Chapter 56
Chapter 56
Translation: godsn
"You've done us a great service again today, Dr. Etman."
Katharina von Herhardt's gaze was as benevolent as ever as she watched Dr. Etman pack his medical bag. The doctor returned her look with his usual warm smile.
"Please, it's nothing. I'm just relieved there's no serious issue."
"At my age, it wouldn't be strange if there were problems."
"Now, now, you shouldn't say such things."
Dr. Etman rose slowly and stood beside the bed where the Dowager lay. Though it was just a mild cold, at her age, such things couldn't be taken lightly.
"This old woman has lived such comfortable years thanks to you, Dr. Etman."
The Dowager let out a light chuckle, her gaze shifting to the daughter-in-law standing beside the doctor.
"Don't you agree, Elise?"
"Of course."
Elise von Herhardt readily concurred.
"You've worked hard, Dr. Etman."
"Not at all, madam. I'll take my leave now."
"Oh, by the way—how is Kyle doing?"
At her question, the usually composed family doctor's eyes flickered briefly. But he soon regained his composure and smiled.
"Yes. Fortunately, he's been focusing diligently on his studies."
"I see. He takes after you, Dr. Etman—I'm certain he'll make an excellent physician."
"I'm honored you think so."
"He'll be returning to Carlsbar for winter break, I presume?"
"It seems he hasn't made definite plans yet."
"Well, of course. For his first break, he might stay in the capital to enjoy social engagements, or perhaps broaden his horizons with travels. Maybe to the warmer southern regions."
"Yes. I intend to respect Kyle's wishes, whichever he chooses."
"Do let us know when his plans are settled. I'd be happy to introduce him to some suitable social clubs. And if he decides to travel, we can provide appropriate assistance for that as well."
Dr. Etman looked somewhat surprised at this unexpected show of consideration and kindness.
"Please give my regards to Mrs. Etman as well."
Elise von Herhardt added this farewell as she escorted the departing doctor to the bedroom door—her tone so cordial one would never guess she was referring to someone they'd formally cut ties with.
Dr. Etman responded with a polite smile before withdrawing. The servants followed suit, leaving only the two matriarchs of the ducal household in the bedroom.
"You're showing quite an interest in Kyle, Elise."
The Dowager smiled as she settled deeper into the cushions supporting her back.
"Come to think of it, you're right, Mother. If Kyle becomes a good doctor, it would benefit our Matthias. Though we've severed ties with Mrs. Etman, we should still respect the Etman family in their capacity as our physicians."
"I'm glad you agree."
The Dowager nodded contentedly. Barring unforeseen circumstances, Kyle Etman too would one day serve as the ducal family's physician.
After some more conversation about Kyle Etman, the two noblewomen's discussion naturally flowed toward Matthias—the living pride and glorious successor of their house.
"Just recently, I heard Matthias attended a village school board meeting."
Elise von Herhardt said this with evident delight.
"To think he'd pay attention to such minute details—I was truly impressed."
"It seems Matthias is learning how to be the head of our family much faster than we anticipated."
The Dowager marveled, and Elise von Herhardt happily agreed.
"Indeed. That boy will become the most perfect Duke Herhardt yet."
One might say it was coincidence.
It was an uneventful day with no particular schedule, which was why Matthias had accepted Liet's suggestion to visit the social club together.
After passing a moderately enjoyable yet equally dull time there, on their way back—there was Leila.
The moment his carriage turned the corner onto the road leading to the estate, Matthias recognized her. Though still some distance away, that figure could be no one but Leila. Wearing the white coat he'd bought her, Leila was riding her bicycle down the Platanus Road in the late autumn light.
"That woman—Leila Lewellin, isn't it?"
As the distance between them and the cycling woman gradually closed, Liet also recognized her.
"The bird-loving young lady who lives in the Arvis hunting grounds."
Despite his playful tone, Liet's gaze was serious. Though his eyes weren't fixed on Leila, but rather on his cousin, the Duke of Herhardt, who was watching her.
Matthias answered with a tilt of his chin instead of words, his eyes deeply fixed on Leila's retreating figure outside the window. Though she seemed slightly weary—perhaps on her way home from work—her spirited pedaling remained undiminished.
Noticing the carriage following her, Leila steered her bicycle to the edge of the road. Around that time, the carriage carrying Matthias and Liet passed by her. Seen up close, even her shoes were unmistakably the same pair Matthias had bought for her.
"She's a village schoolteacher, right? Must be on her way home."
Liet continued to grin as he watched Matthias.
"Probably."
With that curt reply, Matthias finally withdrew his gaze from Leila. Yet the soft curve of his lips remained. Anyone seeing him might think he was lovestruck—an absurd notion, yet Liet couldn't tear his eyes away from his cousin's face for the longest time.
"Have something to say?"
Perhaps sensing that stare, Matthias suddenly turned his head. Liet erased his faint embarrassment with a sly smile.
"About the hunt. Won't Your Grace join us?"
Fortunately, he quickly found a suitable excuse.
"We've invited guests. It'd be strange if the master of Arvis didn't participate."
When Liet had announced his weekend plans for a hunt in the Arvis woods, invitations had poured in from all directions. Matthias, as usual, left the decision to Liet.
"I can't play host on your lands, Matthias."
Their carriage had now come to a stop before the mansion's entrance.
After a brief moment of contemplation, Matthias readily agreed. After all, Leila would be in the woods that weekend.
"That's more like it."
Liet finally smiled as if he were seeing the Matthias he knew, stepping out of the carriage.
"Now that's the Duke of Herhardt."
Matthias didn't bother to shake off Liet's arm slung casually over his shoulder.
Side by side, the two walked toward the lobby of the mansion, where light spilled out.
Phoebe was a clever pigeon. Clever enough to know how to remedy her dissatisfaction with being trapped in the backyard aviary.
It all started with Bill Remmer.
On that weekend morning, while preparing Leila's breakfast, he made the mistake of not latching the aviary securely when he filled Phoebe's feed. Of course, even Phoebe hadn't realized it then—eating her fill was the priority.
It wasn't until Leila and Bill were raking the fallen leaves blanketing the backyard, chatting quietly, that Phoebe noticed something unusual about the aviary's condition.
"Don't go into the woods today, Leila. I heard the Duke and his friends are out hunting."
At Bill's words as he raked, Leila let out a deep sigh.
"They'd been quiet for a while. I guess His Grace hasn't changed hobbies after all."
"A marksman shouldn't let his skills go to waste."
"You sound like you're on the Duke's side."
"It's not that—it's not like there are sides to take! I'm just saying, well, you know."
As Bill hastily backtracked, Leila chuckled.
"Everyone at Arvis seems to like the Duke."
"They'd need a reason not to. There's no noble like him. That haughty noblewoman really landed herself a proper husband."
"...Yeah."
Leila raked with an even brighter smile on her face.
Up until then, Phoebe had remained quietly inside the aviary. From a distance, Leila noticed nothing amiss—and it wasn't unreasonable for her to miss it.
The clever pigeon made her escape attempt late in the morning, after Bill had left for work and Leila had begun cleaning the house.
The wind blew, causing the loosely latched wooden door of the cage to creak open. Drawn by the sound, Phoebe approached and pecked at the door with her beak, testing its wobbling surface. Realizing the door could move, her efforts grew even more vigorous, and before long, the unsteady cage door swung wide open.
Peering through the open door in confusion, Phoebe soon understood—this was her chance to escape the unjust confinement she'd endured simply for delivering a single letter for the Duke.
Spreading her snow-white wings to their fullest, Phoebe took flight. Not long after she circled the yard and soared toward the forest, the Duke's hunting party passed by the cabin.
Pausing her cleaning, Leila peeked her face through the window, straining to see where the sounds were coming from. The familiar sight of hunting dogs leading the way, followed by nobles on horseback, unfolded before her. Yet, the hunting rifle glinting ominously remained as unfamiliar and terrifying as ever, and Leila instinctively hunched her shoulders without realizing it. It was then that the Duke turned his head toward the cabin window.
When their eyes met, Leila startled and stumbled backward. Fear, it seemed, could be learned—even the mere sight of him now sent her heart pounding anxiously.
Restlessly pacing in place, Leila shut the window and drew the thick curtains tightly closed. Even after the sounds of the hunting party faded into the distance, her heartbeat refused to settle back into its normal rhythm. This wasn't the first time. Why had she become even more of a coward than she'd been as a child?
As Leila rubbed her stiff, chilled hands, the first gunshot echoed through the air. Soon after, the hunting dogs began barking wildly.
It must be him.
Vivid memories flashed through her mind—the Duke casually shooting down birds, the small, lifeless bodies drenched in blood, the metallic stench of it all.
Resolving to stay out of the forest until the hunt was over, Leila hurriedly grabbed her bag and left the house. Out of habit, she checked the cage in the backyard. Phoebe should have been there, but she couldn't help worrying.
"Phoebe...?"
Standing before the empty cage with its door ajar, Leila's face drained of color in horror. Her hands, gripping the straps of her bag, began to tremble uncontrollably just as another gunshot rang out from the forest.
The first to claim a prize in the hunt was Matthias. His bullet severed the breath of a roe deer darting through the underbrush in a single, clean shot.
"So now you're interested in prey that runs on the ground?" Liet remarked with amusement, clapping lightly.
"A shame, really. I was hoping to witness the legendary marksmanship of Duke Herhardt, famed for shooting birds mid-flight."
While Liet grumbled, the hounds drove forward another target—a rabbit with gray fur. This time, Liet raised his rifle.
The deeper they ventured into the forest, the more heated the hunt became. Though they added several birds to their quarry, Matthias had yet to shoot one down.
As long as it's not a bird, it's fine, isn't it?
He couldn't understand why, as the master of these hunting grounds, he was even entertaining such thoughts. But he found his own compromise—even if it made the hunt duller, he had no desire to see that woman cry.
The thunder of hooves against thick layers of fallen leaves shattered the forest's deep silence.
The hunting party now turned onto the path leading to the Schulter River, where waterfowl were plentiful—Matthias's favorite hunting route.
His gaze drifted absently until, on a branch midway along the path, he spotted a familiar bird. A white-feathered pigeon, with a red thread tied around one leg.
"Phoebe."
The name slipped reflexively from his lips, his breath forming a white mist in the cold air. The moment it dissipated, the rest of the party also lifted their heads toward the branch where the bird perched.