Chapter 64
Snowy Road

The heavy snowfall slowed the carriage’s pace. As Layla gazed out the window, traces of unease flickered in her eyes, betraying what she tried to hide.

“There’s nothing to fear, child.”

Facing her, Katharina von Herhardt smiled kindly, the deep lines of age softened with warmth.

“N-no, Madam. It’s not that…”

“It may not be the most comfortable seat, but you’ve no reason to be so tense. I didn’t bring you into this carriage to make you suffer.”

The Dowager Duchess’s bright eyes carried a faint tenderness, and only then did Layla begin to relax.

“To think the very first snow is already so heavy… This winter will be full of snow, I expect. Don’t you agree, Matthias?”

Following the grandmother’s glance, Layla also turned her head. The briefest brush of eyes with the Duke sent her heart into an unsteady rhythm.

“Yes, Grandmother.”

Matthias answered with a faint smile.

Katharina guided the conversation with practiced ease—asking about Layla’s school life, praising the charity performance. When the topic shifted to the children’s play, her smile deepened.

“It must have been quite the ordeal, and yet you handled it admirably.”

The praise, offered like consolation, brought heat to Layla’s cheeks.

“Thank you, Madam.”

Her ears were burning now too, flushed as ripe fruit.

Suppressing the laughter that memory threatened to spark, Matthias studied her again. Her neatly folded hands wriggled restlessly in her lap.

A woman who cannot hide her feelings. Awkward at lying. Perhaps that explains such dreadful acting.

He leaned back into the seat and stretched out his legs, the tip of his polished shoe brushing against hers. She quickly pulled her foot away, flustered, but he wasn’t deterred.

As the carriage left the paved road, the jolts grew rougher.

Layla lowered her gaze to the floor, desperate. No matter how she pulled away, Matthias’s shoe inevitably sought hers until they touched again. It was nothing more than a light press, yet she felt as though she had been stripped bare.

“You’re young, yet you manage children so well.”

The Dowager Duchess spoke again, and Layla jerked her head up. Better to focus on her words than on the tips of their shoes, where the Duke’s touch lingered.

“Do you like children?”

“…Yes, Madam.”

“Smart, and fond of children besides. A fine teacher indeed. Don’t you agree, Matthias?”

Her affectionate gaze shifted toward her grandson. Matthias gave Layla a brief look before nodding readily.

“Yes, Grandmother.”

The hint of amusement in his tone made Layla’s eyes widen. Surely it was a perfunctory answer—but still, unexpected. She had thought him capable only of curt nods and dry remarks. That was the Duke she knew.

“Your vacation is coming soon, Miss Llewellyn.”

Their eyes met as Matthias asked politely.

“…Yes, Your Grace.”

She forced herself to meet his gaze again, steadying her heart. Stay calm. Don’t act strange. You’re nothing more than a servant’s daughter before the ducal family. That’s all.

“And how do you plan to spend it?”

As soon as she regained composure, Matthias grew more deliberate.

“Well… I…”

It was the simplest question, yet Layla’s mind went blank. A tiny curve tugged at his mouth.

“I’ll study, help Uncle Bill, and also…”

Just then, his shoe tapped lightly against hers. Nearly gasping, she rushed to finish,

“A-and prepare for the next term!”

Her voice came out far too loud, like a solemn vow.

Katharina regarded her for a long moment before breaking into hearty laughter.

“Yes, Layla. A wholesome plan. Bill Remmer has raised you so properly.”

“That’s too much praise, Madam…”

Layla mumbled, wishing she could sink into a hole. Matthias, unbothered, crossed his legs with practiced composure, which only made her cheeks burn hotter.

“Truly, a fine teacher, Miss Llewellyn.”

His tone was impeccably polite, though clearly teasing. Layla forced herself to respond as she would to the Dowager Duchess.

“…Thank you, Your Grace.”

She resolved not to look again—but in the tight carriage, it was impossible to avoid him forever. When their eyes met once more, she flinched. Gone was the playful glint; his gaze was as calm and fathomless as the summer river that had once swallowed her whole.

The journey took twice as long as usual before the carriage finally turned down the road toward Arvis.

Inside, silence settled. Katharina dozed, her head nodding gently, while only the steady rhythm of hooves and wheels marked time’s passage.

Matthias turned from the window to Layla. At some point she had begun to nod off too, struggling to keep awake. Her head dipped, jerked up, then dipped again.

His gaze drifted downward. Even in the dim carriage, the necklace he’d given her glowed softly. Lower still, to the floor—the small shoes beside his own looked like a doll’s. How did those tiny feet carry her so tirelessly? He almost wondered at it when the carriage suddenly stopped.

“Bill! What are you doing out here?”

The coachman’s shout woke Layla, who blinked rapidly and peered outside.

“The weather’s dreadful. I was worried for Layla,” came Bill Remmer’s voice.

“She’s with us. The Dowager Duchess was kind enough to take her in.”

“Layla… here?”

Their voices drifted faintly through the carriage walls. Katharina stirred awake.

“Madam…”

Layla turned to her, smiling brightly now. Reading her heart, the Dowager Duchess gave a gentle nod.

“Go on, Layla. See Bill Remmer.”

“Meeting him was the blessing of that girl’s life,” she added softly, pleased.

“Yes, Grandmother.”

Matthias answered absently, his gaze falling to the empty seat opposite.

The moment Layla spotted Bill, she leapt from the carriage without hesitation, flying into the gardener’s arms. Matthias could only watch helplessly as she slipped from him, leaving a bitter taste of loss.

“Not even his own daughter would he treat so tenderly. Who knew Bill Remmer had such warmth in him? Not even God must have expected it.”

Katharina marveled on, praising the gardener and his foster daughter.

“Which is why I wish she would stay in Arvis, for his sake. I can’t imagine why she insists on a transfer.”

The word pierced Matthias like a shard of ice.

“Layla Llewellyn… a transfer?”

“Yes. She wants to move to another city. Why young women are always so eager to leave their hometowns, I’ll never know. One only learns later that home is best.”

Katharina clicked her tongue.

“The headmaster said as much. The children adore her, the parents approve, yet she insists on leaving. I suppose I can understand, after that broken engagement with Kyle Etman. Still… how can she think of parting from Bill, when they’re so close?”

“I see…”

“The headmaster urged her to take until early next year to decide. Nothing final yet. Still, I do hope she stays by Bill’s side.”

Her expression was one of genuine regret.

“Apparently a distant relative of the headmaster runs a large store in town, and they’re keen on her as a match for their son. A broken engagement at her age isn’t unusual, and though her station isn’t high, she’s smart and quite pretty—more than good enough for a merchant’s wife. If she found a good marriage, perhaps she’d change her mind. The headmaster may even play matchmaker himself.”

“Yes.”

“If Bill objects, perhaps I’ll intervene myself. I might ask Hessen to look into a respectable young man nearby—well-bred, steady. Marriage, a home, teaching, close to Bill Remmer—that would be best for that poor girl’s life. Don’t you agree, Matthias?”

As her words scattered on, the carriage rolled to a stop at the manor.

Instead of answering, Matthias opened the door and stepped out. The coachman faltered back at the sudden sight of him.

Matthias calmly adjusted the lapel of his coat, then turned.

“Let us go inside, Grandmother.”

His every motion was polished, elegant, as he offered her his hand.

Katharina von Herhardt took it gladly, stepping down. Their footsteps echoed through the marble hall, carrying deep into the sleeping manor.

By the time Bill Remmer and Layla Llewellyn entered Arvis, hand in hand, the ducal carriage had already departed. Snow fell thickly, blurring its tracks.

“I thought at least you wouldn’t laugh, Uncle!”

When she recounted the disastrous play, Bill laughed so heartily she snapped in protest. Hardly an effective retort—it only made him laugh louder.

“It’s fine, Layla. You must have been adorable. Very much so.”

“Not all the audience were like you, you know.”

Grumbling, she couldn’t help but smile. His reassurance really did make it feel as though everything was all right.

As they chatted, they reached the edge of the rose garden. Bill, glancing at her shoes, cleared his throat.

“Shall I carry you?”

“W-what? No!”

The absurd suggestion made Layla burst out laughing.

“I’m not a child. I’m fine, Uncle.”

“It bothers me. You limp, and it’s annoying to watch.”

With a gruff tone, he crouched down in front of her.

“Uncle…”

“If you don’t climb on, I’ll hoist you over my shoulder.”

“You’ll strain yourself.”

“What do you take me for? Even middle-aged, I could carry five girls like you with ease.”

Stubborn as ever, he left her no choice. Layla reluctantly climbed onto his back. But contrary to her worry, he lifted her easily and strode into the forest path.

At first she sat stiffly, awkward. But soon her laughter returned.

Her white breath spilled into the night, mingling with the snowflakes, while Bill’s booming laughter followed naturally behind.

Side by side, their footprints became one trail, and snow quietly settled over them.