Chapter 61
Charity Performance

The memory of that strange night soon began to feel like nothing more than a dream, as peaceful days followed.

Marquis Lindmann had returned to his estate, and Matthias no longer sent coercive letters or appeared without warning.

In the meantime, the seasons turned.

When she opened the window, the air that swept in carried the sharp scent of winter. Layla forgot the chill for a while, standing in the breeze. The silver-white winter sunlight filled the forests of Arvis.

Only when her fingertips began to sting with cold did she close the window and turn away. Today, at the town hall, the children from her school would be performing in a charity concert, and her preparations for work took longer than usual. The children would be on stage, but the audience would be filled with local aristocrats and dignitaries—hardly an occasion to appear as though it were any ordinary day.

‘We must present the image of a refined teacher. Understood, Miss Llewellyn?’

At yesterday’s final meeting, the headmaster had pointed at her directly as he spoke. He had even joked that he trusted she wouldn’t dare come by bicycle tomorrow.

“My bicycle isn’t so bad,” Layla muttered primly as her hands busily braided her hair. After months of practice, she had grown used to dressing it up neatly.

‘That hairstyle doesn’t suit you.’

As she glanced at the finished braid in the mirror, Matthias’s absurd comment suddenly came to mind, as though she’d met his eyes again on the autumn boulevard. Startled, she looked away from the mirror.

‘Pretty. Your hair looks like wings.’

The words that had flustered her even more than his blunt criticism followed after. His face had been expressionless then too.

Fidgeting with her comb for a long while, Layla finally forced herself to meet the mirror again. The bruises had faded, but the memory of that night still lingered sharp and vivid.

Matthias had kept his promise.

That strange, unfamiliar moment when his lips touched her wounds had ended quickly. He had released her and tended to her injuries as if nothing had happened—applying ointment and bandaging her aching shoulder with the calm efficiency of a physician.

And then…

When the memory of facing him afterward threatened to rise, Layla quickly stood and dressed. She put on the dress she had saved up her wages to buy and slipped her feet into heeled shoes. The thought of enduring an entire day in them already made her heels throb.

“You look lovely, Layla.”

Bill Remmer chuckled heartily as she stepped into the kitchen.

“You’ll be the prettiest girl at the town hall tonight.”

“There will be noble ladies and grand dames in attendance,” she protested.

“What does that matter? No amount of gold or jewels could outshine you.”

“That’s only in your eyes, Uncle.”

Layla laughed, sitting across from him.

“By the way, Layla. That necklace… why not wear it?”

His gaze fell on her bare throat, and he suggested it gently.

“A necklace? Oh! You mean the one you gave me?”

“Yes. The one you wore to the Duke’s party last year. It should suit that dress as well. Not that I insist—but I’d like to see you wear it again.”

Bill knew nothing of women’s adornments, but he remembered vividly how dazzling she had looked that night. It had been a proud memory for him, making her feel like a princess if only for a single evening.

Layla gladly retrieved the necklace from the back of her wardrobe, clasped it around her neck, and returned to him.

“How do I look?” she asked shyly, hands clasped behind her back.

Bill burst out laughing again, delighted.

“Watch out for crows, Layla. You’re sparkling so much one might swoop down and carry you off!”

So she’s walking to work today.

From his window, Matthias watched a lone figure moving along the path beyond the rose gardens toward the hunting grounds. His lips curved faintly. Even from a distance, when she was no more than a dot, he knew it was Layla.

He stepped closer to the tall, curtained window, leaning casually against the frame as he observed her approach. A sharp whistle brought a small bird to his hand, as if on cue.

He raised his hand, showing the canary the woman walking along the path, almost as though introducing her. But the bird, uninterested, flitted back to its perch. Soon Layla disappeared from sight as well, but Matthias remained at the window for a long while afterward.

At some point, it had become his habit to begin each morning here—watching the woman set off diligently down that path.

Had she healed by now?

The thought of her battered, fragile body tightened his brow.

He hadn’t seen her since that night. If he wanted, he could have gone himself to check. But strangely, he hadn’t. It was an unfamiliar feeling, even to him.

Finally leaving the window, Matthias sank into the armchair by the fireplace and picked up the newspaper he had abandoned. The words blurred meaninglessly before his eyes.

That night, Layla had cried. He had seen her tears countless times before, yet for some reason those tears clung to him as though they were the first.

‘Wait.’

He remembered stopping her as she tried to rise from the bed.

‘Painkiller.’

He had held out a small vial, but she had only stared up at him blankly, like someone who wasn’t really there.

When he pried her lips open and gave her the medicine himself, she had startled faintly, but he’d ignored it. Even the bitter taste hadn’t changed her dazed expression.

He had chuckled, wiped the spill from her lips with his handkerchief, and slipped a piece of candy between them instead. By the time the sweet began to melt, tears were rolling silently down her cheeks.

That unexpected crying had unsettled him. She hadn’t sobbed aloud, only dropped heavy tears as she looked at him with the candy still in her mouth.

He had cupped her face awkwardly, wiping again and again, but the tears only soaked his hands.

‘Does it still hurt?’

Her faint nod was answer enough.

Unable to find the right words, he had simply held her. At first she had tried to push him away, but soon gave up, going limp in his arms.

He had held her for a long time as she cried into his sweater, until finally the sobs subsided. Even recalling it now filled him with the same helplessness as that night.

When Layla cried, it usually pleased him. He loved her tear-stained face, sometimes even provoking those tears deliberately. Other times, when they were caused by something beyond him, he despised them.

It had always been simple. Everything about her—about life—had always been clear-cut. It had to be.

But not that time.

Those tears had been different. Her eyes hadn’t held anger, fear, or even shame. They had been empty, or perhaps filled with something he couldn’t name.

He had wanted them to stop. Not with the furious urge he’d once felt when she wept over Kyle Etman, but with something else—something unsettling, yet not altogether unpleasant. It was like being drunk on rich wine: drowsy and content, yet also restless, as though pursued.

Yes. Joy. That was what it had been.

A joy unlike any he had known by tormenting her into tears. Perhaps that was why he had hovered around her for so long—chasing that joy, wanting it again.

But when he remembered the way she looked after her sobs subsided, all he saw was exhaustion, resignation, and fear. No spark, no light remained.

He wanted that joy back. But each time, it slipped through his fingers like sand, leaving only frustration. His brow knotted tightly.

A polite knock sounded.

“Master, it’s Hessen.”

“Come in.”

Matthias lowered his gaze from the ceiling. Hessen stepped to his side with perfect posture.

“Madam asks about your evening plans, my lord.”

“My mother?”

“Yes. She had intended to accompany the Dowager Duchess to tonight’s charity performance, but she is unwell with a touch of fever. If you have no prior engagement, she asks that you escort the Dowager Duchess in her stead.”

“A charity performance?”

“It is a concert prepared jointly by several schools in Karlsbar. The local children are participating as well.”

Only then did Matthias understand why Layla had walked to work—and why she had taken extra care with her appearance today.

“Very well,” Matthias said easily.

“I’ll go.”