Chapter 55
Chapter 55
Translation: godsn
"This doesn't seem to be the way to Arvis."
After clutching her bag and coat tightly with pursed lips, Leila finally spoke her first words. The car was heading toward the bustling downtown of Carlsbar rather than the road leading to Arvis.
"Mr. Evers, this road is—"
"I told you, Leila."
Matthias cut off her words to the attendant seated in the passenger seat. Having forgotten her fear in the face of his towering rage, Leila met the Duke's gaze without flinching.
"You said you'd take responsibility."
Watching him emphasize the word "responsibility" with peculiar force, Leila unconsciously gripped the hem of her skirt.
"Since I've done something that warrants responsibility, it's only right that I take responsibility for ruining your dress as well."
"No, that's unnecessary. I don't need—"
"Why? Do you think my wrongdoing isn't enough yet?"
Despite the presence of the driver and attendant in front, Matthias remained utterly unbothered.
Leila couldn't retort and only took a deep breath. Red stains remained on one hand from her futile attempts to wipe away the ink. Seeing them felt like looking at the mess inside her own heart—Leila was both upset and ashamed.
She should have just quietly thrown it away.
She had thought returning the gift would put an end to this strange relationship with the Duke, but realizing how pathetic that notion was, Leila bit down so hard on the tender flesh inside her mouth it hurt. What should she even call this humiliating, suffocating feeling that sometimes made her want to burst into tears?
As if searching for an answer, Leila looked at Matthias. His gaze was fixed on her too. Behind his expressionless face, the gloomy gray cityscape and flickering lights streamed past.
Somehow, just as she thought his eyes looked equally lost, the car came to a stop. They had arrived at a street lined with high-end boutiques.
Without any special instruction, the driver and attendant exited the car, leaving the two of them alone. The air grew heavy in an instant, and Leila's shoulders instinctively hunched.
"I should go now."
Leila hastily grabbed her umbrella and turned to leave. But her trembling little hand was caught in Matthias's grip before it could even touch the car door. Startled, she struggled, but he subdued her resistance effortlessly.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"I don't need clothes! I'm going home—back home!"
"How selfish of you, Leila."
Just as his grip on her wrist—tight enough to hurt—loosened slightly, Matthias let out a low chuckle.
"Not thinking of Bill Remmer?"
"...What did you say?"
At the unexpected name spat out by the Duke, Leila froze mid-struggle.
"How heartbroken do you think Remmer would be to see you like this?"
"Are you seriously—the very person who did this to me—pretending to worry about Bill now?"
"Well, regardless of you, Remmer has been a gardener serving our family for decades."
Matthias tugged sharply on her wrist, pulling Leila helplessly close until she was right in front of him—close enough to feel his breath.
"Do you really think you can explain this to him properly?"
"O-of course I can!"
Leila tried to pull away, but Matthias cupped her cheek firmly with his other hand.
"How very bold of you."
A soft whisper escaped his lips, slightly tilted in amusement.
"I did something that warrants responsibility, so I'll take responsibility for you, Leila."
The more Leila tried to avoid his gaze, the more persistently Matthias pursued it.
"My responsibility today is to buy you new clothes and send you back to Remmer's arms looking presentable."
"I don't want to! Let me go! I—"
"Think carefully, Leila. Accepting my apology and letting me replace your dress is the sensible thing to do. But if you resist and throw a tantrum like this... wouldn't that seem rather strange?"
Matthias's furrowed eyes pointed toward the car window. Though the driver and attendant stood with their backs turned, waiting, there was no way they couldn't guess the commotion inside the vehicle.
"A mistress throwing a tantrum, or something along those lines."
At such a vulgar joke, Leila's face turned as if she'd been unexpectedly slapped.
Matthias chuckled lightly before finally releasing her. Extending his arm, he tapped on the glass, and Mark Evers swiftly turned to open the rear door. Leila practically fled from the car.
After confirming the bag and coat left behind, Matthias gestured to summon Mark Evers and relayed brief instructions. The attendant quickly understood, and soon the door closed again. Turning back, Leila stood shivering beneath the driver's umbrella, her body trembling uncontrollably.
As Matthias's eyes gradually narrowed while watching her, Mark Evers, who had been observing the scene, began removing his own coat. That was when Matthias knocked on the window again as if tapping for attention. The attendant hurriedly adjusted his half-removed coat before opening the door.
Matthias silently commanded by handing over his own discarded coat, and Mark accepted it without question.
When the door closed once more, the car was filled only with the sound of rain tapping against the windows. Matthias gazed at Leila through the moisture-streaked glass. Mark Evers wrapped his coat around Leila's shaking shoulders. She seemed half-dazed, not even registering where the coat had come from.
Soon, the driver returned, and the car began to move. Clutching the collar of Matthias's coat tightly, Leila followed the attendant into the dress shop.
Matthias held that retreating figure in his gaze for a long time.
"Why are we going there?"
Leila abruptly halted when she realized Mark Evers was leading her toward the entrance of an opulent hotel. It was the very same hotel where she had been dragged by Claudine last summer and forced to drink tea.
"It's the master's orders, Miss Lewellin."
Mark Evers explained with a faint smile.
"He said he wished to offer you tea as an apology before returning to Arvis."
"No. The clothes are apology enough."
"That's not for me to decide."
"But—"
"I merely follow the master's commands. As you well know, Miss Lewellin."
He looked at her with a slightly troubled expression. Unable to persist any further, Leila followed him with reluctant steps.
"Actually, the Duke keeps birds too, Miss Lewellin. Very small, pretty ones."
Mark Evers suddenly brought up this unexpected topic as they entered the hotel lobby.
"Birds? The Duke?"
Leila frowned in disbelief. Nothing could sound more absurd. The slaughterer of beautiful birds—keeping pets?
"...For hunting?"
At Leila's cautious yet earnest question, Mark Evers looked utterly dumbfounded. Though he wanted to defend his master, they had already arrived at the tea room.
Matthias was seated by the window, where the rainy terrace was visible. The attendant who had guided Leila there withdrew, his duty fulfilled.
"Sit."
He commanded the motionless Leila.
As people began to glance their way, Leila reluctantly took the seat across from him. When she removed the coat, an emerald velvet dress was revealed. The lace collar, broad enough to graze her shoulders, was white as snow.
Matthias's gaze slowly trailed downward along the pearl buttons adorning the front. The stockings and shoes peeking below her calves were also brand new. He found this far more satisfactory than the nun-like attire from before. Perhaps they had styled her hair at the dress shop—it now looked more natural and elegant.
Soon, a teacup was placed before Leila as well. Beautiful cakes and pastries, like something out of a display model, followed suit.
"Eat."
Matthias commanded again, teacup in hand. Leila remained frozen, simply glaring at him.
"Should I feed you?"
Matthias tilted his head as he asked, gazing at her with eyes that held not a trace of intimidation—eyes she was all too willing to meet head-on.
"If that's what you want, I'll take responsibility that far."
As Matthias straightened from where he'd been reclining deeply in his chair, Leila hastily grabbed her fork. The utensil, which had been wandering aimlessly across the ornate tea table, now stabbed at a cake frosted in soft pink cream. It seemed she had a sweet tooth.
"What do you like?"
Matthias asked quietly, watching the way her lips and cheeks moved as she chewed. Having learned one trivial thing about her, he found himself curious about countless others.
"I think I could like everything except the things I'm forced to eat in front of the Duke."
Leila chirped in reply, staring straight into his eyes while fidgeting with the fork's handle. Her expression was bold, but her voice trembled pitifully. Matthias's burst of laughter melted into the sound of rain pattering against the windowpanes.
"If you're not trying to provoke my interest, maybe you should change your approach. I find this reckless attitude of yours quite entertaining."
Matthias leaned his upper body diagonally toward the table.
"And Leila—if you keep being this amusing, I'll go mad."
His voice grew even softer, almost a whisper now.
Leila blinked rapidly, retreating until her back pressed flush against the chair—putting as much distance between them as he'd closed. The cream-smeared fork remained clutched in her hand.
"Wouldn't it be better to behave obediently and demurely? To make yourself less interesting."
Matthias finally withdrew, seeing how she might topple right out of the chair if he pushed any further.
It took Leila a long moment to finally set down her fork. As she wiped her lips with a napkin, her cheeks flushed crimson.
"What do you like?"
Matthias repeated the question as if asking for the first time.
"...I don't have any particular preferences when it comes to food."
Leila answered demurely. The visible effort it took to suppress her impulse to retort as she pleased was quite the spectacle.
"Is that so? How obedient."
Leila bristled at his words yet managed to hold back. But her eyes—those eyes that never learned to conceal emotion—shone brilliantly clear and vivid in moments like these.
Let's see if you can say the same about other things.
Matthias swallowed those words rising to his throat along with a sip of coffee. Her cowed, trembling demeanor had irked him, yet he found himself unwilling to share this side of her with anyone else. The thought that he might be the only person who knew Leila Lewellin's true nature—perhaps even Bill Remmer was unaware—stirred a peculiar thrill within him.
Having resolved to make herself uninteresting, Leila remained docile and well-behaved throughout tea. She answered when spoken to, ate obediently, all while stealing dissatisfied, resentful glances at Matthias. Sometimes her cheeks would flush; other times, she'd smack her cream-stained lips.
When it struck him that this time together had been earned through misdeeds, Matthias let out a hollow laugh. That he had to break her to have her—that this was the only way to possess her. What a ludicrous notion.
Yet the frown that had briefly creased his features soon gave way to a tranquil smile. Matthias's gaze as he watched Leila held an eerily clear light. Even demure and obedient, the woman who still drove him mad filled his vision entirely.
Then Leila—what must I break to have you?
Lost in thought, Matthias tilted his head slightly. Leila, who had been gazing out the darkened window, turned her direct stare back toward him.
Those were the emerald eyes only he knew—Leila's beautiful emerald eyes.