Chapter 76
Chapter 76
Translation: godsn
"I heard about Uncle Bill."
It was Kyle who first broke the long silence that had stretched between them.
"Yeah."
Leila kept her gaze fixed on the edge of the table as she gave her short reply.
Kyle studied her more intently, his eyes deepening with concern. Since they'd entered this café and sat down together, Leila hadn't looked at him even once.
"I'm sorry, Leila."
"...Why you?"
At the weighty apology, Leila finally lifted her head. Her eyes behind the glasses were filled with nothing but questions. Seeing that familiar spark in her gaze, Kyle felt a wave of relief wash over him. For the first time since they'd sat down, he felt like he was truly facing the real Leila.
"For not being able to help at all. For not even knowing what was happening, for just sending stupid letters all that time."
"No, Kyle. Don't say that. You didn't do anything wrong. This was between Uncle Bill and me—it had nothing to do with you."
Leila shook her head slowly, her gesture firm.
"It was just... an unfortunate accident. It's all... settled now."
"You're okay now? Really?"
"Yeah."
Leila lowered her long lashes again. The cuffs of her sweater, which she kept tugging down, had now slipped so far they nearly covered the backs of her hands.
"If something's wrong, just tell me honestly, Leila. I'll help. Whatever it is, I'll help."
"Why do you keep saying things like that?"
"Because you don't look okay at all."
Kyle's voice carried a new intensity. Leila abruptly stopped tugging at her sleeves, took a slow, deep breath, and hid both hands beneath the table.
"Leila, do you think I don't know you?"
Now Kyle was certain. His ominous premonition had been right. Seeing her up close like this, Leila was acting even less like herself than before.
Uncle Bill had clearly loved Leila with all his heart, but he hadn't been the type to pick up on unspoken feelings or care for her with that kind of sensitivity. And Leila was the kind of child who hid her emotions to a fault—stubbornly refusing to reach out for help, no matter how much she was hurting. A fool who acted smart.
Ever since realizing this, Kyle had developed a habit of watching Leila closely. The brighter her smile, the harder he looked. Of course, Leila was far more skilled at hiding than he was at finding, so there were always emotions he couldn't quite grasp—but still, he'd learned to trust his vague intuitions. Like now.
"Talk to me, Leila. Hmm? Not answering any of my letters for months, treating me like this now—none of this is like you."
"People change, Kyle."
Leila opened her eyes slowly and met Kyle's gaze. Her calm, subdued expression even carried a hint of coldness.
"Just because I'm not the person you knew doesn't mean this isn't me. This is who I am now."
"You expect me to believe you changed in just two seasons? You, of all people?"
"I don't think it was such a short time. Besides, we can't go back to how we were before."
"Leila!"
"I didn't reply because that was my answer. Kyle, we're over. There's nothing left to go back to. Nothing."
Staring straight at Kyle, Leila drove each word home like hammering nails.
"I don't like you anymore, Kyle. Even if Mrs. Etman gave her permission, I wouldn't want it now. Running away together, leaving our hometown behind to get married? I can't even imagine something like that."
Leaving Kyle stunned in his seat, Leila stood up to leave.
"I didn't want to say this to you. I wanted to at least keep our friendship as a precious memory. That's why I avoided replying... but in the end, it had to come to this."
"Don't lie. How could you—"
"This is the only answer I can give you. So if you have even a shred of care left for me, let's never meet again. I don't want people mentioning our names together anymore. Please, Kyle."
Trapped in the surreal feeling of being awake yet dreaming, Kyle couldn't muster a reply. By the time his senses jolted back to life with the chime of the café's bell, Leila had already gathered her things and left.
"Wait! Leila!"
Kyle hurriedly chased after her and grabbed the shoulder of Leila, who was about to mount her bicycle. When she turned her head to look at him, her eyes were reddened, as if tears would spill any moment. That was why. He couldn't utter another word. It felt like a cracked glass pane—just a little more pressure, and it would shatter into pieces.
Shaking off his grasp, Leila hastily rode her bicycle and disappeared down the road. Even after her figure vanished from sight, Kyle stood there dumbfounded for a long while.
He was certain something had happened. Something he absolutely had to uncover and stop.
"Wow. This is a complete disaster."
Liet surveyed the greenhouse under reconstruction with an amused tone. Even when Claudine shot him a glare, he paid no heed and even let out a chuckle.
"Laughing in the face of such tragedy. I never knew you could be so heartless, Liet."
"Can you blame me for being surprised? Who could've predicted this? Arvis's paradise reduced to this state overnight."
Liet slowly scanned the surroundings.
During his last visit, the greenhouse had been a flawless embodiment of paradise, but now it lay in utter ruin. The flowerbeds, dug up to remove frozen plants, looked like bombed-out wastelands.
"To show such mercy to a gardener who caused this level of damage, even allowing them to continue working at Arvis... Truly befitting a noble family revered across the empire."
"Perhaps she's performing her duties as a mistress quite satisfactorily."
"Did I just hear such words from the lips of Lady Brandt?"
Liet's eyes widened slightly. Claudine, who had been biting her lip, soon regained her usual composed expression.
"My apologies, Liet. That was uncalled for."
"No need for apologies. It's refreshing. A jealous Lady Brandt finally showing some humanity."
"Jealous? Hah..."
Claudine shook her head emphatically and strode out of the greenhouse ahead of him.
She had brought Liet, who had just arrived at Arvis, here seeking comfort. Perhaps she had wanted to indulge in a bit of self-pity. Deep down, she knew he would only tease her like this, yet the most absurd part was that his attitude actually comforted her.
The two headed toward a small parlor where tea had been prepared. The atmosphere was lively and warm, with all members of the Herhardt family present except for the Duke himself.
Claudine and Liet each played their roles flawlessly—the Duke's fiancée and the amiable cousin—with practiced ease.
Every now and then, when her eyes met Liet's across the table, Claudine wondered: What if her parents had chosen the Lindmans instead of the Herhardts? But even in those moments, she knew. Her parents had made the right choice in securing the title of Duchess of Herhardt, not Marchioness of Lindman, for their only daughter.
The world was changing at an ever-increasing pace. And perhaps that change would come down hardest upon the nobility, those symbols of a bygone era. The Brandts, a prestigious financial family of the empire, had an exceptional eye for reading such tides. Though Claudine had not received formal heir training due to being a daughter, her innate instincts and the knowledge she had absorbed over the years told her the same.
Thus, it had to be the Herhardts.
Even if countless illustrious names were swept away by the waves of revolution, the Herhardts would stand firm and bask in the glory of the new era. The future Claudine desired lay within that name—a future that would never become the past, an eternal present of splendor.
"The greenhouse should be restored to its former glory by Claudine's wedding, shouldn't it?"
Before she knew it, the conversation at the tea table had shifted to the wedding next summer.
Under the approving gazes of the noblewomen, Claudine lowered her eyes with appropriate modesty. When she lifted her head after a while, she met Liet's soft brown eyes. She had always liked that playful, affectionate glint in them—since childhood. And perhaps she always would.
But she had already come too far to turn back now.
With a faint smile playing on her lips, Claudine straightened her posture once more. She would neither look back nor harbor regrets. Therefore, the future she had chosen must unfold exactly as she had envisioned. To compensate for all the happiness she had forsaken, it had to be utterly flawless.
As the discussion of Claudine's marriage concluded, the conversation naturally flowed toward Liet von Lindman's own marriage prospects. The young lady in question was someone Claudine knew well—a pretty and kind-hearted girl from a respectable family. It would be a favorable match that the Lindman family had no reason to decline.
When some free time was granted before the evening banquet, Claudine excused herself to the guest bedroom, citing a slight headache. While her maid went to fetch medicine, Claudine sat before the fireplace, quietly watching the flames.
The Leila Lewellin she knew was intelligent and, above all, possessed a pride too noble for her station. Such a woman could never live contentedly as a mistress hidden in a man's shadow—she would inevitably disappear when the time came.
But there was always the possibility of "what if."
Claudine had not the slightest intention of foolishly confronting that possibility unprepared. Just as she steeled her resolve, the maid returned with the medicine.
As Claudine adjusted her posture, the maid hurried forward—only to trip over the edge of the carpet and tumble down with a crash. A startled shriek rang out, followed by the clattering of the tray, medicine bottle, and water glass scattering across the floor.
"Are you all right?"
Frowning, Claudine rose and slowly approached the maid. The red-faced girl scrambled to her feet in a fluster.
"Yes! Yes, my lady. I'm so sorry. Truly, I apologize."
"My, but you don't seem fine at all."
Claudine's gaze lingered on the maid's hand. Blood welled from a cut where a shard of the broken glass had nicked her skin.
"It's nothing. Just a little sting—this kind of wound heals quickly..."
"No."
Claudine cut her off with a gentle smile.
"But now you can't use your right hand, which makes attending to me rather difficult."
"Eh? My lady, this is..."
"Isn't that so, Marie?"
"Ah... Yes. Yes, my lady."
The maid, quick to read the situation, hastily bowed her head in agreement. This maid had served Claudine since childhood, following her from the Brandt household. Tight-lipped and perceptive, she had long enjoyed Claudine's favor.
Before long, the maid's injured right hand was securely bandaged. Shortly after, Claudine gracefully made her way to the drawing room where Elise von Herhardt and the noblewomen were conversing. As expected, the sight of the injured maid elicited the exact reaction Claudine had anticipated.
"Claudine, this is most inconvenient for you. Let me assign one of our housemaids to attend you."
"Oh no, that won't be necessary. With preparations underway to receive such esteemed guests, every servant at Arvis is swamped with work. I couldn't possibly take any hands away from their duties."
When Claudine declined, Elise von Herhardt's eyes widened in surprise.
"But Claudine, you can't possibly manage without an attendant. It would make us most uneasy."
"In that case... might I request Leila?"
"Leila? You mean the gardener's ward, that Leila?"
"Yes. We've known each other since childhood, so I'm quite comfortable with her. And since it's her school break now, she shouldn't be too busy. If you'd permit it, I'd like to have Leila by my side for a few days."
Though Countess Brandt shot her a sharp glance, Claudine paid no heed and continued politely.
"I'm not certain an inexperienced girl like her could properly attend to your needs."
"She'd only need to assist with tasks my maid finds difficult due to her injury—it shouldn't be too troublesome. Truthfully, I'd like her company more than anything."
"Well... she has been close to you since childhood. Perhaps Leila would indeed be most comfortable for you."
Nodding, Elise von Herhardt rang a bell to summon a maid.
"Bring Leila here."