swamp.
Then when dawn came, days that felt eternal would follow.
Leila moved ceaselessly. She tended to the livestock, worked in the garden, swept and scrubbed every corner of the already clean house. She washed all the curtains and bedding and organized the storage shed. She couldn't read or study as usual—strangely, the words wouldn't register in her mind.
Yet the days dragged on unbearably long, and Leila was alone. Pacing restlessly only led to another night of nightmares.
On the morning of the fourth day, as she tightly tied her apron strings and stepped into the backyard, Leila abruptly stopped in her tracks, rooted to the spot.
How strange. Bill spent most of his days at work, and except when helping him, Leila had always gone about her own routine of household chores and studies.
Even when together, they hadn't done everything side by side. They'd simply shared meals at the table, returned in the evenings to a warmly lit house to talk about their uneventful days, and so on...
"This is the first time."
Leila blankly murmured the realization that had just struck her.
Not a single day had passed since she'd been driven to Berg and met Bill where she'd been apart from him. Bill had always been by Leila's side, and she had never been alone for even one day. Without fail, Bill had been there at the start and end of each day.
But now she was alone.
This belated realization after four days brought another epiphany—just how lonely, sorrowful, and terrified little Leila Lewellin had been, wandering the world all by herself.
It took Leila a long while before she could move again. Even as she fed the chickens and milked the goats, she kept glancing toward the far side of the yard.
Her longing for the man's return had now become as fervent as prayer. If only Bill would come back, everything would be alright. If she wasn't alone anymore, the sorrow of having to grow up, the memory of that horrific first kiss, all this confusion and helplessness—it would all disappear.
"Kyle Etman."
Hearing his name suddenly called from behind, Kyle turned with a start. His father stood behind the chair—he hadn't noticed when he'd approached.
"Yes, Father."
Kyle quickly rose. On the desk lay a book open to the same page it had been for days—unchanged since that evening when he'd declared to his father that he would marry Leila.
"You're back early."
Kyle alternated glances between the still-bright window and his father's face. Dr. Etman's lips curved gently as he looked at his son.
"It's the weekend, Kyle."
"Huh? Oh, already?"
"I won't ask where your mind has been. I think I know without asking."
Dr. Etman gave a low chuckle as he took the chair Kyle had just vacated. It meant he had something lengthy to discuss. Slightly nervous, Kyle pulled up another chair across the table to face his father.
That evening, his father had given no answer. After a long silence, he'd simply told Kyle to take a few days to think it over. Kyle knew all too well that no words would work on his father when he wore that expression and spoke in that tone.
So he waited. Enduring the excruciatingly slow movement of the clock hands while suppressing his urge to run to Leila. He couldn't hurt her with uncertain promises.
"I understand how you feel. How much you care for Leila. But Kyle, you're both still too young to be talking about marriage."
"But Father, you married Mother the very year you entered medical school, didn't you?"
"That was already twenty years ago."
"Young Lady Brandt, who's only a year older than Leila, is getting engaged next week."
"That's..."
"And the young lady from House Arndt that Mother introduced me to was the same age as Leila."
Despite his stiff expression, Kyle countered each point methodically. Dr. Etman eventually laughed.
"It seems your feelings are far more serious than I thought."
"I know I'm still young. I also know what you're worried about."
"If you understand all that, does that mean Leila is so special you'd stubbornly insist like this—so unlike your usual self?"
"Yes."
Kyle answered without a moment's hesitation. To him, it was as natural as breathing—something that didn't even require thought.
"About helping Leila attend university—yes, there are ways. Our family could become her sponsor."
Dr. Etman's gaze as he looked at his son was both gentle and grave.
"Leila is a good girl. Kind-hearted and clever. I know that well, Kyle. If she wishes to attend university, I'm willing to sponsor her."
"Of course, I truly want Leila to continue studying what she loves. But Father, what I want most is to marry her."
"Marriage isn't just about the two of you."
"Family background, conditions, appearances and prestige—I'm not saying those things don't matter at all."
"Then why are you being so stubborn about this?"
"No matter how important those things are, Father, they can't be more important than the person I'll spend my entire life with."
"Kyle."
"I want to become a good doctor, live as a good husband and father—just as you have, Father. But Father, for me, all of that begins with Leila."
Though his heart now pounded as if trying to leap from his chest, Kyle endured it and continued voicing the thoughts he'd long held.
"I want to live with Leila, by her side, as someone good for her. As her good husband, as a good father to the children we might have."
He could feel his face gradually heating up, but Kyle didn't stop.
"With Leila's name beside mine, everything feels so natural—but without her name... Father, then all of this feels utterly meaningless to me."
Kyle's voice, now free of tremors, was clear and resolute.
"I don't have the confidence to live that life without her."
Clasping his hands on his knees, he raised his head to meet his father's gaze.
"I think even the version of me that you and Mother love contains Leila. Perhaps she's the one who shaped the best parts of me."
Dr. Etman regarded his serious son with equally solemn eyes.
"I don't want to lose that Leila."
Kyle's eyes shone with determination.
"Please help me protect Leila, Father."
Evening came, but Bill Remmer still hadn't returned.
Having exhausted all possible household tasks to focus on, Leila sat blankly in a chair on the porch, waiting for him. Bill's empty chair felt conspicuously large.
Could there have been an accident?
The ominous thought flashing through her mind made Leila bolt upright. She remembered reading a newspaper article about a train accident once. And it wasn't just trains—carriages and automobiles frequently had accidents too.
Pacing circles around the yard, Leila finally gathered her courage as sunset began and headed toward the mansion's entrance. It was a path she hadn't dared approach for days, too afraid of encountering the Duke.
With each step, she thought of Bill.
As a child, Leila had made a habit of always assuming the worst. Unprepared misfortune was too devastating. If she made even minimal preparations, perhaps she could face that misfortune with just a little more composure.
When relatives' eyes began showing displeasure, she prepared for coming hardships. Don't cry even if hit. You'll hear cruel words, but don't let them wound you. Until the moment you're driven out, remain polite and brave. Try to smile brighter on the way to the next home.
Perhaps those efforts had borne fruit—Leila found herself a little less wounded, a little better at smiling. Misfortune generally arrived exactly as she had anticipated, but having prepared herself, she could endure it with relative ease.
But when it came to Uncle Bill, she wasn't so sure.
"Uncle..."
Chanting his name like a spell, Leila had unknowingly passed through the mansion's entrance.
Uncle Bill wasn't the kind of man who would abandon her. He wouldn't just... not come back. But if he didn't, then that would mean—
Please come back.
Now, as if in prayer, Leila clasped her hands tightly together.
Don't leave me alone. Please.
It was almost laughable—just four days ago, she had been the one comforting him over his worries. But now, faced with those same four days, she felt utterly powerless.
'Mom, where are you going?'
Young Leila had asked her mother innocently, clutching the beautiful glass jar of candy she had been given for the first time in her life. That day, her mother had been as lovely as the candies in her hand.
'Far away.'
Her mother had stared down at her for a long moment before answering curtly.
'Then... will you come back late?'
Eager to eat one of the candies soon, Leila pressed impatiently.
'Yes.'
'How late?'
'Very late.'
'Before I finish all these, right?'
When Leila shook the jar, its colorful candies rattling inside, her mother silently nodded.
'Yeah.'
Another short reply.
'I will.'
If she was going to abandon her, she shouldn't have left behind answers like that.
Her mother—once called too beautiful to be the wife of a poor man—had discarded her husband and child like ill-fitting clothes and vanished. Some said she had become the mistress of a high-ranking noble. Others claimed she had married a wealthy merchant and left the country.
People reveled in embellishing and distorting the rumors, savoring them until they grew stale. What remained was a man broken by abandonment, a neglected little girl, and the cruel reality of it all. The father who had once been affectionate drowned himself in alcohol every day after that. He couldn't bear to look at Leila anymore—her face, too much like her mother's, was unbearable.
Leila rationed the candies as she waited for her mother. By the time the bottom of the pretty glass jar became visible, she had already realized her mother would never return—but she didn't want to admit it. That was why she couldn't bring herself to eat the last piece.
In the end, it was on the evening she was left completely alone in this world that she finally ate it. Her father, his body ruined and weakened by alcohol, had passed away from illness. As if sensing his end, the father who had avoided her gaze all this time quietly looked at his daughter that day and smiled.
'When the flowers bloom, let's go to the park together, Leila.'
His voice was weak. And since he drew his last breath that very evening, those words became his final ones.
If you're going to leave, don't make any promises.
While relatives hesitated over what to do with the troublesome child, Leila was left alone in the empty house. All that remained was a meaningless promise and a single piece of candy.
She still remembered that candy—how it had shimmered, so clear and beautiful, a brilliant shade of blue.
A few days later, when there was nothing left to eat, Leila finally ate the last piece. Biting down hard, the shattering candy scraped against the tender flesh of her mouth.
Blood welled up, sharp and coppery, but she crunched the candy between her teeth, chewing as she sobbed. The sorrow tasted sweet and bitter all at once. Outside the window, the flowers had wilted. The wind carried away the pale pink petals, like snow falling in spring—that afternoon of a long-gone spring day.
"Uncle!"
Leila, walking along Platanus Road, suddenly lifted her head, her eyes widening.
"Uncle!"
Her pale face lit up with a radiant smile.
"Uncle! Bill!"
She broke into a run toward Bill Remmer, who was striding briskly toward her from the other end of the road.
And it was at that very moment that the Duke's black carriage turned onto Platanus Road.