Chapter 28
Flying Through This Spring Like a Bird

“It’s a perfectly understandable choice… though I can’t deny I’m disappointed.”

Colonel Farrell, commander of the Imperial Guard, regarded Matthias with a quiet smile. Matthias returned the look with calm composure.

“Losing a capable officer feels like a loss. From the empire’s perspective, keeping the Duke of Herhardt bound to the military would be the greater mistake. But from where I stand—as a soldier—I regret it.”

The regret in his eyes was genuine, not mere courtesy.

Captain Herhardt had been expected to extend his service for another year, but instead his resignation papers had arrived. Farrell had been stunned. The reason listed was the declining health of the Herhardt Dowager Duchess. With such cause, there was no ground to argue.

“Thank you for everything.”

Matthias bowed with impeccable formality. By rank and title he outranked many, yet he always showed proper respect to his superiors—a trait that set him apart from most noble officers, who blurred the line between private and official matters. Farrell admired him for that, just as he had admired Matthias’s choice of a harsh overseas front as his first posting, where he had distinguished himself.

“Be sure to visit me when you’re in Latz.”

The colonel extended his hand, and Matthias clasped it firmly.

“Yes, sir.”

With that, Matthias departed the colonel’s residence.

The spring sun poured down on the streets.

His carriage drove him into the heart of Latz, where he called upon several other superiors. Only after days of farewells was the round of resignation visits finally over.

As Matthias approached his waiting carriage, he suddenly stopped short. His gaze fixed across the street.

Layla.

It could be no one else. There she was, walking down the bustling avenue of Latz.

“My lord,” his attendant prompted, stepping closer.

“Go back without me.”

The order was curt, his eyes never leaving the figure across the road.

It was Layla. Impossible, and yet he did not doubt it.

He crossed the street with long, deliberate strides.

The museum was still immense.

Layla gazed up at the Natural History Museum of the Berck Empire, her face alight with the same awe as the first day.

The morning after their arrival in Latz, Kyle had brought her here first of all. Opposite the grand boulevard stood the twin halls: the Museum of Art History and the Natural History Museum, Latz’s pride. Even Layla, long accustomed to the flourishing city of Karlsbar, had been enchanted by this street.

Her classmates from Gillis Girls’ Academy had always praised the Art History Museum as the most beautiful. But Layla, without hesitation, had chosen the Natural History Museum. Just as Kyle had promised, it was like heaven to her. Only, it was too vast to see in a single day.

If she spent all of today here, and returned once more before leaving Latz, she might just manage it. With that resolve, Layla entered the lobby, her steps buoyant.

Kyle had wanted to accompany her again, but she had refused. Her own entrance exam was over, but his was tomorrow. No matter how he insisted studying was best done in advance, she couldn’t possibly drag him here on the eve of his test.

At the entrance to the exhibits, Layla braced herself once more.

Comfortable shoes—check.
Notebook and pen—check.
Energy reserves—check.

Gripping her notebook and pen, she hurried toward the galleries she had missed on her first day.

Today, Layla Llewellyn looked every bit like a child on a school outing.

Matthias followed her silently.

He had been certain it was her the moment he saw her slip into the museum, yet he kept his distance, curious what she was doing. Watching her lose herself in the exhibits, he found himself wanting to see more.

Yes, the university entrance exams were around this time. If she was here, she must have set her heart on attending. And likely on marrying Kyle Etman.

Layla stood at a glass case of preserved plants, scribbling notes with rapt concentration, smiling as though she were gazing at jewels. Matthias could not imagine what in such specimens could make her smile so.

He thought of approaching, then chose not to. If he went near, she would stop smiling.

Hands behind his back, he shadowed her path at a distance.

She looked much the same as last summer, yet subtly changed—her face more refined, her expression gentler, her movements softer. In her white dress trimmed with lace, she seemed almost grown.

At the passage between galleries, Layla suddenly stopped. Matthias soon saw why.

The corridor was like a vision of heaven. Silver-painted branches spread overhead, white feathers hung like leaves, and crystal birds of every color glittered in the light.

“Wow…”

Her wonder carried clearly to his ears.

She ran forward like a child, and Matthias almost laughed aloud. Her golden hair and skirts swayed as she skipped.

In the center of the corridor she stopped again, stretching up on tiptoe to reach one of the crystal birds. But her fingers fell short.

Still gazing upward in delight, she did not see Matthias until he was upon her. In one swift motion, he lifted her from behind.

Startled, she turned her head. Already she was soaring, suspended in air, face to face with the glittering crystal bird. For a moment it felt as though she could fly anywhere, eyes open in a dream.

Matthias set her down as smoothly as if nothing had happened. The white skirt of her dress fluttered back around her calves.

She hid her hand, still tingling from touching the crystal, and looked up at him blankly. He removed his officer’s cap. His blue eyes—like that late summer afternoon—rested on her.

Beneath the great dome of the museum lay a café. She had eaten there with Kyle on her first day.

Matthias walked toward it. Realizing his intent, Layla frowned and halted.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace. I’ll be leaving now.”

She bowed politely.

“Stop.”

His command froze her.

She took a few more steps, but he overtook her in an instant, blocking her way. Passersby cast curious glances.

“Why are you doing this?” she demanded, sharp with unease.

“I don’t like it.”

“Don’t like what?”

“…This. I don’t like it.”

His casualness stoked her anger.

“This isn’t right.”

She clutched her bag strap tightly, hands restless.

“Do you want to try doing something that isn’t right?”

There was a trace of amusement in his voice.

“No!”

Her voice broke with outrage. Her hands trembled.

“Never!”

Heat burned her cheeks. She must be bright red by now. The humiliation of it flushed her further. Before him, so calm, so entertained—it was only she who was laid bare.

His eyes lingered on her face, slow and searching.

“Meeting an orphan from my own estate here in the capital, buying her a cup of tea—how is that wrong?”

Even in insult, Matthias spoke as if detached.

“There’s nothing wrong at all.”

His smile vanished. His eyes hardened to ice.

“Isn’t that right, Layla?”

With those words, he turned again toward the café. Layla’s sigh slipped out long and thin.

She could not say she knew the Duke of Herhardt well. But now she knew this much: whatever he desired, he would take. And the more one resisted, the deeper into danger they would fall.

Resigned, Layla followed him.

Soon the waiter set down two cups of coffee. Steam curled up between them.

“I never imagined I’d meet you here, Your Grace,” Layla said, forcing words to break the silence.

“In a natural history—”

“No interest.”

He cut her off, setting down his cup.

“You already know, Layla.”

His mouth curled in a sardonic half-smile.

“You know I’ve never cared for such things.”

“Then this is just coincidence…”

“You know it’s not coincidence.”

“No.”

The denial leapt from her lips. Her body tensed, her heartbeat uneven. She would rather have been the pitiful orphan who received his disdain. She wanted to be nothing else in his eyes.

“What I do know,” she said, voice trembling, “is that you despise me.”

The memory of that dreadful first kiss surged up. She closed her eyes as if to erase it. Futile. Opening them, she saw him still watching her, blue eyes fixed, the memory alive and inescapable.

“Yes. I despise you.”

He agreed without hesitation, a dry smile curling his lips.

“I despise you now to the point of revulsion, Layla.”