Chapter 44
44
First Autumn
“Good heavens! Good grief! Leila, again!”
The clamorous shout from beneath the tree nearly made Leila drop the apple she was about to bite into.
She barely managed to clutch the apple and looked down to see the face she had expected: Madam Mona, arms firmly crossed, glaring up at her with wide eyes.
“Hello, Madam Mona. The weather’s lovely today, isn’t it?”
Leila greeted her innocently as she tucked the apple and book into her bag. Madam Mona’s furrowed brow deepened as she watched Leila lightly climb down from the tree. Just then, Bill Leamer returned to the cottage.
“This is all your fault, Mr. Leamer!”
Madam Mona clicked her tongue and snapped at Bill, who had just set down his cart.
“I told you to raise her to be a proper young lady—me, who’s raised three daughters of my own—and you ignored every bit of my advice. Now what are you going to do about this? A grown woman, a teacher no less, climbing trees!”
“What law says a schoolteacher can’t climb trees? If she’s good at her job, that makes her a good teacher!”
Bill, who had been surveying the situation with a baffled expression, raised his voice in rebuttal. Ever since Leila had stayed on in Arbis, the two had never once agreed on how to raise her.
Leila started to say she was an adult now but held back, glancing around cautiously before sidling up to Uncle Bill.
“See? This is why it’s no good, Mr. Leamer. You should’ve spanked that tomboy right out of her!”
Leila flinched at Madam Mona’s chilling lament and absently rubbed her own backside. Cowed by her intensity, Bill had sidled up beside Leila as well, standing in a penitent posture like a child in the corner.
After a lengthy scolding, Madam Mona thrust the basket full of food she had originally come to deliver at them and departed. Bill and Leila exchanged glances and burst into laughter at the same time.
“I feel like I just got a spanking with words.”
“No good, Leila. From now on, you’ll have to climb trees when that woman’s not around. Her voice is so loud, a few more scoldings and I’ll go deaf.”
“Yes. For your sake, too, Uncle.”
Nodding, Leila picked up the heavy basket and skipped lightly toward the cottage. The worn tool bag slung over her shoulder swung and clinked along with her steps.
“Anyway, that blasted old bag of hers. I really ought to burn it one of these days.”
Bill glared at the bag he always swore to get rid of but never did, a bittersweet smile of relief crossing his face.
Contrary to Bill’s worries, Leila lived her days with pluck and vigor. When the new semester began, she took up the teacher’s mantle as a fledgling educator. She floundered and made mistakes at first, feeling dejected, but she overcame it quickly enough.
Lately, it seemed school had become quite enjoyable for her. Bill, who had fretted whether a child like her could handle teaching other children, was able to breathe a sigh of relief. But he also knew about the wounds and sorrow Leila kept tightly hidden in a corner of her heart.
She was the sort of girl who grew attached even to that one old bag and couldn’t bear to throw it away. No one knew better than Bill what Kyle had meant to her. Before it was a young love, he had been her best friend, almost like blood kin. The pain of losing him couldn’t heal so quickly. Leila was too sentimental to let go that easily.
So, not yet.
Bill tucked Kyle’s letter, which he had agonized over whether to deliver, deep into his pocket once more.
Even after leaving for Ratz, Kyle sent Leila a letter every week without fail. And the mail carrier always delivered them to Bill. It was something Bill had specifically requested, and the carrier had kindly obliged.
He knew it was cowardly and cruel. Unbecoming of an adult. But even if guilt and remorse over Kyle weighed on his heart, protecting Leila was far more important to him right now.
“Uncle!”
Leila, sitting in a chair on the porch, waved enthusiastically. Bill smiled sheepishly and walked over to her.
The two sat side by side, sharing the apple and enjoying the cool, dry breeze. The forest had donned the colors of autumn, dazzling in its splendor.
“By the way, I think I need to speak with that butler. Could you put in a word for me, Uncle?”
“The butler? You mean Hessen?”
“Yes. It’s about school.”
Leila meticulously wiped the juice from her fingers with a handkerchief from her apron pocket.
“I’ve been tasked with asking the ducal household if the children can come to Arbis forest for an autumn picnic.”
“Hessen will handle getting an answer for you. I’ll pass it on for you.”
“I was a little worried it might be rude.”
“Rude? Nonsense. The ladies of the house are generous about such things and will gladly permit it. They’re patrons of the school, after all.”
“Patrons?”
Leila’s eyes widened round.
“The Herhardt family are patrons of my school?”
“You didn’t know that?”
Bill replied offhandedly.
“There aren’t many schools around here that don’t receive Herhardt patronage.”
“I see…”
Leila murmured softly to herself. She squeezed her eyes shut to banish the duke’s face that had suddenly sprung to mind.
In this Kalsbar, it felt like there was no escaping the shadow of the Herhardt name, no matter where she went. And it wasn’t just a feeling—it was reality.
The king of Kalsbar.
That was what the city’s people called the Herhardt ducal house. A top-tier imperial noble family that could stand toe-to-toe with the imperial line. They were the symbol and pride of Kalsbar.
“Why? Has something happened with the ducal household? Did that arrogant noble miss give you trouble again?”
Leila startled at Bill’s question and shook her head.
“No, nothing like that.”
The duke’s face, his gaze, the breathless moments of facing that man flashed through her mind one by one, but Leila couldn’t say a word.
“Let’s have some tea, Uncle.”
Leila sprang to her feet and hurried to the kitchen before Bill could respond. She set the kettle on and transferred the cake from Madam Mona onto plates.
The days were growing shorter, and the house was already dim, but Leila didn’t light the lamps. As if to hide her turmoil in the darkness.
There was no need to rush.
That was Mathias’s view on Leila Llewellyn. He intended to have her, but that didn’t mean he was desperate to charge ahead.
“There’s Miss Llewellyn, coming this way.”
Mark Evers, the attendant, said with a chuckle upon spotting Leila walking down Platanus Avenue with the children. Once Leila became a proper adult teacher, the people of Arbis had started calling her ‘Miss Llewellyn.’
“Must be the day of their picnic.”
The chauffeur chimed in.
It was his grandmother who had permitted the village schoolchildren’s autumn outing to Arbis. His mother had nodded agreeably as well. Such matters traditionally fell under the lady of the house’s purview, so Mathias respected their decision.
Leila was surrounded by the low-grade students, who were about as tall as she had been when she first arrived in Arbis. She still dashed about the woods like a child herself, but in front of her pupils, she conducted herself with remarkable maturity.
Mathias let out a silent scoff and turned away from the car window. Soon after, the car carrying him passed Leila and the children. But her afterimage lingered in his mind for quite some time afterward.
Toying with Leila Llewellyn had become Mathias’s greatest amusement lately.
The more slyly he tormented her, the more vividly her emotions shone. Those emotions were usually some mix of bewilderment, anger, shame, and fear, but the exact name didn’t matter. It was far more entertaining than a boring, obedient face smiling sweetly in submission—watching her fluster, rage, and snap back saucily.
Just last weekend, he had run into her in the glass greenhouse at the estate. Leila, helping Bill Leamer tidy the flower beds, had startled upon seeing him and dropped the basket on her arm. The dirt-covered bulbs spilled out onto the path’s paving stones with a clatter. Bill, working in a distant bed, didn’t seem to notice the commotion.
Mathias approached calmly and stood before her. When he nudged the round bulbs with his toe, Leila looked up indignantly. She seemed anxious about anyone seeing, but even then, her glare was bold as ever.
Remembering how people believed Leila Llewellyn was too kind and gentle to utter a harsh word, Mathias smirked. It wasn’t a bad feeling. He didn’t know how to share what was his. So Leila could just stay his prickly little spitfire like this.
The beautiful birds in the greenhouse—called Arbis’s Paradise—let out clear cries. Leila took several deep breaths, then swiftly gathered the bulbs as if determined to keep him from touching them, and stood.
After a quick bow, as she tried to flee, tripping her was an impulsive choice. Leila stumbled, dropping the basket again, the bulbs scattering once more across the stones. But she didn’t fall. Mathias’s arm had caught her waist like a snare.
Clamping a hand over her mouth to stifle a near-scream, Leila thrashed wildly. Even though the roses had all bloomed out this season, a faint rose scent wafted from her.
Releasing her, Mathias leisurely stepped back. When his gaze politely indicated the bulbs, Leila scowled deeply. Her eyes brimmed with defiance, but in the end, she had no choice but to obey.
Lips pressed tight, Leila bent down again to pick them up. And Mathias nudged them once more with his shoe, rolling them toward her. Her eyes and cheeks flushed red. Such a pretty color.
It might be nice to dye her whole body that shade. Pretty color. My color.
“What’s the afternoon schedule?”
Mathias asked as they neared the city center.
“Attending the board meeting is your last item today.”
A satisfactory answer.
Mathias checked his wristwatch and gave a short nod. He should be back in Arbis by early afternoon at the latest.
Stepping out of the car, Mathias looked up at the high, cloudless blue sky. The sunlight was warm, the breeze cool.
It was the perfect autumn day for a picnic.
