Chapter 8
8
A Safe World
The doorman wore a deeply perplexed expression.
Leila nodded as if to say she understood. There had probably never been a guest who dragged an old junk bicycle into the finest hotel in the city.
Only after glancing back and forth several times between the Herhardt duke’s group, who had entered ahead of her, and Leila herself did he finally accept the bicycle. With a brief word of thanks, Leila stepped into the hotel. The tearoom lay to the right of the central lobby.
The manager, who hurried over, led them to the terrace overlooking the river. Leila took the last seat at the table. Unfortunately, it was directly across from Duke Herhardt.
His openly staring gaze stirred up memories, and Leila quickly lowered her eyes. Beneath the awning, her thin gold-rimmed glasses caught the slanting summer sunlight and sparkled.
But ordinarily, wasn’t it the one who showed themselves who felt more embarrassed than the one who saw?
Even after that incident, the duke’s nonchalant gaze left Leila simply astonished.
Well. Considering that to nobles, a servant was no more significant than a piece of furniture or a painting, it made a certain sense. No one would feel shame stripping naked in front of furniture. And furniture wouldn’t blush at the sight of someone naked either.
While Leila arrived at her own conclusion, the tea service was laid out. Without any separate order, a cup of rich coffee appeared before Duke Herhardt. The fingers grasping the cup were remarkably long and smooth.
As if they had completely forgotten her presence, the two carried on their private conversation. The exhibition they had seen that day. Updates on their relatives. The party to be held at the manor over the weekend. Mathias’s soft baritone wove seamlessly with Claudine’s bright soprano, alternating at steady intervals.
If that was the case, then why bring her along at all? But Leila resolved not to wonder. Lady Brandt’s whims were generally beyond her comprehension. They had been ever since that first meeting in the summer when she was twelve.
“So, Leila. How’s school? Having fun?”
Clink. Along with the sound of the teacup settling onto its saucer came Claudine’s voice, pitched a notch higher. Though just a year older than Leila, Claudine always spoke as if addressing a child.
“Yes, miss.”
For Uncle Bill’s sake. Leila recited her familiar lines and replied.
Claudine nodded in satisfaction, posing a few more perfunctory questions about school life, and Leila responded each time with her unchanging smile.
Yes, miss.
That was more or less the sole response Claudine expected from her. And by now, Leila was well accustomed to giving it.
“You’ll be graduating next year.”
Claudine’s expression held a touch of boredom, but her tone remained as kindly as ever.
“Yes, miss.”
Leila offered her dutiful reply.
“What do you plan to do after graduation?”
“I’m in the class preparing for the teaching certification.”
“A teacher…”
Claudine drew out the word, lifting her teacup. The ribbon and corsage adorning her small hat swayed gently with her slow nod.
“What a good girl you are, Leila. Such a fine ambition. It suits you perfectly.”
Claudine smiled again, as if praising a praiseworthy child.
“Don’t you think so, Duke Herhardt?”
Leila’s gaze followed Claudine’s to the duke. Viewed through her glasses, his eyes gleamed with an even clearer shade of blue. Realizing too late that they were fixed on her, Leila dropped her eyes in haste.
“Indeed.”
He assented without fanfare. With that, Leila Llewellyn’s presence faded once more into the background. Amid the relief that brought, Leila waited impatiently for this awkward teatime to end.
She was supposed to meet Kyle downtown after his tennis game. What if she ended up late?
Anxiety rising, Leila lifted her head. At the same moment, Mathias turned his gaze. Rather than avert her eyes as before, Leila stared back at him steadily.
In her childhood, she had imagined that locking eyes with those glass-blue depths would produce a crisp, clear chime. The long-forgotten childish fancy resurfaced, making the duke feel all the more alien and discomfiting. As though sharper vision brought emotions into sharper focus as well.
“Pardon me, Your Grace. And miss.”
Leila could bear it no longer and parted her fidgeting lips.
“Might I be excused first? I know it’s improper…”
Her gaze, departing from Mathias at last, settled on Claudine’s face. Only then could she breathe freely.
“I have an appointment with a friend coming up soon.”
Unconcealed urgency colored her added words.
Claudine let out a low laugh and nodded her permission. Leila’s face finally eased into relief.
With a proper curtsey, Leila hurried from the hotel. She pedaled furiously down the bustling streets. Yet the farther she drew from that irrelevant world, the more vividly the face of that irrelevant man sharpened in her mind.
It’s the glasses, Leila thought, gasping for breath. She had seen him clearly, so he lingered clearly. And in a way, that brought relief too. What if that indecent affair had happened after she got her glasses fitted?
Just as dizziness clouded her head and vertigo threatened, Leila reached the rendezvous point. Kyle, who had arrived first, waved with a broad grin.
It was a safe world where her heart could finally relax.
“That girl’s grown quite a bit, hasn’t she? She could pass for a proper young lady now.”
Claudine chattered, peering after Leila’s departure. Her tone treated her peer as if she were a daughter.
“She’s of that age.”
Mathias replied with suitable indifference and an apt smile.
“Exactly. She’s of that age.”
Claudine paused in brief reflection before beaming as brightly as the summer sun.
“Oh, right. Have you heard? Brother Riet got himself a splendid new car.”
Claudine deftly shifted the subject.
The two resumed the conversation of their shared world. Leila Llewellyn, who had briefly occupied the seat opposite before departing, might as well never have been there at all. But that woman asserted her presence once more in an unexpected place.
They were on their way back to Arbis after a leisurely teatime. Traffic snarled the road, halting the car briefly, and Mathias glanced idly out the window. There was Leila. She was walking along the street, towing her bicycle beside a boy. Evidently, her appointed friend.
Gazing idly at the somehow familiar face, Mathias soon recalled the boy. The family physician’s son. Kyle Etman, was it?
Leila Llewellyn called out something to the boy, who kept tapping at her glasses. But his mischief only grew bolder, and Leila let out a sigh before dissolving into laughter.
Giggling endlessly over whatever amused them so, the pair halted before the library steps. Leila propped her bicycle and sat at the bottom step; the boy, clutching a paper bag, followed suit. Out came two bottles of soda and sandwiches.
Leila Llewellyn sat shoulder-to-shoulder with the boy, sharing the food. Each time he spoke, she laughed; her laughter set him laughing in turn. Meanwhile, the carriage obstructing the road pulled aside.
As their own car lurched forward once more, Mathias withdrew his gaze from the street. Claudine, who had been peering out the opposite window, turned to him.
They exchanged smiles and picked up their decorous chatter. At some point, Mathias unconsciously revisited the teatime. Leila Llewellyn hadn’t so much as touched the teacup set before her. She had simply sat ramrod straight, hands folded neatly in her lap, before quietly slipping away. That was all.
She left me to go to that boy.
Mulling it over summoned the image of Leila’s face as she stared at him so intently. Anxiety and unease had been plain upon it.
Because she wanted to reach that boy.
The thought led to the sight of Leila’s retreating back as she fled the terrace. She had quickened her steps like one escaping.
Leaving me behind to hurry to that boy.
By then, their car had turned onto Platanus Avenue, winding toward the Arbis estate.
As they passed the midway point—the very stretch where her bicycle had toppled—Mathias admitted it plainly. Leila Llewellyn could never be anything to him, and yet this feeling was far from welcome.
“I’ll buy dessert since you treated me.”
Leila stood from the library steps with a light laugh. She meticulously tucked the empty paper bag and bottles into her bicycle basket.
“No need. Don’t be so exacting about it.”
Kyle flashed an abashed smile and mounted Leila’s bicycle. As Leila settled naturally onto the rear seat, her body heat seeped through more vividly than the midday swelter.
Kyle began pedaling, struggling to quell a warmth utterly unlike the summer blaze. She could grip tighter, yet Leila held his shirt with the lightest of touches—just teasing enough to tantalize. Even so, a gentle smile curved Kyle’s lips.
He had left his own bicycle behind on purpose. Wanting to meet Leila like this, to ride home together on hers. Not that Leila knew.
“Hey, Kyle.”
Leila’s soft voice slipped in amid the whir of the chain.
“Yeah.”
The knuckles whitened on Kyle’s hands gripping the handlebars.
“Still, I’ll buy ice cream.”
He had braced for something momentous.
The letdown drew an involuntary laugh from Kyle.
“Be honest. You just want some yourself, don’t you?”
“…It’s not that.”
Which meant it was.
Kyle veered toward the cafeteria they frequented on the walk home. As he parked the bicycle, Leila scampered inside.
Thinking better of following, Kyle leaned into the awning’s shade to cool off. Moments later, Leila returned with two cones of vanilla ice cream.
They ate standing side by side. It was nothing but their everyday routine, repeated countless times, yet Kyle found it all wondrous anew, stealing glances at Leila. Perhaps it was the glasses making her seem so unfamiliar.
“Leila.”
Kyle whispered the name he could no longer contain. As she turned to him, a flush pinked her cheeks. He knew it was just the heat, yet his heart pounded all the same.
Kyle swallowed dryly and took a big bite of the half-melted ice cream.
“This ice cream’s delicious.”
Leila let out a deflated laugh at his long-awaited remark.
“Isn’t it? Vanilla’s still my favorite.”
Leila tilted her head back to gaze at the clear summer sky. Kyle, struck by how long and slender her neck was, hastily looked away and shoveled in another large spoonful.
It was cold and sweet.
