Chapter 77
Chapter 77
Translation: godsn
For a moment, Leila couldn't comprehend what she'd just heard.
Though she'd listened carefully, the words swirled chaotically in her mind without forming any clear meaning. As if piercing through her confusion, Elise von Herhardt issued her command once more.
"For the time being, you'll need to assist Claudine. You'll be compensated handsomely, of course."
"But my lady, I've never done such—"
"Being Claudine's companion is something you've done since childhood, isn't it? There shouldn't be anything too difficult beyond that. You'll only need to help with tasks too burdensome for Claudine's maids."
Leila's brows furrowed, revealing her discomfort.
"I trust you won't refuse. Considering the mercy shown to Bill Remmer—the gardener who ruined the greenhouse Claudine so adored—surely you wouldn't begrudge offering her this small favor?"
The undisguised anger in Elise's voice when she spoke Bill Remmer's name was unmistakable. Ah, that gardener. The hushed whispers of other noblewomen murmuring in lowered voices continued after that icy command.
"Don't feel too burdened, Leila."
Claudine, who had been observing from a step away, added a kind word.
"I won't trouble you much. Just help with simple things, and you may spend the rest of your time doing your usual tasks in this mansion."
Claudine studied Leila's increasingly pale face with interest. At the very least, the girl deserved high marks for not being sly or brazen.
"I'm asking you properly, Leila. What do you say? Is that alright?"
Skillfully, Claudine guided Leila toward the only acceptable answer.
Hey, Claudine!
From across the room, Liet mouthed her name with a disapproving look, but Claudine didn't back down.
This was, in a way, preparation for what might come.
If the girl didn't disappear on her own, Claudine would have no choice but to live with her as her husband's mistress. In that case, establishing proper order would be necessary. As long as Leila didn't overstep her bounds and knew her place, Claudine had no intention of antagonizing a mistress.
"Child, isn't Claudine asking you personally?"
One of the watching noblewomen scolded Leila in a displeased tone. Leila looked at Claudine with the lost expression of a helpless child, her eyes desperately pleading for the command to be withdrawn.
Were those teary, pale eyes what had captured that heartless man's affection?
Claudine observed Leila with scholarly curiosity. There was no need to rush—the answer was already decided. And before long, Leila surrendered with a resigned reply.
"...Yes, my lady."
Leila bowed her head and clasped her hands tightly together.
"Thank you."
Claudine nodded with a bright smile.
"What a good girl you are, Leila."
For all four days in Latz, Matthias's schedule had been packed without respite.
Though most of the Herhardt family's businesses were headquartered in Carlsbar, the capital Latz held significant importance as well. As the hub for managing connections with the imperial family, political circles, and High Society, Latz was as crucial to the family as their own territory.
Thus, previous Dukes of Herhardt had spent half the year on their lands and the other half in the capital, strengthening the family's influence both internally and externally. After marriage and producing an heir, Matthias too would follow that same path.
So what if I leave that woman—Leila—here?
Matthias stared blankly at the ceiling of his study after a group of visitors had departed, lost in thought.
The Herhardt family's residence in Latz had served as the ancestral home for generations of the family's heads, but it was also the residence for the mistresses kept by those heads. Even the mistress his father had kept the longest and cherished most had lived in this very mansion.
Whenever Matthias visited the capital to see his father, he would naturally encounter her—and of course, both he and his mother accepted this as a matter of course. In return, his father ensured that matters concerning his mistress never crossed the walls of Arvis, maintaining propriety toward his wife and child. That was the order of the Herhardt household as Matthias knew it.
Yes. That would be best.
If he couldn't bring himself to discard her, if this desire persisted longer than expected, then adhering to that order was the right thing to do. Keeping Leila at Arvis after his marriage would be unthinkable.
But would that woman really...?
As Leila Lewellin's stubborn gaze flashed through his mind, Matthias unconsciously furrowed his brows.
He doubted Leila would meekly accept the life of a mistress. Above all, there was Bill Remmer, whom she valued as dearly as her own life. She was the type who would rather bite off her own tongue than reveal to him that she had become the Duke's mistress.
"Leila."
Whispering that name like an intoxicating liquor, Matthias slowly dragged a hand down his face.
That foolishly obstinate nature of hers, which he had once found rather endearing, now grated on his nerves unbearably. He could offer his mistress countless things, yet his beautiful mistress refused to accept even one.
A woman who, even when firmly grasped in his palm, never truly felt like his own. To possess her and yet still crave her—what kind of absurd feeling was this?
Lost in thought, fingers tracing his jawline, Matthias finally let out a long sigh, unable to reach any clear conclusion. And in that moment, he realized—he had been thinking of Leila out of habit. Even knowing full well that this feeling would only torment him, he kept returning to that vexing woman at every turn.
"Your Grace, Colonel Farrell has arrived."
A respectful knock preceded the announcement from his attendant, Mark Evers. With a brief nod, Matthias rose from his seat, straightening his attire. His steps as he left the study were firm and graceful.
"A short while ago, we received a response from the Natural History Museum regarding our inquiry."
Mark Evers reported as they walked down the corridor leading to the drawing room where the guest waited. Matthias paused briefly, and his attendant naturally halted as well.
"They informed us of the craftsman who created the new crystal ornament decorations for the museum's hallway ceiling last spring. A merchant named Kroken, who supplies jewels to the imperial family. Shall we place an order for an identical piece?"
"Have it done."
After nodding perfunctorily, Matthias took a step forward—only to turn his head again before even completing two strides.
"Ah. The wings—make them yellow."
"Pardon?"
"That ornament—order it with a bird that has yellow wings."
With that final instruction, Matthias lengthened his stride and crossed the hallway.
Vividly, the image of Leila's retreating figure flashed in his mind—how she had dashed toward the museum hallway, marveling like a child at the crystal ornaments shaped like colorful birds. The way she had stretched onto her tiptoes, reaching for the birds, her radiant smile, even the rush of emotion when he had followed her on impulse and swept her up into his arms—all of it.
If he gave her that, would she smile like she had that day?
Passing by the Natural History Museum in Latz, Matthias had suddenly been struck by the thought. And for that reason alone, he had given the order—to track down and commission the same ornament that had adorned the museum's hallway last spring. It was unlike him.
Come to think of it, that day at the museum, Leila had seemed utterly exhilarated and happy the entire time. She darted between all sorts of specimens and fossils, eagerly observing, taking notes, and marveling at everything.
If it meant she could attend the university she so desperately wanted in Latz, perhaps she might even accept it.
Matthias found himself thinking this as he reached the door of the drawing room.
Though it irked him that it happened to be the same university as Kyle Etman's, there was no real reason to dwell on it. Leila was already his woman now.
With a somewhat lighter heart, Matthias opened the drawing room door. In an instant, all personal emotions were wiped away, replaced by the perfect countenance of Duke Herhardt.
"Do you remember, Leila? This is where we first met."
Claudine spoke as if reminiscing about some beautiful childhood memory.
Leila, sitting rigid as a statue across from her, lifted her trembling eyes to glance around. Now that she thought about it, this very drawing room was where she had been dragged as a plaything and then abandoned by twelve-year-old Claudine von Brandt that summer.
"Yes, my lady."
Leila answered politely with downcast eyes.
Claudine hadn't lied when she said it wouldn't be difficult work. Aside from a few trivial errands, there was hardly any physical labor involved. Leila's role was simply to be the bored Young Lady Brandt's conversational companion—no different at all from her childhood role.
"It feels like just yesterday, yet so much time has already passed."
Claudine sighed deeply with a wistful expression. Just then, her injured maid entered, announcing it was time to change for the small tea party that afternoon.
Leila closed the book she'd merely been holding open and followed Claudine. In the guest bedroom where Claudine was staying, dresses and accessories chosen by the maids were already prepared. All Leila had to do was help her into them beautifully. The maid had said she could probably do it blindfolded, but for Leila, unfamiliar with such clothes and adornments, it was anything but easy.
"Good heavens, Miss Lewellin! That's not how it's done!"
A watching maid exclaimed in a fuss, rushing over. Leila's cheeks flushed faintly pink as she fumbled helplessly with the dress's intricate decorations.
"Now, now, Marie. You're making Leila flustered."
Claudine chided the maid, then gave Leila a kind smile.
"Go on, Leila. It's alright."
Seeing that Claudine had no intention of calling another maid, Leila tried her best to get through the task without mishap.
What would have taken a skilled maid mere moments ended up consuming a considerable amount of time, yet Claudine waited patiently without a single word of complaint. But in the end, it was a failure. Try as she might, there was no way Leila could perfectly replicate the elegance of a noble young lady.
Standing before the mirror, Claudine sighed softly and removed the hat Leila had placed on her. The subsequent slow, deliberate motions of removing the gloves, shawl, and necklace only made the moment feel more severe.
After redressing herself flawlessly, Claudine turned back to Leila with an ambiguous smile. Now she looked incomparably more elegant and refined than moments before.
"Poor thing."
Claudine gazed at Leila with calm, settled eyes. The helplessness those eyes evoked—so reminiscent of childhood—made Leila's body stiffen rigidly.
"You're still just a clueless child, aren't you?"
In a voice carefully devoid of disappointment or irritation, Claudine sighed the words as softly as a whisper.