Chapter 56
Phoebe

“Once again, I owe you my gratitude, Dr. Etman.”

The look in Katharina von Herhardt’s eyes as she watched Dr. Etman gather his medical bag was as kind as always. The doctor returned her gaze with a gentle smile of his own.

“Please, think nothing of it. I’m only glad it turned out to be nothing serious.”

“At my age, it would hardly be strange if something serious had turned up.”

“Now you make me sound unappreciated, Madam.”

Dr. Etman rose slowly and stood at the bedside of the Dowager Duchess. It was only a mild cold, but at her age, nothing could be taken lightly.

“This old woman has lived in comfort this long thanks to you, Dr. Etman.”

The Dowager’s soft laughter drifted toward her daughter-in-law.

“Isn’t that right, Elise?”

“Of course.”

Elise von Herhardt agreed warmly.

“You’ve done well, Dr. Etman.”

“You honor me, Madam. I’ll take my leave now.”

“Ah, and how is Kyle doing these days?”

At her question, the doctor’s calm eyes flickered just briefly. But he quickly regained composure and answered with a smile.

“Thankfully, he’s devoted to his studies.”

“Good. He takes after you—he’ll surely become an excellent physician.”

“I’m honored you think so.”

“He’ll be home for winter break, then?”

“I don’t believe he’s made any firm plans yet.”

“Well, it’s his first term. He might stay in the capital for society, or perhaps travel for the sake of experience. To the warmer south, maybe.”

“Yes. Whatever he decides, I’ll respect his wishes.”

“When he does decide, let me know. I’ll introduce him to a proper social club. If he travels, I’ll see to it he has the right connections.”

The unexpected kindness in her voice left Dr. Etman momentarily surprised.

“Please send my regards to your wife as well.”

Elise added the farewell herself as she escorted him to the door. Her tone was gracious, almost tender—remarkable, considering she spoke of a woman with whom ties had been severed.

The doctor smiled politely and departed. The servants withdrew too, leaving only the two ladies of the house.

“You’ve taken quite an interest in young Kyle, Elise.”

The Dowager’s lips curved in approval as she leaned back against her cushions.

“I think you were right, Mother. If Kyle becomes a good doctor, that can only benefit our Matthias. I may have cut ties with Mrs. Etman, but I intend to honor the Etman family as physicians.”

“I’m glad you feel that way.”

The Dowager nodded contentedly. Unless something unforeseen happened, Kyle Etman would one day succeed as physician to the Herhardt household.

Their talk drifted naturally from Kyle to Matthias—the family’s living honor, their proud heir.

“Did you hear? Matthias attended a meeting at the village school recently.”

Elise spoke with pride.

“To think he would concern himself with such details—it impressed me greatly.”

“It seems Matthias is learning to master his duties as head of the house far sooner than we expected.”

The Dowager was full of admiration, and Elise eagerly agreed.

“Yes. He’ll become the most perfect Duke Herhardt there has ever been.”

It happened by chance.

On a free day with no obligations, Matthias had humored Riette’s suggestion to visit a social club together. After a moderately pleasant and moderately dull time, they were on their way home when Matthias saw her.

Layla.

The moment their carriage turned onto the road leading to the estate, he recognized her—even from afar. It could be no one else. Dressed in the white coat he had bought her, she was pedaling her bicycle down the plane-tree avenue in the late autumn dusk.

“That girl—isn’t that Layla Llewellyn?”

As the carriage closed the distance, Riette recognized her too.

“The young lady who loves birds, the one who lives by the hunting grounds at Arvis.”

Though his tone was playful, Riette’s eyes were serious. His gaze lingered not on Layla, but on his cousin—the Duke—watching her.

Matthias answered with only a tilt of his chin. His eyes stayed fixed on her back as she pedaled, looking a little weary but still determined, still strong.

Noticing the carriage behind her, Layla steered her bicycle toward the edge of the road. The carriage carrying Matthias and Riette passed her by. Up close, he saw her shoes as well—the pair he had also given her.

“She’s the schoolteacher, isn’t she? Heading home, it seems.”

Riette kept grinning, still watching Matthias.

“Perhaps.”

That single curt reply was all. Matthias finally drew his gaze away from her, though the curve of his lips remained faintly softened. To Riette, it looked almost like the face of a man in love—a thought so absurd, yet he couldn’t look away from his cousin’s expression.

“Something on your mind?”

Catching his gaze, Matthias turned suddenly. Riette wiped the faint awkwardness from his face with a sly smile.

“Hunting. Your Grace will join us, won’t you?”

A convenient excuse had come to him just in time.

“I’ve invited guests. It would look strange if the master of Arvis himself didn’t join.”

Riette’s weekend hunting party had drawn many eager requests for invitations. Matthias had left the arrangements to him.

“I can’t play host on your land, Matthias.”

Their carriage stopped before the manor entrance.

After a brief pause, Matthias nodded in assent. On the weekend hunt, Layla would be there.

“I thought so.”

Riette smiled, as if he’d finally glimpsed the cousin he knew so well.

“This is the Duke Herhardt I remember.”

Matthias didn’t push Riette’s arm away when it draped over his shoulder. Together, they entered the lit foyer.

Phoebe was a clever pigeon. Clever enough to recognize the injustice of being locked in a cage in the back garden.

It had started with Bill Remmer.

On a Saturday morning, while Layla prepared breakfast, Bill had fed Phoebe in her stead—and failed to secure the cage properly. Not that Phoebe noticed at the time. First, there was grain to eat.

It wasn’t until later, while Bill and Layla were raking fallen leaves and chatting in the yard, that Phoebe noticed the door was loose.

“Don’t go into the woods today, Layla. The Duke is out hunting with friends.”

Bill’s rake scraped against the ground as he spoke. Layla sighed.

“He’d been quiet for a while. I guess the Duke hasn’t abandoned that hobby after all.”

“A marksman shouldn’t waste his skill.”

“You sound like you’re on the Duke’s side.”

“It’s not about sides—just saying what’s what.”

Layla chuckled softly at his quick backtracking.

“Everyone in Arvis seems to like him.”

“Why wouldn’t they? There isn’t a better nobleman around. That arrogant young lady picked herself a fine husband-to-be.”

“…Yes.”

Her smile grew brighter as she bent to her raking.

Meanwhile, Phoebe remained quiet in her cage. From a distance, Layla couldn’t see that anything was amiss.

But once Bill had left for work and Layla turned to tidying the house, the pigeon made her move.

A gust of wind rattled the improperly latched door. Phoebe pecked at it. The more it shifted, the harder she struck, until at last it swung wide.

She blinked at the open sky, bewildered—then understood. This was her chance. Her chance to escape the unjust captivity she’d suffered ever since carrying one of the Duke’s letters.

With a flap of white wings, Phoebe soared.

Circling the yard once, she turned toward the woods. Not long after, the Duke’s hunting party passed by Layla’s cottage.

Layla paused in her mopping and peeked through the window. She saw the familiar sight: hounds at the lead, mounted nobles behind. But the gleam of their rifles still filled her with dread. She shrank back. When the Duke turned his head toward her window, her heart lurched.

She stumbled back in panic. He hadn’t touched her, hadn’t spoken—but fear was a habit now. Just the sight of him made her chest tighten.

Clutching her cold, stiff hands together, she drew the curtains shut. Even after the sounds of the hunters faded, her heartbeat wouldn’t steady. She was more frightened now than as a child. Why?

The first gunshot cracked through the forest. Then the hounds bayed.

It must be him.

She saw it again: the Duke raising his gun, birds dropping lifeless from the sky, their bloodied bodies reeking of iron.

Layla decided to leave. Better to avoid the woods until the hunt was done. She grabbed her bag and headed for the door. But habit made her check Phoebe’s cage on the way out.

“Phoebe…”

The open, empty cage drained the color from her face. Her hands shook on the strap of her bag. Another gunshot rang out from the forest.

The first kill belonged to Matthias. His bullet struck true, dropping a deer in one instant.

“Taking an interest in bigger game now?”

Riette applauded lightly, amused.

“A shame, really. I’d hoped to see the Duke of Herhardt shoot birds in flight.”

As he grumbled, the hounds flushed out another quarry—a rabbit with gray fur. Riette took the shot this time.

The deeper they rode into the forest, the livelier the hunt became. Birds, too, were brought down, though none by Matthias’s hand.

Anything but birds.

It made no sense, this strange compromise. He was master of these grounds. Why should he even care? Yet he knew he didn’t want to see her cry.

The sound of hooves thundered through the fallen leaves, shattering the stillness of the woods.

The hunting party reached the path leading toward the Schulte River, a favorite ground for Matthias—rich with waterfowl.

His eyes wandered upward. On a branch overhanging the trail sat a pigeon, snowy white, with a red string tied around one leg.

“Phoebe.”

The name left his lips in a whisper, a puff of white breath. At once, the rest of the hunters lifted their eyes to the same branch.