Translator: Nox

Chapter 56

56

Phoebe

“Today again, I’m much obliged to you, Dr. Etman.”

Katarina von Herthart’s gaze upon Dr. Etman as he packed his medical bag was kindly as always. Dr. Etman met her eyes with his own warm smile.

“No need to mention it. I’m glad there’s nothing serious.”

“It’s an age where problems wouldn’t be at all surprising.”

“If you say that, I’ll feel slighted.”

Dr. Etman rose slowly and stood beside the bed where Lady Norma lay. It was just a light cold, but considering Lady Norma’s age, it wasn’t something to brush off lightly.

“This old lady has enjoyed such good years all thanks to you, Dr. Etman.”

Lady Norma’s gaze shifted to her daughter-in-law standing beside the doctor as she let out a light laugh.

“Isn’t that right, Elise?”

“Of course.”

Elise von Herhardt agreed readily.

“You’ve worked hard, Dr. Etman.”

“Not at all, ma’am. Then I’ll take my leave.”

“By the way. Kyle’s doing well, isn’t he?”

At her question, a brief flicker passed through the attending physician’s calm eyes. But he soon regained his composure and smiled.

“Yes. Fortunately, he’s immersed in his studies.”

“I see. Being so much like you, Dr. Etman, he’s sure to become a fine doctor.”

“It’s an honor that you think so.”

“He’ll return to Karlsvar for winter break, then.”

“It seems he hasn’t set firm plans yet.”

“Well, true. For his first break, he could stay in the capital enjoying social activities, or set off on a trip to broaden his horizons. Somewhere warm in the south.”

“Yes. Whichever it is, I plan to respect Kyle’s wishes.”

“Once the plans are decided, let me know. I can introduce him to a good social club. And if he travels, I’ll provide whatever assistance suits.”

Dr. Etman looked somewhat surprised by her unexpected consideration and kindness.

“Please give my regards to Mrs. Etman as well.”

Elise von Herhardt, who had seen the departing physician off to the bedroom door, added her farewell. Her tone was so gentle it was hard to believe she was speaking of someone she had cut ties with.

Dr. Etman offered a dignified smile before withdrawing. The servants followed suit, leaving only the two ladies of the duke’s house in the bedroom.

“You’ve taken quite an interest in Kyle, haven’t you, Elise.”

A smile rose on Lady Norma’s face as she leaned deeply into the cushion propping up her back.

“Thinking it over, you were right, Mother. If Kyle becomes a good doctor, it’ll benefit our Matthias. I’ve severed ties with Mrs. Etman, but as our family physician, I intend to respect the Etman line.”

“I’m pleased you see it that way.”

Lady Norma nodded in satisfaction. Barring any mishaps, Kyle Etman would become the duke’s family physician as well.

After sharing some more talk about Kyle Etman, the two ladies’ conversation naturally flowed toward Matthias, the living glory of this house, their proud heir.

“A little while ago, Matthias even attended the village school council meeting.”

Elise von Herhardt said, delighted.

“I was truly impressed that he pays attention to details like that.”

“Matthias seems to be learning how to become the head of the family much faster than we expected.”

Lady Norma marveled, and Elise von Herhardt agreed with pleasure.

“Of course. He’ll be the most perfect Duke of Herhardt.”

To put it simply, it was a coincidence.

It was a free day with no special engagements, so Matthias accepted Riet’s invitation to join her at a social club.

On the way back after passing a moderately enjoyable yet moderately tedious time, there was Leila.

The moment the car rounded the corner and entered the road leading to the mansion, Matthias recognized her. It was quite a distance away, but it could only be Leila. She was riding her bicycle down late autumn’s Platanus Avenue, wearing the white coat he had bought her.

“That girl—Leila Llewellyn, right?”

As the distance to the bicycling girl closed, Riet recognized her too.

“The young lady living in Arbis’s hunting grounds, the one who loves birds.”

Her tone was playful, but Riet’s eyes were serious. That gaze was fixed not on Leila, but on Leila’s observer—his cousin, the Duke of Herhardt.

Matthias gave a curt nod in place of an answer and gazed intently at Leila’s receding figure visible through the car window. She looked a bit weary on her way home from work, but her spirited pedaling was undiminished.

Noticing the car trailing behind, Leila pulled her bicycle to the roadside. By then, the car carrying Matthias and Riet had passed her. Up close, her shoes were the very ones Matthias had bought her too.

“She’s the village school teacher, right? On her way home from work, I suppose.”

Riet grinned, still watching Matthias.

“Likely.”

With that short reply, Matthias withdrew his gaze from Leila. But the soft curve at the corners of his mouth lingered. It was the sort of expression that anyone might mistake for first love—an impossibility on her cousin’s face—and Riet couldn’t tear her eyes away for quite some time.

“Something on your mind?”

Perhaps sensing her stare, Matthias suddenly turned his head. Riet masked her faint embarrassment with a brazen smile.

“The hunt, I mean. Your Grace should join us.”

Fortunately, a suitable excuse came to mind quickly.

“With guests already invited, it’d look strange if Arbis’s master stayed away.”

When Riet had announced plans for a weekend hunt in Arbis’s woods, requests to join had poured in from all quarters. Matthias had left that to Riet’s discretion as well.

“I can’t play lord of the manor in your territory, Matthias.”

The car carrying the two came to a stop before the mansion’s entrance.

Matthias paused in thought for a moment before agreeing readily. The forest would have Leila in it that weekend, after all.

“As expected.”

Riet laughed as though she’d finally seen the Matthias she knew and stepped out of the car.

“Now that’s the Duke of Herhardt.”

Matthias didn’t bother shrugging off Riet’s arm slung over his shoulder.

The two strode side by side toward the mansion’s lobby, light spilling out from it.

Phoebe was a clever pigeon. Clever enough to know just how to vent her frustration at being cooped up in the backyard cage.

It started with Bill Leamer.

That weekend morning, while Leila prepared breakfast, he’d fed Phoebe in her stead but forgot to lock the cage properly. Of course, Phoebe hadn’t realized it then. Stuffing herself with feed came first.

Phoebe sensed something off about the cage by the time Leila and Bill were out back raking the blanket of fallen leaves, chatting idly.

“Don’t go into the forest today, Leila. The duke’s out hunting with his friends.”

Leila let out a deep sigh at Bill’s words as he raked.

“It had been quiet for a while. Guess the duke hasn’t given up the hobby after all.”

“What good is a master marksman if he lets his skills rust?”

“You sound like you’re on the duke’s side, Uncle.”

“It’s not exactly picking sides…… who’s to say whose side there even is! Just, you know how it is.”

Leila chuckled as Bill hastily changed tack.

“Everyone in Arbis seems to like the duke.”

“There’d have to be a reason not to. No noble like him exists. Even that haughty noble miss snagged herself a proper match for a husband.”

“……Yes.”

Leila raked on, her smile even brighter.

Phoebe had stayed meekly in her cage up to then. Small wonder Leila hadn’t noticed anything unusual from her distant glance at it.

The clever pigeon Phoebe made her breakout that late morning, after Bill left for work and Leila began cleaning inside.

A gust of wind made the insecurely latched wooden cage door creak. Drawn by the sound, Phoebe pecked at the shaking door with her beak. Realizing it gave way, her pecks grew more furious until the door swung wide open.

Phoebe peered in bewilderment beyond the open door, then understood. Here was her chance to escape the unjust confinement for delivering that one letter from the duke.

Phoebe unfurled her pristine white wings to the fullest. She circled the yard before flying toward the forest—and soon after, the duke’s hunting party passed right by the cottage.

Leila paused her mopping and peeked cautiously through the window toward the noise. The familiar scene played out: hunting dogs in the lead, nobles on horseback behind. But the rifles gleaming with a chilling light remained alien and terrifying; Leila shrank her shoulders without thinking. That was when the duke turned his head toward the cottage window.

Their eyes met, and Leila jumped back in alarm. Fear must be something learned—simply seeing him set her heart pounding with unease.

Fidgeting restlessly in place, Leila shut the window and drew the heavy curtains tight. Even long after their presence receded, her heartbeat refused to settle. And it wasn’t her first time. Why had she grown more timid than she’d been as a child?

As Leila rubbed her chilled, stiffened hands, the first gunshot rang out. The hunting dogs erupted in frantic barking right after.

It was probably that man.

The duke casually shooting birds dead, their small, cold bodies splattered in blood from the bullets, the vivid reek of it all—it surged back to life.

Resolved to leave the forest until the hunt ended, Leila snatched up her bag and hurried out. She checked the backyard cage out of habit. Phoebe would be there, surely—but just in case.

“Phoebe…….”

Leila’s face drained to ghostly white before the empty, gaping cage. Her hand gripping the bag strap began to tremble just as another gunshot echoed from the forest.

Matthias was first to claim prey. His shot cut short the breath of a deer bounding through the brush in a single strike.

“Taking an interest in running game now?”

Riet clapped, her question laced with amusement.

“Bit of a disappointment. I was looking forward to seeing the Duke of Herhardt’s marksmanship on flying birds.”

While Riet grumbled, the hunting dogs flushed new quarry: a gray-furred rabbit. This time, Riet took aim.

The deeper they ventured into the woods, the more intense the hunt became. A few birds joined the tally, but Matthias hadn’t downed a single one.

As long as they weren’t birds, it would be fine.

He couldn’t fathom why he, master of this hunting ground, had to entertain such a thought—but Matthias settled on that compromise. The hunt might be less thrilling, but he had no desire to see that woman in tears.

Horse hooves thundered over the thick carpet of fallen leaves, shattering the deep woods’ silence.

The hunting party had turned onto the path leading to the Schulter River—a favorite stretch of Matthias’s for exhilarating hunts, teeming with waterfowl.

Glancing idly along the way, Matthias spotted a familiar bird perched on a branch midway. A white-feathered wood pigeon, red thread bound to one leg.

“Phoebe.”

The name slipped out reflexively, becoming white breath that dispersed in the air. At that instant, the party behind him lifted their heads toward the very branch where she sat.