Chapter 58
Chapter 58
Translation: godsn
A hollow laugh escaped through the thin lips of the principal, who had been maintaining silence. Across from him, Leila sat quietly, gazing back with polite yet resolute eyes.
"Is that your true intention, Ms. Lewellin?"
"Yes. That's what I wish to do."
Her answer was serious—clearly not an offhand remark. Indeed, she wasn't the type to rashly suggest transferring to a distant school on a whim.
"I find this hard to comprehend. This should be the closest school to your home."
Though this young teacher, who pedaled her bicycle to school with a cheerful jingle, couldn't yet be called exceptionally capable, she was diligent and tenacious. Though he occasionally scolded her, the principal generally held her in good regard. Moreover, considering her circumstances, staying at this village school would have been the best choice in many ways.
"There are no suitable openings at other schools within Carlsbar. You do realize that transferring would require moving to a faraway city, don't you?"
"Yes. I'm aware."
"If there's some issue at this school, you should speak up. If it's something I can resolve, I'd gladly do so."
"It's nothing like that. Everyone treats me well, and I get along fine with the children. It's just..."
"Just?"
"It's just... a decision I made because I want to experience a broader world."
For a moment, Leila faltered, but she managed to deliver the answer she had prepared.
The principal let out another dry chuckle. Understandably so. Carlsbar was a flourishing city, rivaling even the capital of the Berg Empire. Yet no matter how much she agonized over it, Leila couldn't come up with a better excuse. Fortunately, the principal didn't press further and simply nodded.
"Finding a replacement won't be difficult—there are plenty of teachers eager to work in Carlsbar. Still, you have until next semester to think it over carefully."
Though she doubted more time would change her decision, Leila gratefully accepted the principal's consideration. As she stepped out of his office and returned to the classroom, she finally released the long breath she had been holding.
Leila leaned quietly against the windowsill of the now-empty classroom, the children all gone. Beyond the window, the oak tree had shed nearly all its leaves. The stark shadows of its bare branches stretched long across the floor, draping over her.
Leave Arvis.
After sleepless nights and days spent in a daze, making foolish mistakes, this was the conclusion Leila had reached. Though the precious daily life she shared with Uncle Bill weighed heavily on her heart, losing Kyle had taught her a lesson—that stubbornly clinging might only destroy more than it preserved.
She resolved to simply return to her original plan.
Even if she taught in a neighboring city, she could still visit Uncle Bill on weekends. Boarding away from home would require more money than she currently had, possibly delaying her university preparations, but that was fine.
If it means leaving Arvis... leaving that man behind.
"It's okay."
With a faint smile, Leila approached her desk.
Remembering her helpless childhood—passed between relatives' homes, left alone in this world—she felt she could endure anything. She was an adult now, with beloved Uncle Bill by her side. So everything would be fine. It had to be fine.
Unconsciously wiping her lips, Leila hurriedly put on her coat and gathered her bag. Spotting the duke's handkerchief tucked deep inside—where it had remained untouched for days—her gaze wavered briefly, but she quickly smoothed away the turmoil.
Mounting her bicycle, Leila began pedaling with the same vigor as always.
It was just as Liet turned onto the road leading to Arvis that he spotted her.
Leila Lewellin, who had parked her bicycle between the towering trees, stood perfectly still with her hands clasped behind her back. As if waiting for someone.
And who might that someone be?
Liet found the answer—hazy yet vaguely discernible—so intriguing that he pulled his car over to the roadside. Leila, who had been tapping the ground with the tip of her shoe, suddenly lifted her head. Realizing the face before her wasn't the one she had hoped for, she stiffened and instinctively took a step back.
"Hello, Miss Lewellin."
Leaning against the closed car door, Liet greeted her with a smirk. Leila frantically glanced around before retreating another step.
"Good day, Marquess."
The greeting she finally managed to force out dripped with wariness and tension.
"What are you doing here?"
"......."
Her face twisted in fierce deliberation, but in the end, Leila couldn't bring herself to answer. Liet chuckled again, as if her silence was the most telling response of all.
"The doctor's son isn't here, so it must be Duke Herhardt you're waiting for, no?"
At his brazen remark, Leila lifted her bowed head. Behind her glasses, her narrowed eyes and flushed cheeks betrayed her embarrassment and shame.
"The man you're waiting for, Miss Lewellin—it's Matthias, isn't it?"
Liet closed the distance between them until he stood right in front of her, hands still casually tucked behind his back.
Leila clenched the strap of her bag with sweat-slicked fingers. She had intended to return the Duke's handkerchief—an object that weighed on her like a ticking time bomb—but she didn't want to seek him out directly. Waiting for him on this road had seemed like the best option.
"Why so silent? Ah. Did I hit a nerve?"
"Step aside, Marquess."
Hiding the bag containing the handkerchief behind her back, Leila turned to leave. But Liet was quicker, blocking her path.
"You haven't even seen Matthias yet. Leaving so soon?"
"Let me pass!"
"Do you even know where the Duke you're so desperately waiting for has gone?"
Tsking as if disappointed, Liet grabbed her shoulder.
"Duke Herhardt has gone to fetch his fiancée, poor Miss Lewellin."
What had started as a mischievous joke was beginning to irritate Liet himself. She would keep waiting here indefinitely, clueless about Matthias's whereabouts. The sight of it was annoying, pitiful, and above all, painfully familiar—because, if he was honest, he recognized a trace of his own self-pity reflected in her.
When he'd heard Claudine was visiting Arvis, when he'd watched Matthias casually stride off to meet her, when he'd waved with a meaningless smile before aimlessly driving off alone—it was that same kind of unpleasant feeling. A sense of kinship, perhaps.
"Matthias—he's not exactly fun, is he?"
Blocking Leila's attempt to flee in the opposite direction, Liet seized the handlebars of her bicycle with one hand.
"Not that he treats his mistress much differently."
"Wh-what did you say?"
"The Duke's mistress. What? Too crude a term for you?"
Grinning down at Leila, whose face had gone deathly pale, Liet feigned remorse.
"My apologies if so, Miss Lewellin."
"Give me back my bicycle!"
"The doctor's son adores you, Duke Herhardt favors you—yet you despise me alone. How cruel."
With an exaggerated sigh, Liet released the handlebars. Then, while Leila was distracted, he snatched the bag from her hands. Her face drained of all color as she lunged for him.
"What about me?"
He lifted the bag high above his head, out of her reach.
"I can't speak for the doctor's son, but I'm definitely more fun than Matthias."
"Give me back my bag!"
"You know, Matthias and I actually look quite alike. Don't you think? Not as much as the Herhardt ducal family, of course, but I'm decent enough not to disappoint you, Miss Lewellin."
Driven solely by the desperate need to reclaim her bag, Leila now fearlessly yanked at his arm. Her tightly pressed lips trembled faintly.
"Why don't you let that boring Duke cozy up with his equally dull fiancée and come play with me instead, Miss Lewellin?"
As if her bag contained some priceless treasure, Leila clung to it with pitiful tenacity.
With a stifled laugh, Liet finally relented and let go of the bag. The moment she snatched it back into her arms, Leila abandoned her bicycle entirely and bolted—not toward the entrance of Arvis, but in the opposite direction, frantic and heedless. One of her shoes had been knocked off and lay discarded on the road, but she didn't seem to notice.
"Sorry, Miss Lewellin! I'll stop now!"
Even as Liet called after her, Leila didn't pause. If anything, she ran even more desperately.
Sighing, Liet picked up the lone shoe left behind and began chasing after her. Just as Leila rounded the corner, a sharp metallic screech and the dull thud of impact echoed through the air.
Liet's face paled as he rushed toward the source of the noise. There, in front of a halted black car, a small figure lay crumpled on the ground—Leila, the very girl who had fled from him.
While Liet stood frozen in shock, people emerged from the car. The driver and an attendant hurried toward Leila, who had collided with the vehicle, while from the opened rear door, Matthias and Claudine stepped out.
"My God! Leila!"
Claudine shrieked her name in alarm.
Matthias's gaze, having taken in the sight of Leila still trembling with her bag clutched tightly to her chest, lingered on Liet's face, illuminated by the headlights.
Fortunately, it wasn't a serious accident.
Despite the hard impact, Leila managed to rise to her feet on her own. Even when urged to go to the hospital, she stubbornly shook her head. Once Matthias confirmed she was well enough to ride her bicycle back alone, he swiftly put an end to the commotion.
"Let's head back now."
His tone was calm as he addressed the lingering onlookers still craning their necks to watch Leila disappear into the distance. He showed no hint of curiosity about what had happened—why Marquess Lindman had been chasing Leila in the first place.
"Yes. That would be best."
Claudine, after a brief glance at Liet, readily agreed with her fiancé.
That was all. Matthias returned to the car with Claudine, and Liet, still standing awkwardly, soon retreated to his own vehicle parked at the entrance of Platanus Road. The two cars overtook Leila and passed through the gates of Arvis.
"She seemed to have hit the car quite hard. It's a miracle she wasn't hurt."
Claudine exhaled as she glanced out the window.
Even Claudine, who rarely showed surprise, had been startled when she saw Leila—running like prey fleeing a hunter—collide with the car. And the moment Liet appeared afterward, holding Leila's shoe in one hand, she had nearly let every emotion show plainly on her face.
Still, she never expected Liet to act so recklessly and impatiently.
Claudine tensely studied Matthias's reaction. But no emotion could be discerned from him. There was no concern for his woman, no anger toward the one who had hurt her—he was simply the Duke of Herhardt, no different from usual.
Just as she found herself feeling strangely sorry for Leila, the car came to a stop before the ducal mansion's entrance.