Chapter 62
Chapter 62
Translation: godsn
"Did you see, Teacher Lewellin? The Duke of Herhardt has arrived!"
Teacher Greber approached Leila with flushed cheeks, whispering excitedly. Leila, who had just stepped into the lobby's hall while overseeing the children's final dress rehearsal, looked at her in surprise.
"The Duke himself? Not the ladies of the ducal house?"
"Yes! The Duke himself is here. He seems to have accompanied his grandmother—ah! Look there. Over there."
When Leila turned her head toward where Teacher Greber was pointing, she saw the Duke surrounded by people. At that very moment, the Duke also turned his gaze, and their eyes locked abruptly. Feeling as if her breath had been knocked out of her, Leila hastily lowered her head in a semblance of greeting. Fortunately, the Duke soon left the area.
"Since you live at Arvis, Teacher Lewellin, you must see the Duke quite often, don't you?"
Teacher Greber asked wistfully as she watched him walk away. Leila flinched involuntarily and clasped her hands together.
"Well... occasionally."
"How envious. Truly. If only I could catch even a distant glimpse of him once in a while."
Ever since the autumn picnic to Arvis, Teacher Greber had developed boundless admiration for Duke Herhardt and now showered him with endless praise—how splendid and elegant he was, how quintessentially noble.
Soon, Teacher Greber returned to the performance hall to oversee the choir practice for her upper-grade students. As Leila crossed the hall to join the other schoolteachers, she spotted Duke Herhardt again. Engaged in conversation with a middle-aged gentleman, the Duke exuded an air of dignified composure.
Pausing briefly, Leila cautiously observed Matthias.
Since childhood, the Duke had been nothing more than a frightening, uncomfortable presence to Leila. That was why the universally praised Duke Herhardt felt so unfamiliar to her. She couldn't agree with most of the acclaim, and even if she could, there was no reason she needed to acknowledge it.
That sentiment hadn't changed now, but at least the public's admiration didn't seem entirely unfounded. In his rightful place, perfectly fulfilling his role, Matthias von Herhardt was undoubtedly that kind of man. Only Leila Lewellin knew the other side of him—the side that felt more like a dream.
A beautiful yet cruel nightmare, perhaps.
Leila slowly lifted her gaze, which had been fixed on the long shadow cast on the marble floor. It struck her anew how tall he was. Though his slender frame gave an impression of leanness, standing before him made his formidable presence dizzyingly overwhelming.
And those blue eyes... Wait, why couldn't she see them?
Only when she met the Duke's eyes did Leila realize something was amiss. Because—he was looking directly at her. He should have been in profile, facing away. That was how he had been standing. So why?
Flustered, Leila stood frozen under his gaze. His eyes seemed indifferent, but his lips appeared slightly curved.
"What are you doing here, Teacher Lewellin?"
The Principal's voice from behind made Leila jump and turn around.
"Goodness, you startled me. Come now, let's all go greet him."
The Principal began leading the gathered teachers toward where Duke Herhardt and the elderly lady were standing. Before she knew it, Leila found herself swept along and standing before the Duke.
As Matthias surveyed the teachers one by one, his gaze inevitably reached Leila at the very end. Before lowering her eyes, she caught a faint trace of amusement in his previously furrowed brows.
Why?
Though curious, she couldn't lift her head. Staring at the impeccably polished tips of the Duke's shoes, she could only pray for the performance to begin soon. Little did she know that would prove an even greater ordeal.
"You seem quite lively these days, Matthias."
The Grandmother, who had been studying her grandson's face with keen interest, spoke with evident delight.
"Has something good happened?"
"No. Nothing in particular, Grandmother."
Though she had asked with a hint of hopeful expectation, Matthias merely offered a polite, faint smile and gave a composed reply. Yet there was undeniably an unusual air about him—almost as if... one might say he resembled a youth of his age.
It was an amusing thought, but undeniably true.
Lately, Matthias carried himself like a young man in the full bloom of his vibrant youth. Only upon seeing him like this did she truly grasp just how young her grandson still was.
"Well, seeing you like this gladdens my heart."
Whatever the reason, it was a sight too pleasing to question, so she decided not to press further.
"Even if such events seem trivial, Matthias, goodwill and respect begin in places like this."
Katharina von Herhardt's gaze, having swept slowly across the performance hall, returned to her grandson's face.
"I cannot tell you how proud I am to see you becoming the kind of family head who cares even for such matters. Your grandfather and father were never this meticulous."
She praised him with deep satisfaction.
The masterpiece of the Herhardt family.
That was how the world often referred to Matthias. Whenever she heard it, she would laugh it off as excessive praise, feigning modesty—but inwardly, she agreed with the sentiment more than anyone. Hadn't she endured all these long years, standing behind her husband and son, precisely to witness the day the finest Herhardt would bring the family its greatest glory? Lately, such thoughts often crossed her mind.
As she took in the pleasing sight of her grandson once more, the lights in the hall dimmed. Silence settled over the audience as the emcee appeared on stage.
Out of ingrained habit, Matthias maintained his upright posture and offered measured applause. But not a single moment of the performance unfolding onstage captured his attention.
Leila was wearing that necklace.
He had wondered if she might be, and now that she had drawn closer, it was unmistakably the emerald necklace. It felt like a mark—one that filled him with satisfaction. A mark that declared, You are mine. Whether you know it or not, that fact will never change.
The first time Matthias focused on the stage was when the village schoolchildren's play began. The faces looked familiar, and upon closer inspection, they were the same children who had come to Arvis on a field trip with Leila that day.
His gaze drifted downward, toward the darkened space below the stage. Just as he suspected, Leila stood there, keeping watch over her students. The nervous children kept fidgeting, stealing glances in her direction. The smallest girl—the one who had spilled ice cream on Leila's clothes during the trip—already wore the expression of someone about to burst into tears.
I wonder what expression Teacher Lewellin is wearing right now.
Her back, visibly tense—likely just as nervous as the children—was something Matthias observed with leisurely interest.
The play seemed to be about fairies living in a forest. Children adorned with translucent, wing-like props flitted busily across the stage, occasionally drawing delighted laughter from the audience. But Matthias's eyes remained fixed solely on the woman pacing anxiously below the stage. So when the sound of a child's wailing suddenly echoed through the hall, he was startled more than the other spectators.
"Oh dear."
Following his grandmother's sighing gaze, Matthias finally spotted the little girl who had burst into tears.
"Teacheeeer!"
Sobbing at the top of her lungs, the child stared toward Leila below the stage. With the girl now utterly incapable of delivering her lines, the other children began floundering in confusion.
Will she be able to handle this?
Matthias's eyes narrowed as he watched Leila. When the Principal hurried over and muttered something to her, she flinched in shock, recoiling slightly. But it must have been an order she couldn't refuse, for she eventually climbed onto the stage with hesitant steps. By now, the audience's attention had shifted entirely to the young teacher who had stepped up to console the crying child.
"That teacher—it's that girl. Bill Remmer's foster daughter."
A smile rose to Katharina von Herhardt's lips as she recognized Leila.
Crouched behind the prop flower bushes on stage, Leila soothed and coaxed the crying child. Yet even if the tears stopped, the girl seemed unlikely to refocus on the play. Worse, if this situation dragged on any longer, the other flustered children might also burst into tears.
The Principal, having apparently decided on drastic measures, called Leila to the edge of the stage and thrust a bundle of papers into her hands. Again, Leila shook her head vehemently, but ultimately couldn't refuse the Principal's will.
Returning behind the flower bushes, Leila frantically flipped through the pages in her hands. After clearing her throat with several false starts, she began reciting the flower fairy's lines in place of the child.
"Woo—ow. Kids. Look. At. This. So. Pretttty. Flowers. Blooming. Here."
As her trembling voice rang out clearly, the murmuring audience quieted again. But it didn't seem like order had been restored. Rather, one might say everyone was too stunned by the greater shock to speak.
"No. No. Don't. Pick. Them. Or. The. Flowers. Will. Huuuurt."
For a moment, Matthias couldn't quite grasp what he was hearing. In an accent so awkward it bordered on bewildering, Leila haltingly delivered her lines. Yet even so, as the play's momentum continued, the other children seemed to gradually regain their composure.
The flower fairy didn't have many lines, but each time they came, the audience rippled. No matter how sternly one vowed not to laugh, resisting laughter before such earnestly clumsy acting proved torture.
Eventually, scattered giggles erupted throughout the auditorium. Even Katharina von Herhardt, who'd been struggling to maintain her dignity, finally broke and laughed.
Watching his grandmother's smiling profile, Matthias turned his gaze back to Leila struggling on stage. The now dry-eyed child stood blankly beside the stiffly crouched teacher who was desperately studying her script.
Frowning, Matthias leaned sideways against the armrest, observing Leila.
As if wanting to thank the teacher who'd taken her place, the child carefully removed her own flower crown and placed it atop Leila's head. Too focused on following the script's flow, Leila didn't seem to notice.
"Such. A. Greeeat. Party. Ha—ha—ha. So. Exciting."
When the scene called for the invited flower fairy to laugh, even Matthias finally burst out laughing. By now, Leila's cheeks burned as red as the rosebuds in the crown the child had given her.
Matthias could confidently declare two things: that throughout the play, the audience had most eagerly awaited the flower fairy's sparse lines, and that tonight, the village school's lower-grade play would be remembered as the best-received performance.
Having fulfilled her role, Leila scampered offstage as the play neared its end. The audience gave warm applause for the young teacher's hard-fought efforts.
Still smiling, Matthias gladly joined in the applause. For the beautiful fairy who'd given such terribly wonderful acting—the true star of tonight's show.