Chapter 65
Chapter 65
Translation: godsn
"It's alright now. I can go alone from here."
Leila faced the man who had been walking with her, her smile slightly awkward. He showed no intention of backing down, instead pointing down the road with an amiable grin.
"Not at all. We're almost there—let me see you home."
"Really, I... I'll go alone. The master is... quite strict."
Leila kept glancing around, worried someone from the estate might see her. Being spotted with another man, no matter how innocent, would undoubtedly stir unwanted rumors. Even if nothing was between them, gossip had a way of growing wilder with each retelling.
"Ah, I see."
The man sighed, clearly disappointed.
"Then I'll take my leave here. But how about lunch together this Sunday?"
"No, I—"
"If this week is too busy, next week is fine too! Unless you find sitting across from me utterly unbearable, let's meet just once more."
His face flushed with bashfulness, but his voice was firm.
"A quick cup of tea wasn't enough—I'd like to talk longer, just once. And if your feelings remain the same then, I won't push you further. I promise."
His stubborn expression made it clear he wouldn't leave without a definite answer.
She barely knew him—just the son of a general store owner who occasionally delivered goods to the school. So when she was abruptly summoned to the principal's office that afternoon and found him waiting there, the shock had been overwhelming. Learning that the principal was his distant relative and had arranged this matchmaking only left her mind blank.
Flustered, Leila scanned the surroundings again. That was when she heard the sound of a car approaching from behind. Please, no. She wished it was just her imagination, but the noise only grew louder and clearer.
Before she could react, the headlights pierced the dimming street, illuminating where they stood. The car slowed slightly as it passed them before resuming its speed and turning the corner. It was the Duke of Herhardt's car.
"Miss Lewellin?"
The man's cautious voice snapped her back to reality. She hadn't realized she'd been spacing out.
"I'm sorry."
Leila bowed her head slightly in apology.
"I... don't think I'm ready for this. I truly apologize."
Though she'd been pushed into this by the principal and had reluctantly shared tea with him, the idea of meeting someone with marriage in mind was the furthest thing from her heart. Maybe someday, but for now, she just wanted to work hard and live quietly.
"Ah... I understand."
The man couldn't hide his disappointment, but he respected her decision. He even apologized himself—for pressuring the principal into arranging this and making her uncomfortable.
He left with a dejected expression. Guilt gnawed at her for hurting a good person, but this had been the only choice. If she'd let herself be swayed, she would've only hurt him more in the long run. Just like she had with Kyle.
The moment that name crossed her mind, her gaze darkened.
She often wondered how he was doing, but she knew well that wishing him happiness from afar was all she could do. No matter how much she missed him, the days when they could walk this path together, laughing and talking without restraint, would never return.
Leila stood motionless long after the man had left, until darkness fully settled over the road. The uneasy weight pressing down on her only grew heavier. What if she turned that corner and ran into the Duke? And that unease brought back memories of her first autumn with him—that strange, unforgettable season.
Taking slow, deep breaths of the cold air, Leila envisioned the approaching spring. A season to start anew, in a new place, with a new heart.
She hoped to find a room with large windows if possible. Sunlight streaming in would keep the loneliness at bay when she was alone. And if she could be so fortunate, she wished for a tree visible beyond those windows—or if not that, then at least a nearby park or forest. So that when she missed Arvis, she could still breathe in the scent of grass and trees.
As these thoughts wove through her mind, the restless pounding in her chest gradually settled. Summoning her courage, Leila gripped the handlebars of her bicycle and carefully rounded the corner. Thankfully, the empty stretch of Platanus Road was filled only with white moonlight and the shadows of towering trees.
With a sigh of relief, Leila mounted her bicycle with newfound lightness. The lively sound of pedaling echoed through the quiet road.
Kyle's face stiffened with the usual tension as he opened the mailbox. The cautious flicker of hope that had risen upon spotting a few letters was soon erased by a bitter smile. Though he sent letters every week, Leila had never once replied.
Letting out a quiet sigh, Kyle dragged his feet weakly as he climbed the dormitory stairs. His room was situated on the eastern side of the third-floor corridor. With the semester break just around the corner, the dorm buzzed with students packing to return home, but Kyle's room remained as silent as ever.
Stepping into the dim dormitory room, Kyle set the letters down on the console by the entrance. One was an invitation to a social club, the other a letter from home.
Leaving the unopened envelopes untouched, Kyle flopped onto his bed. Moonlight streamed through the gap in the curtains, casting striped shadows over him.
"Why not take a trip during your first break?"
A few days ago, Dr. Etman had casually suggested it. Traveling across the continent to broaden one's horizons had become something of a trend among the wealthy university students in the capital. Of course, his father's reasons for proposing the trip lay elsewhere.
Kyle had brushed it off with a noncommittal answer. He knew returning to Leila's side like this would be meaningless—but so would leaving on such a journey. Maybe it was better to hole up in this dormitory, as he had all semester, and lose himself in his studies like a half-mad man.
"There's no place in this world where just the two of us can be happy, Kyle. No such place exists."
Closing his eyes, Leila's words returned to him, accompanied by that sad smile. So did the memory of his own helplessness—how he had been unable to offer any response. And as always, that memory ended with a crushing self-loathing. He despised his own powerlessness. Outside his parents' shadow, he was nothing—utterly incapable of protecting even one girl.
If I become a doctor, could I find a place where we could be happy? But that day feels so far away. How can I endure such a long time without you? These past few months alone have stretched like an eternity, driving me mad.
Kyle lowered the arm covering his eyes and stared at the ceiling.
Now that he had come of age, he could freely manage the inheritance his grandfather had left him. Why hadn't he thought of it sooner? Without realizing it, he sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair.
After staring blankly into space for a while, Kyle suddenly stood and strode to his desk. His hands were restless, impatient as he searched for pen and paper.
"Why is everyone suddenly so desperate to find you a husband?"
Bill Remmer wore a bewildered expression as he watched Leila set the dinner table. She had just finished telling him about the principal forcing her to meet the son of a general store owner earlier that day.
"Everyone, you say?"
"The Duchess, too—out of nowhere, she asked Hessen if there weren't any suitable men to be your groom. That gossipy Mrs. Mona told me all about it today."
"Why would Her Ladyship say such a thing?"
"Who knows. Maybe she's taken a liking to you, Leila."
Bill didn't even try to hide the proud look on his face.
"That can't be."
Leila, who had just placed the freshly baked bread from the stove onto the table, sat across from Bill with an exasperated smile.
"There's no other reason she'd personally take it upon herself to find you a husband. Hmm. So, Leila, what do you think?"
Bill subtly studied Leila's expression.
"Uncle, you're not... getting tired of me or anything, are you?"
"What kind of nonsense is that?"
"If that's not the case, then I want to live with you for a long, long time."
"Even if Her Ladyship introduces you to a prospective husband?"
"If there were a man more wonderful than you, I'd gladly meet him, but sadly, I don't think such a man exists in this world."
Leila laughed brightly and nonchalantly, but it only made Bill's heart ache more. The reason she kept turning down all these suitors might very well be because of Kyle. No—it was definitely because of Kyle.
Kyle still sent letters. As the stack of letters secretly intercepted from Leila grew, so did Bill's guilt. Tearing apart such a devoted bond was unforgivable, yet there was no way to reunite the two. It was enough to drive him mad.
"Leila, just hypothetically..."
Bill spoke on impulse.
If Leila still held lingering feelings for Kyle, perhaps he could help them marry—even if it meant cutting ties with the Etman family. There'd be an uproar, but Kyle and Leila could settle down in the capital. It might work. Of course, if that happened, staying on as the gardener at Arvis would be impossible, but for Leila's sake, he could live with that. And who knows? Maybe if years passed and they had a grandchild to dote on, even that insufferable Mrs. Etman might soften her stance.
"Uncle?"
Leila's eyes narrowed as she watched him fall silent.
"I mean—ah, right! The chicken! The chicken."
"Chicken?"
"W-what if we slaughtered a chicken tomorrow? Yeah. That's what I meant to ask. Must be getting old. Keep forgetting what I'm about to say."
Bill fumbled awkwardly. It was better to think things through before making impulsive decisions. Fortunately, Leila didn't seem to notice anything amiss and chuckled, nodding.
"Sure, Uncle. Let's have roast chicken tomorrow!"
Matthias turned up the phonograph slightly before turning away. The bedroom, with all its lights extinguished, was illuminated only by the glow of the fireplace.
Settling deep into the warm embrace of the wingback chair, he watched as the bird perched on the opposite armrest fluttered over. As Matthias whistled along to the waltz drifting from the phonograph, the canary soon joined in, its clear chirps harmonizing with the melody.
His bird was clever.
Though he'd never trained it, one day, it had simply begun singing along to the music. Thanks to that, many of his evenings were now spent listening to music with the bird. Mostly waltzes. Occasionally, he played symphonies or piano sonatas, but as far as Matthias knew, his canary sang waltzes most beautifully.
When the music faded, the crackling of the fireplace once again filled the bedroom.
Matthias stroked the tiny head with his fingertip, as if praising the bird's song. Accustomed to his touch, the canary rubbed its beak against his hand like a child seeking affection.
With a quiet chuckle, Matthias carried the canary perched on his finger to its cage. As he lowered his hand, the bird flitted inside and settled into its nest.
After locking the golden cage, Matthias turned off the phonograph just as the next song began to play. Lying back on the bed, he stared at the ceiling and let out a weary sigh.
"Goodnight."
He turned his head to bid the bird farewell. As if understanding, the canary nestled into its cozy perch and drifted into a deep slumber. The eyes that watched it no longer held any trace of a smile.