Chapter 23
23
Tore, Crushed, and Discarded
Whenever Leila struggled, Mathias pinned her down, and the tighter his hold became, the more desperately she resisted.
Every time Leila opened her tightly shut eyes, as if dead, the scene filling her vision changed.
Shaking leaves and the sky, and Mathias.
The dirt floor flickering with the shadows of leaves, and Mathias once more.
A cloud of pale dust rose, enveloping the two of them as they tumbled together. Their fierce, intense kiss looked more like a fight.
At some point, Leila could no longer even grasp what she was doing. All that filled her was the terror of not being able to breathe and the desperate need to do so. But the duke’s momentum—sucking at her lips and tangling his tongue with hers—only grew fiercer. It felt exactly like being a live prey torn apart and devoured by a predator.
Leila’s hazy consciousness snapped back to life in a flash the moment Mathias’s lips touched her nape. Her blouse, its buttons ripped off, had come open enough to fully expose her collarbone.
As his lips obsessively teased the spot where her pulse throbbed, a hand that had roamed up her thigh and waist seized her heaving breast.
“Ah……!”
Leila shook her head violently, dizzy with the motion, and yanked at Mathias’s shirt. The buttons on his torn shirt soon flew off onto the ground as well. Red lines were vividly etched into Mathias’s nape where Leila’s nails had raked across. At the same time, a red mark from his lips was imprinted above her collarbone.
As those lips began to move below her collarbone, Leila burst into tears. She didn’t understand. She couldn’t comprehend any of this in the slightest, and that made it terrifying beyond measure—the heat of Mathias, the touch of his hands, these humiliating and utterly foreign sensations.
Fortunately, he didn’t go any further. Propping himself up with one arm, Mathias tilted his head to gaze down at her. It was then that Leila opened her tightly squeezed eyes.
His breathing was still ragged, but Mathias’s eyes didn’t look like those of a man swept away by lust. They were simply deep and calm, just like when he’d calmly stepped on the coin she’d dropped, trembling, or when he’d shot the bird without a second thought.
The humiliation of that fact flushed Leila’s face even redder. Mathias, who had been quietly staring at her even then, slowly opened his eyes, which he’d closed, even more slowly. As his breathing steadied somewhat, the subtle movement of his throat stopped.
The wind from the forest tousled Leila’s hair, now a mess. Staring at those golden waves, Mathias let the handful of dirt he’d gripped slip slowly from his fingers. He slid off her body and plopped down onto the ground. Then he took a careful look around. At the woman lying under the tree shade, sobbing. At the yard where the laundry fluttered on the line. At the shabby cottage. At himself, sitting there in disarray amid this absurd world.
With a low chuckle, Mathias swept back the hair that had fallen over his forehead. Leila was now curled up into a ball, catching her breath. Seeing her covered in dust and trembling made his laughter turn even more hollow.
All for you.
Erasing his smile with a long sigh, Mathias slowly wiped his wet lips with the back of his hand. A faint trace of blood smeared onto it.
Nothing at all, just for the likes of you……
When he looked back, Leila had crawled away on all fours until she reached the base of a tree. Clutching a picked-up branch tightly in her shaking hands, she glared at him. Tears still streamed from her wide-open eyes.
Mathias averted his gaze from the woman making such a pathetic display and slowly rose to his feet. His eyes, gazing down at the hand that had just gripped a handful of hot dirt, turned profoundly deep and serene.
You wouldn’t know. That this hand actually wanted to throttle your slender neck.
Picking up his jacket, Mathias turned away without hesitation or haste.
Berg’s summer was short. Soon, a cool wind would blow, and the seasons would change as if by magic.
Mathias knew that all too well.
Only after the Duke of Herhardt had completely vanished from sight could Leila finally stand.
She put on her retrieved glasses and staggered toward the cottage. Her legs still trembled so badly that she stumbled and had to pause several times.
She should have just fallen flat on the ground.
A wave of dark regret brought fresh tears surging up. No matter how much she rubbed at her lips with her hand or the hem of her apron she’d pulled up, the horrific sensations lingered stubbornly.
Finally reaching the pump, Leila worked it with all her might. Cold water splashed out of the bucket from the pressure, soaking her clothes, but she didn’t care.
“……No.”
She mumbled, not even sure what she was denying.
No. No. No.
As she shook her head and repeated the word, her breathing grew irregular again, and by then the bucket was full.
Clenching her trembling hands into fists, Leila glanced around frantically, like someone being chased. Everything was the same. This place she loved more than anything, Uncle Bill’s cottage, the coziest spot in the world.
Leaves rustled in the breeze, birds sang. Under the golden sunlight signaling the approach of sunset, the forest looked nothing but beautiful and peaceful. But Leila’s heart still pounded anxiously. She didn’t know what she was denying any more than she knew what she feared, but one thing was clear: she had to run from it.
Removing her glasses, Leila repeatedly splashed her face with water from the bucket. She rubbed at the red marks mottling her nape. She washed her ears. But the sensations that man had left behind remained vividly clear.
Staring blankly up at the sky, Leila suddenly gritted her teeth and lifted the bucket. Pouring the cold water over her from head to toe, she shivered as if chilled to the bone.
Still, furious at the tenacious memories that refused to fade, Leila fetched more water despite her trembling. This time, she cupped handfuls and thoroughly rinsed her mouth.
Ptooey.
She thought spitting out the water would wash away the memories too. So why did that bizarre, indecent incident keep resurfacing?
Ptooey, ptooey, ptooey.
Rinsing her mouth over and over, Leila accidentally swallowed some.
Choking and coughing, her eyes tearing up again, she fetched more water.
Strolling leisurely through the garden as if on a walk, Mathias stopped at the boundary where the rose bed met the marble steps leading to the mansion.
Even after brushing off the dirt, traces remained here and there. Of course, that didn’t matter. The problem was the memories. The farther he walked, the more sharply they came into focus.
The moment he’d held Leila in his arms, all rational thought had vanished. All that remained was a ravenous hunger to have her—like a beast in heat.
Mathias bit his lip and swept back the hair over his forehead.
He almost wanted to see the end of this horrific desire. It would be meaningless, empty, and ultimately trivial anyway. If only Leila, who knew nothing at all, hadn’t teared up. If only he could forgive himself for losing control so vulgarly over a woman like that. Perhaps then.
Lifting his head, he saw the mansion bathed in the afternoon’s golden sunlight. When he slowly turned back, the forest beyond the garden looked like a world of silent emptiness. A place with nothing, amounting to nothing, just that and nothing more.
A trivial fascination and desire for a beautiful woman. To dispel that utterly insignificant agitation at himself, Mathias slowly closed his eyes. Then, opening them again, he seized a bouquet of roses blooming in the bed as if ripping it out by the roots.
The crushed flower’s fragrance bloomed thick and vivid in his grip. It smelled like that woman’s body.
Tore, crushed, and discarded.
With each deliberate motion, torn and mangled petals scattered chaotically at his feet. Memories of the girl who crossed this garden followed those petals, one by one.
Every time she returned to Arbis, the child had grown a little more without fail. The scenes where that child stayed were always full of blooming roses. Snow fell quietly. Seasons cycled, the child grew into a woman, and those times flashed through his mind like a continuous reel.
But in the end, it was nothing at all.
Wiping his lips with his rose-scented hand, Mathias stepped boldly over the ruined petals. As sunset neared, a cool breeze blew in—the wind heralding the end of summer.
He ascended the steps and entered the mansion’s bright light without once looking back.
The western sky, where the sun had set, now took on a deep purple hue.
Darkness gradually seeped into the room, but Kyle didn’t light a lamp. Deep in the chair by the window, he simply gazed at the ever-changing sky.
Since returning from the cottage in Arbis, Kyle had stayed right there. When he wasn’t wearing his playful smile, his gray eyes had a rather cool edge.
He and Leila had eaten lunch together as if nothing was wrong. She’d tried to act normal, so he’d played along. But he knew. That moment wasn’t normal at all, and if he couldn’t find answers, he’d end up losing her.
Kyle rubbed his face as if washing it dry.
Leila had said she wanted to be good friends forever. That they needed to grow apart for that. He understood what she meant now. But Kyle thought differently. He’d stay by her side forever, but he didn’t want to just be good friends.
So, he couldn’t put it off any longer.
With his conclusion reached, Kyle stood decisively. He didn’t want to ruin these precious days with her, so it was time to lay his hidden feelings bare.
Taking a deep breath, Kyle opened the door and strode down the hall. Faint light leaked from his father’s study. Pausing before it, he straightened his clothes and steadied his breath once more.
He knew what the noble ladies his mother had introduced at the duke’s party meant. He couldn’t understand her already thinking of engagements or marriage, but today, he was grateful for it.
I won’t ever lose you. We won’t grow apart. How could we?
Recalling the words he’d said to Leila, Kyle knocked firmly.
“Father, it’s me.”
“Come in, Kyle.”
His father’s voice from beyond the door was as warm and kind as ever. Heartened, Kyle slowly opened the study door. Dr. Etman, seated at the desk, greeted his son with a smile.
Instead of plopping into the usual chair opposite, Kyle stood straight before his father.
“I have something to tell you, Father.”
“You seem unusually serious, so it must be important?”
“Yes.”
Kyle clenched his fist to muster his courage.
It was something he’d planned to say soon anyway.
Encouraging himself, he swallowed dryly.
Next year, he’d enter university and leave for the capital. Leila would stay in the city to become a teacher.
For a long time, Kyle hadn’t been able to accept that. The idea that there’d come a day without Kyle Etman by Leila Llewellyn’s side. And he’d thought: What if we go to university together? What if we study there—you becoming a scientist researching birds, me a doctor—and live together forever, just like always? As friends, lovers, and family.
“Mother seems to be thinking about my marriage now.”
Dr. Etman burst into cheerful laughter at Kyle’s words.
“She was a bit ahead of herself that day. Don’t worry too much, Kyle. I understand her feelings, but I think differently. No need to rush.”
“No, Father.”
Kyle met his father’s eyes with a resolute gaze.
“I want to think about marriage too.”
“Marriage? You, Kyle?”
Wrinkles slowly gathered at the corners of Dr. Etman’s eyes as he faced his son.
“Yes.”
Kyle answered with a sense of relief washing over him.
“I want to marry Leila and go to university together with her, Father.”
