Chapter 54
Chapter 54
Translation: godsn
Leila couldn't remember a single thing about how the meeting had progressed. With her mind completely blank, she smiled, spoke, and moved mechanically. Even in all those moments, her nerves were entirely focused on that man—the Duke of Herhardt—making it difficult to be conscious of anything else.
Why on earth...?
Leila's sidelong glances at the Duke were thick with terror and confusion mixed together.
As if mocking her distress, Matthias maintained an utterly composed and indifferent expression throughout the meeting. The principal, intoxicated with joy over the Duke's unexpected visit, chattered endlessly, and Matthias readily agreed to his enthusiastic plans for school expansion. It wasn't his concern anyway. Everything was inconsequential—except for that trembling woman who kept stealing nervous glances at him.
"Teacher Lewellin."
The corners of Matthias's mouth softened slightly at the sound of someone calling that name.
"Teacher Lewellin?"
The voice calling again carried a hint of confusion.
Every pair of eyes in the meeting room turned toward the owner of that name. Matthias was the last to look. Leila stood in the corner like a child being punished, fidgeting anxiously with her hands while staring fixedly at her own toes. The shadow of his lowered lashes deepened as he watched her.
"Ah...!"
Only belatedly realizing the situation, Leila lifted her flushed face.
"My apologies."
Her flustered bow irritated him. She had been bold enough to whisper impertinent words and act without fear before, yet here she was, completely cowed. It was almost pitiable.
"What in the world are you—"
"Please continue."
The principal's furrowed brow and Matthias's calm suggestion overlapped almost simultaneously.
"About the expansion plans."
Meeting the principal's wide-eyed gaze, Matthias offered an uncharacteristically gracious smile.
"I'd like to hear more details."
"Ah, yes!"
As if he had already secured a new school building, the principal, drunk on joy, quickly forgot his displeasure with the troublesome young teacher.
While the principal's plans grew increasingly detailed, Leila began helping Teacher Greber serve tea. Pull yourself together. She steeled her nerves, urging herself on. Don't look like a fool anymore. Please, just do this right. But that desperate wish vanished the moment she approached the Duke of Herhardt.
Clink, clink. The teacup and saucer trembled along with Leila's shaking hands. Matthias's gaze followed the sound as it drew nearer. When their eyes met, Leila's face looked as though she might burst into tears at any moment—frightened, confused, and utterly lost. This was what he had wanted, yet seeing it before him now wasn't as satisfying as he'd expected.
Changing his mind, Matthias averted his eyes from Leila. If she spilled the tea, she'd surely turn even redder and panic. It would be amusing, but not here. Fortunately, Leila managed to set the teacup down safely in front of him. The hand he glimpsed briefly was as pale as wax, drained of all color.
Leila retreated to the corner again, and the meeting continued.
As the principal's lengthy speech and appeals dragged on, Matthias slowly dwelled on the memory of those hands. Slender fingers with petal-like nails that glinted at their tips. That summer afternoon when he had seized those hands—hands that had struck and scratched him frantically yet couldn't inflict the slightest pain. The sensation of those small fingers tangled tightly in his grasp.
By the time the memory of those lips he had crushed beneath his own resurfaced, the meeting had concluded. The sponsors readily agreed to the expansion, and Matthias pledged the largest donation of all. Behind the nobles' dignified faces lay an eagerness to return home as quickly as possible.
"May I take a brief look around the classrooms?"
Matthias asked politely, addressing the principal, whose face was ready to agree to anything he said.
"Of course, Your Grace. However, the other patrons are currently taking their leave, so if I could just see them off—"
The Principal glanced around awkwardly before his gaze landed on Leila, who stood hidden in the corner of the classroom—currently the most useless pair of hands available.
"Would it be acceptable to entrust Teacher Lewellin with guiding you?"
The exact answer Matthias had hoped for. He nodded graciously as if bestowing a favor and slowly rose from his seat.
"Of course. Let us do that."
The classroom Leila was in charge of, where she taught the lower grades, was situated at the far end of the first floor. With the children dismissed early and the stove extinguished, the room was cold and damp.
After lighting the lamp, Leila stepped stiffly over the threshold. Just this one classroom to show, and it would be over. So far, Matthias had behaved exactly like a patron genuinely interested in inspecting the school facilities, allowing Leila to guide him without collapsing or fleeing.
Just a little longer.
"This is where the younger students study—"
Leila had barely begun her perfunctory explanation when the sound of the door clicking shut cut her off. Trailing off, she turned in alarm. Matthias stood with his back against the closed door.
"So this is Teacher Lewellin's classroom."
His eyes slowly traced over the teacher's desk, her belongings, the coat draped over the back of the chair.
"Yes. That's correct, Your Grace."
Leila took unsteady steps backward, retreating toward the window—the farthest point from him. Her heart pounded as erratically as the rain tapping against the glass.
Matthias closed the distance between them with leisurely steps, as if on a casual stroll. Fidgeting, Leila glanced around before pressing herself against the edge of her desk by the window.
"What am I going to do to you?"
Matthias laughed, but it brought Leila no comfort. When he looked at her with those cool eyes and a gentle smile, the Duke was at his most cruel.
"This is a school, Your Grace. Not Arvis."
"True. It is a school."
He continued advancing.
"I'm a patron of this school. So it's not as if I have no right to be here."
"You didn't even announce your attendance—why approach it like this—"
"Do I look like a fool, Leila?"
Matthias stopped, leaving about two paces between them, hands clasped behind his back with perfect composure.
"If I had announced it, you wouldn't be here. You'd have run away, no matter what it took."
Leila's lips parted slightly, but she couldn't deny it.
"If you have something to say, please say it at Arvis."
"Hmm, Leila. I think here is better."
With a faint smirk, Matthias stepped toward the teacher's desk. Leila stared desperately out the window facing the hallway, as if silently pleading for rescue.
"Because here, we're actually talking."
He idly examined the neatly arranged belongings on the desk as he spoke. The sound of Leila's swallowed breath mingled with the rain.
Quill pens and pressed flowers. A delicate porcelain figurine. Pen nibs stored in an empty chocolate box.
Petite objects that mirrored their owner. Matthias's gaze lingered on the inkwells at the edge of the desk.
Black. Blue. Red.
A smile touched his lips as he surveyed them one by one. He picked up the red one closest to him.
Leila considered protesting but simply bowed her head. He was only inspecting things, touching them. She didn't want to betray her flushed face by overreacting.
Please. Just let the others return from seeing off the guests. Leila clasped her hands as if in prayer. Meanwhile, the Duke uncapped the inkwell. Only after hearing the sound of it tipping over the desk did Leila realize what had happened.
"Y-Your Grace!"
She looked up, bewildered by the strange behavior—and screamed. The Duke, now standing before her chair, was pouring the crimson ink over her coat as if decanting wine.
Leila rushed over in shock. The Duke stepped back, still lightly holding the half-empty ink bottle. She frantically pulled out a handkerchief and tried to wipe it off, but her pale gray coat was already ruined with ink.
"What on earth are you doing?!"
Even as Leila cried out, her voice trembling, the Duke remained unruffled.
"Taking responsibility."
The absurdity of his reply left her momentarily speechless. Her parted lips flushed red with rising anger. The Duke stepped closer again and, without hesitation, poured ink over her shoulder as well. The elegant motion sent the ink cascading down, staining not just her blouse and skirt but even her shoes.
After emptying the last drop onto Leila, the Duke casually released the bottle without a second thought. The glass vial clattered cleanly against the wooden floor, rolling away. Splattered droplets of ink even landed on his polished shoes, but his expression remained utterly indifferent.
Leila's lips twitched as if to scream, but no sound came out. She was too stunned, too frightened, too bewildered—all she could do was tremble violently, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Drenched in ink as red as blood, she looked like someone who had just been strangled.
"What a mess, Leila."
The Duke surveyed the chaos he had created, then slightly furrowed his brow.
"I suppose I'll have to take responsibility."
Even as he cruelly taunted her, his smile remained perfectly composed.
"We truly appreciate your generous understanding of Teacher Lewellin's mistake."
Following Matthias, the Principal apologized once more.
Having finished their farewells, the Principal and the other teachers hurried to find the Duke. What they saw in that classroom was the youngest teacher, drenched in what appeared to be accidentally spilled ink, and the Duke standing beside her with apparent concern.
"It was my mistake."
Matthias repeated the same words as before.
"I was the one who tried to pick up the ink bottle she dropped, so it's only right that I apologize to Teacher Lewellin."
"Even so, we regret that we couldn't present a better impression on your first visit to our school."
"It was a perfectly enjoyable visit."
Arriving at the entrance, Matthias gave a brief nod to the flustered Principal.
"Teacher Lewellin will accompany me."
His gaze slid past the Principal, landing on Leila, who stood dumbfounded behind him. The more she tried to wipe away the ink, the more it smeared, making her look like someone gravely injured.
"No. I'm fine."
Her voice was thin, trembling with suppressed fury. The fear in her eyes had sharpened into something almost fierce—still better than the cowering mess she had been earlier.
"Teacher Lewellin, the Duke has already apologized. Wouldn't it be best to let it go now?"
The Principal smiled amiably, but his eyes were anxious.
"And it's raining today—you didn't even bring your bicycle. Let's do as His Grace suggests."
"I have an umbrella. I can walk."
The more Leila stubbornly insisted, the paler the Principal's face grew.
"I understand your feelings, Teacher Lewellin, but don't you think we should consider the shock passersby might feel seeing you walking through the rain in such a state? The constables might even be called."
At Matthias's joke, everyone burst into polite laughter. Leila bit her lip and glanced down at herself. The red ink made her look like a bloodied victim—perhaps his words weren't entirely in jest.
Taking the hint, Teacher Greber approached Leila, who stood rigidly in place. Matthias, already seated in the carriage, watched the scene with leisurely amusement.
Practically dragged along, Leila was loaded into the carriage like a piece of luggage. Matthias shifted slightly, making room for her furious form.
The door soon closed, and the carriage carrying the two of them set off.