Chapter 57
57
Life Debt
Leila ran wildly down the forest path. She scanned the trees where Phoebe had often perched as she ran and ran. The clattering of items in her bag mingled chaotically with her ragged breaths.
Autumn, past its peak, was already drawing close to winter. Her lungs ached from the cold, damp air, but Leila couldn’t stop. Every time a gunshot rang out, the vision of Phoebe covered in blood grew sharper.
He might have shot Phoebe.
Each gasping breath carried the smell of rusted iron, and with it, Leila’s fear swelled. The Duke’s promise that he wouldn’t shoot her felt meaningless now. All that filled her mind was the memory of the cruel Duke of Herhart, who had killed so many birds just to lure her out, and who had shot another right in front of her eyes.
Why had she ever believed that man’s promise?
She despised herself for letting her guard down over a mere promise, even though she knew exactly what kind of person he was. What did that promise mean to him? Probably nothing. It was so trivial he might have forgotten it long ago.
As Leila ran along the path leading to the Schulter River, her eyes reddened and burned. If she couldn’t find Phoebe, she at least wanted to see the Duke. She wanted to beg him one more time. It might be pointless, but Leila had to do something. As if her desperate wish had reached the heavens, she soon spotted the Duke and his entourage at the far end of the forest path.
Her voice wouldn’t come out, so Leila just kept running. Toward them, toward the group of nobles standing with their horses. One of them was aiming his gun at a branch where a white bird perched. Leila recognized him at once. The slayer of beautiful birds, the Duke of Herhart.
Phoebe!
She tried to scream, but all that escaped her lips was a thin, strangled moan and a hot sigh. In that instant, the Duke pulled the trigger.
Bang—.
The cold gunshot echoed through the forest.
Riet and the others fell silent, their faces stunned. In the frozen moment, as if time itself had stopped, only Mathias calmly lowered his gun. The long barrel glinted in the shaft of light filtering through the branches.
“What was that, Mathias?”
Riet finally spoke.
“The Duke of Herhart missing a shot? Wow, what a show we’re getting today.”
Riet’s hollow laugh spread to the rest of the group. Mathias’s bullet had grazed the end of the branch where the pigeon sat. The bird flapped away in a flurry, and an innocent twig fell to the ground with a thud.
Mathias let out a light chuckle and gazed at the sky where the bird had flown. The white pigeon was heading toward the eastern edge of the estate.
“Huh, why is she here?”
Riet, who had been giggling and teasing Mathias, turned her gaze to the woman standing frozen at the far end of the path. Mathias soon noticed the woman Riet was pointing at. Leila. The dazed woman was staring at Mathias.
“L-Leila!”
The startled attendants moved toward the unexpected intruder. Even then, Leila kept her eyes on Mathias. Pure and clear, without her usual hesitation or wariness, as if he were the only one in the world.
“It’s dangerous, Leila. I told you Mr. Leamer that the Duke was out hunting today…”
“I’m sorry.”
Only after an attendant grabbed her arm did Leila snap back to reality.
“I… I got the date wrong. I’m truly sorry.”
Leila pressed her hand to her painfully pounding chest and apologized again. She quickly dropped her gaze to her feet.
The attendants left a warning to leave at once and returned to their places. The Duke tugged on his horse’s reins, seemingly indifferent to the minor disturbance.
Leila knew she should go, but she lingered there in a daze for a moment longer. The Duke rode off toward the western edge of the estate—the opposite direction from where Phoebe had flown.
Tears welled up in her eyes, refusing to fall, making them sparkle even more. With those eyes, Leila had seen it clearly. What the Duke had aimed at. And how he had hit it.
It wasn’t a miss.
Leila knew all too well how that man killed birds. That’s why she knew. He hadn’t shot at Phoebe. He had deliberately hit the tip of the branch. To startle her into fleeing. Far away, where no one else’s bullets could reach.
Just before turning onto a bend in the path, the Duke looked back. They were so far apart they looked no bigger than fingertips, but Leila sensed it instinctively. Their eyes had met.
Once the Duke was out of sight, Leila finally turned away. She trudged back along the path she had run so frantically. With the tension gone, all strength drained from her body. She felt like a weightless ghost drifting aimlessly.
There had been a night when she’d felt exactly like this.
A faint memory flickered through her numb mind, but Leila didn’t dwell on it. She felt like she shouldn’t. She just gripped the strap of her bag slung over her shoulder and kept walking forward, one step at a time.
By the time her vision cleared and sharpened again, Leila had reached the spot where the cottage came into view. She collapsed onto the porch chair with a thud, and a long sigh escaped her.
The Duke had kept his promise.
The fact was as clear as the high, cloudless blue sky today.
Tap tap. The sound of knocking on the glass window echoed through the quiet room. Leila, sitting at her desk with the lamp lit, jumped up and rushed to the window.
“Phoebe!”
Calling out to her troublesome pigeon, Leila flung the window wide—only to find the Duke of Herhart standing there unexpectedly. She clapped a hand over her mouth just in time to stifle a scream. Uncle Bill, who had returned, was chopping wood in the front yard. If she made a sound, he’d come running in an instant.
Leila locked the door firmly and returned to the open window. He was still in his hunting attire, and she caught a faint whiff of blood. Looking closely, she saw bloodstains splattered on the sleeves and front of his red hunting jacket.
“Your pigeon’s over there.”
The Duke glanced down and pointed to the far end of the windowsill. Somehow already back, Phoebe sat there quietly.
Suppressing the urge to yell at him, Leila stared at the Duke standing beyond the window. His dark bay horse stood obediently behind its master. Beyond them, the sky had already darkened to evening. A pure, vivid blue, just like the Duke’s eyes.
“Have you given it any thought?”
The Duke’s abrupt question snapped Leila out of her daze.
“About how you’ll repay this favor.”
He nodded toward Phoebe, staring at Leila as she looked back in confusion.
“That’s…”
Leila swallowed dryly, at a loss.
“Can’t we say that keeping your promise isn’t really a favor?”
Mathias let out a soft chuckle at Leila’s murmured words, spoken after careful thought.
“O-Of course, I’m grateful.”
“Grateful is all?”
“I also think you’re an honorable gentleman who keeps his word.”
“Didn’t you take that back yourself? Said you were no gentleman at all.”
Mathias leaned his elbow casually on the windowsill.
“That time… I think I was too hasty.”
The more she spoke, the deeper she sank into a quagmire, but Leila desperately tried to find a suitable response.
“Gentleman one moment, not the next, then gentleman again.”
“Well…”
“So does that make you a queen?”
“Wha—? Oh…!”
The memory he stirred made the bridge of Leila’s nose wrinkle. She had shouted it by the stream. If he was a gentleman, then she was a queen.
She wanted to pretend she didn’t remember, but her cheeks were already flushing red. She always ended up saying reckless things in the heat of the moment with him, unable to hold her temper. With everyone else, she could force a smile, no matter what. She could manage it easily.
“…I’m sorry about that day. And thank you truly for keeping your promise. I mean it.”
As she hesitantly offered her apology, the sound of Bill Leamer swinging his axe drifted in from outside. Leila grew unbearably anxious, but the Duke remained utterly relaxed.
“What should we do, Leila.”
The Duke’s hand suddenly reached through the window and grasped her chin.
“I didn’t do all this just to hear empty pleasantries.”
Swept by a foreboding feeling, Leila stepped back, but as always, the Duke was faster and stronger. Before she could dodge, her glasses were removed, and his face filled her blurred vision.
Startled by the touch of their lips meeting, Leila tried to jerk away, but Mathias grabbed a fistful of her hair. As she froze from the dizzying pain that drew out an involuntary moan, his hot tongue pushed in.
Bill Leamer’s hearty grunts and the crack of splitting wood sounded again.
Leila raised the hand that had been gripping the windowsill and pushed at Mathias’s shoulder. But the kiss only deepened. It was a little different from that summer day last year, which lingered like a scar deep in her heart. Instead of devouring her savagely, he explored her membranes more slowly and gently, sucking on her lips and tongue.
Gasping for breath, Leila twisted her head away in the brief moment when his grip on her hair and cheek loosened. As she panted, a cool evening breeze mixed with the scent of beast’s blood wafted in. Leila clenched her lips tightly in disgust, but the Duke didn’t give up easily.
“Is Phoebe’s life worth no more than this?”
He asked lowly, his voice as wet as their lips, laced with a faint laugh that almost sounded playful.
But Leila had no room left to discern his true intent. Overwhelmed by the feeling of her blood freezing, she could only stare at him blankly. She didn’t even notice her tightly pressed red lips parting again, unable to hold back her ragged breaths.
“Ah!”
The gap she’d desperately created collapsed in an instant.
Mathias lunged at her with desperate urgency, belying the calm gaze he’d held just a moment before. He gripped her jaw hard, as if to crush it, forcing her lips open before thrusting his tongue back in. Leila would have preferred the pain from the hand clutching her hair and face, but the firmly entwined tongue, with its vivid texture of tiny ridges, persisted in its slow, relentless movements.
The kiss continued through several more of Bill Leamer’s grunts and the splitting of wood.
Each time Mathias tangled and sucked her tongue, Leila had to gasp out wet moans scraped from deep in her throat. It was horrifying, yet her body slipped from her conscious control. In the end, unable to muster any more strength, Leila’s hand fell limply over his shoulder.
Only when thin sobs began mixing with her moans did Mathias finally release her. Even in the now-deep darkness, his lips glistened vividly, slick with saliva. Realizing she must look no different, Leila wanted nothing more than to slump to the floor right then.
“Leila!”
Uncle Bill’s voice calling her name snapped her out of her trance.
“Leila! Could you bring me a glass of cool water?”
Answer. She had to answer.
While Leila floundered in panic, Mathias pulled out a handkerchief and slowly wiped his lips. Then, still cupping her face, he drew her close and wiped her wet lips as well. Only after putting her glasses back on from the other side of the sill did he finally let her go.
“Leila?”
Bill’s puzzled voice came as the chopping stopped abruptly at the lack of response.
“Launder it and bring it back.”
Mathias placed his handkerchief in Leila’s trembling hand and gave the quiet command. With that, he turned and mounted his horse lightly, all too casually.
“Leila, dear! Is something wrong?”
As the sound of Bill Leamer’s footsteps thudding across the floorboards inside approached, Leila hurriedly shut the window and drew the curtains tight. She rushed to open the door, and there stood Bill Leamer.
“I’m sorry, Uncle. I… I must have dozed off.”
Leila quickly smoothed her hair, which the Duke had tousled.
“I thought something might be wrong.”
“Dinner. I’ll get dinner ready right away.”
“No rush. Take your time, take your time.”
Bill chuckled in relief and went back to the yard to finish his work.
As the front door clicked shut, Leila’s strength finally gave out, and she collapsed to the floor right there. The handkerchief the Duke had given her fluttered down onto the floorboards.
