Chapter 78
Chapter 78
Translation: godsn
The room, illuminated only by a single lamp on the desk, was filled with a diluted, soft darkness.
Leila sat on the bed hugging her knees, staring blankly at the lamplight. Though night had long since fallen, sleep refused to come. The more she tossed and turned, forcing herself to sleep, the clearer her mind became instead.
Startled by the rattling of the window from the fierce wind, Leila jerked her head toward the sound.
Even though she had personally latched Phoebe's cage door, for a fleeting moment, she thought it might be the pigeon bringing a letter. Even though she knew Phoebe no longer flew to the Etman family's window. Even though she knew the Duke, who had newly tamed Phoebe, was no longer at Arvis.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Leila got up from the bed and draped a shawl over her shoulders. She hadn't planned to do anything in particular. She simply couldn't bear it anymore—the uneasy silence, the memories of her childhood wandering alone in this world that surged upon her like an ambush, the loneliness, sorrow, and fear that revived in the present.
Pacing around the room, Leila eventually stepped into the kitchen and drank a glass of water. But her lips soon dried and began to tremble. Trying to soothe her heart, she counted the days until Uncle Bill's return, only to feel even more desolate. It was ridiculous. It hadn't even been a day or two since Uncle Bill left. Why did being alone suddenly feel so piercing now?
After double-checking the already firmly locked doors and windows, Leila sat at the table with a cup of warm tea.
"Poor thing."
Claudine's words buzzed in her ears, mingling with the howling wind like tinnitus. Sip after sip of tea only made the coldness in her chest grow heavier, and Leila set the cup down weakly.
If only she could vent her anger like before—kicking pebbles and branches by the roadside—and forget everything. On her way back, Leila had walked with her head deeply bowed, staring only at her shadow cast by the moonlight.
She felt guilty and ashamed.
No matter what insults or wounds Claudine inflicted, it seemed she no longer had the right to feel hurt or upset. Because she had stolen Claudine's fiancé. Even if it was unwanted, in the end, she was the shameless one who had committed such an act.
I've fallen to a state where I can no longer pride myself on being a decent adult.
The moment she realized this with painful clarity, she hated that man unbearably. Her only consolation was that, at least, she had avoided the tragedy of playing the role of Claudine's maid in front of him. Of course, he would be disappointed—deprived of such an entertaining spectacle.
Pouring another cup of hot tea, Leila removed her glasses and set them at the edge of the table. Pressing her throbbing eyelids firmly, she let out a long sigh.
Now, Leila thought she understood. What she was to Matthias von Herhardt. To everyone else, he remained the perfect man, but only toward Leila did he discard the dark, shadowed, twisted remnants of his emotions.
He would never show such a side to Claudine in his entire life.
Biting her lip, Leila stood up decisively, as if shaking off her thoughts. After checking the locks once more, she peered softly out the window. The forest outside was swallowed by pitch-black darkness.
I hate that man.
All day long, the countless emotions tormenting her heart had ultimately hardened into hatred toward the Duke. The pain she had caused Kyle, the pain she herself had suffered in equal measure—Leila transformed all of it into hatred directed at him. She knew it was somewhat unfair. None of this could be solely blamed on the Duke. But even so, Leila wanted to hate him. And that was alright. She was allowed to.
"Perhaps I should thank you for that."
Leila curled up in bed only when dawn had deepened. Suddenly, the thought crossed her mind—she almost wished the man would return soon. So she could hate him to her heart's content. So her heart wouldn't have to ache like this.
"You've grown a bit since I last saw you, Kyle. You're becoming quite the young man now."
Katharina von Herhardt's face was filled with a benevolent smile as she looked at Kyle standing beside the family doctor. Kyle, too, met her gaze with a smile of his own. He was always such a well-mannered, likable boy.
"Thank you, Dr. Etman, for bringing Kyle along like this."
"Not at all. It's our pleasure to be able to visit and pay our respects. Isn't that right, Kyle?"
At his father's subtle prompting, Kyle nodded eagerly. His warm, cheerful grin made Katharina smile once more.
She had been meaning to see the boy ever since she heard he had returned home. Coincidentally, Dr. Etman had a house call scheduled, and he had kindly offered to bring Kyle along. The father and son had gladly accepted, making their way to Arvis together.
The examination didn't take long—Her Ladyship had nothing more than a slight cold, and her health was otherwise sound. Most of the time was spent in pleasant conversation and laughter. Knowing how fond the Dowager had always been of him since childhood, Kyle did his best to appear bright and healthy.
Leila.
Thankfully, he managed to hide the flicker in his eyes whenever her name crossed his mind.
Leila lied.
No matter how many times he turned that day's reunion over in his head, that was the only conclusion Kyle could reach. Once the house call was over, he planned to slip away at the first opportunity to see Leila. He had to find out why she had lied like that.
The visit only concluded when the Dowager, drowsy from the late hour, bid them farewell. Eager to leave, Kyle hurried out of the bedroom—only for a waiting maid to approach him just outside the door.
"Young Lady Brandt is waiting for Dr. Etman and his son."
The unexpected announcement made both father and son widen their eyes in unison.
"Young Lady Brandt—waiting for us?"
"Yes. She has invited you both to join her for tea."
Even when Dr. Etman pressed for confirmation, the maid replied calmly.
"You must go."
Her stubborn gaze made it clear she wouldn't take no for an answer.
With Elise von Herhardt and the other middle-aged noblewomen out for an afternoon in town, the parlor was quiet. Pale winter sunlight stretched across the room, falling over Claudine as she embroidered by the fireplace and Leila, seated across from her, absorbed in a book.
They should be done by now.
Claudine's needlework paused as she glanced toward the parlor door. Her gaze, resting on Leila—so engrossed in her book—was almost tender, like an adult indulging a naive child.
Matthias would return tomorrow. And Claudine wasn't foolish enough to let her fiancé witness his mistress being humiliated.
If today is the last day, then she deserves one final gift.
A soft smile curved Claudine's lips.
Over the past few days, Leila had played her role with surprising loyalty. She was still that same orphan with pride far above her station—unchanged since childhood—but there was no trace of the arrogance one might expect from someone backed by Matthias. If anything, she had been more docile and respectful than before. At this point, Claudine could almost call her a proper mistress.
A proper mistress.
As laughable a phrase as an honest thief—but for Leila, it was the highest praise. If she continued behaving so commendably, Claudine mused, keeping her around even after the marriage might not be so troublesome after all.
"Leila, it would have been so nice if you could have married Dr. Etman's son."
At Claudine's sudden remark, Leila looked up, seemingly flustered.
"Pardon?"
"Just what I said. Kyle, was it? It suddenly occurred to me that marrying him and studying at a university in the capital would have been the best life for you."
Leila's bewildered expression twisted into a frown, but Claudine didn't stop.
"The two of you were so well-suited. That boy would have been the one to make you happiest."
"Young Lady."
"Mrs. Etman is such a cruel woman. Did she really have to tear you and Kyle Etman apart like that?"
"I apologize, but Young Lady, that matter is in the past now. Kyle and I—"
"I know, Leila."
Claudine smiled, feeling a faintly sadistic pleasure as she gazed at Leila's face, still oblivious to everything.
"You and Kyle Etman are no longer in that kind of relationship. There's no going back now, and that's what saddens me the most."
Even if that boy were to return to take you away, you wouldn't be able to leave. You've become a pitiful creature, bound by the feet to the man who broke your wings.
Instead of voicing those words, Claudine looked at Leila with an even gentler expression.
Poor thing.
She could sigh and shower her with deep sympathy a hundred times over.
To think you've become the mistress of the man who ruined your life—truly pitiable, Leila. Consider this cup of tea, which you might have shared with Kyle Etman—who could have been your good husband—as my small gift to you.
At the butler Hessen's summons, the servants of the ducal residence hurriedly gathered in the lobby. Duke Herhardt, who wasn't expected back until tomorrow evening, had returned earlier than planned.
"O-oh, you've returned, my lord."
Hessen, stepping briskly out to the entrance, greeted him in an uncharacteristically flustered manner. The servants bowing behind him weren't much different.
Matthias responded with a slight nod before striding purposefully across the lobby.
"Her Grace is out, and Her Ladyship is taking her afternoon nap."
"Then, where is Lady Brandt?"
"Lady Brandt is in the small drawing room on the second floor."
Upon hearing Hessen's report, Matthias changed course and turned toward the second-floor corridor. Though concerned about Leila, who was acting as a maid, Hessen couldn't bring himself to speak up and simply followed his master. They encountered the Etmans just as they turned into the hallway leading to the drawing room.
"Good day, Your Grace."
Dr. Etman was the first to greet Matthias upon seeing him. Kyle, standing beside him, also bowed politely.
"Lady Brandt invited us for tea, so we were on our way there."
Dr. Etman answered courteously, sensing the question in Matthias's gaze.
"I see."
Matthias nodded with a habitual smile.
"Let's go together."
After briefly eyeing Kyle Etman, Matthias took the lead toward the drawing room. The Etmans followed, maintaining a distance of about two steps behind the Duke.
Hessen's face had turned as pale as a sheet at the sight. He should have prevented this absurd encounter, but he had no idea what to say or how to say it, so he could only part his lips helplessly.
"...M-my lord!"
The moment Hessen barely managed to speak, Matthias opened the drawing room door. Standing frozen in place, Matthias and the Etmans saw Claudine and Leila, equally rigid, beyond them.
Oh, God.
Swallowing that despairing sigh, Hessen squeezed his eyes shut instead.