Chapter 75
That Choice Was Right

The song of the canary was what woke Matthias. The bird flitted about its cage, trilling brightly, clearly in good spirits.

Still heavy with sleep, Matthias watched it for a long while.

After singing its fill, the canary hopped down to the water dish at the bottom of the cage. It dunked its beak and head, gave a vigorous shake, then fluttered its wings to splash water over its whole body.

Matthias chuckled faintly and sat up against the bed. Even then, his eyes remained fixed on the birdcage. The canary, bath complete, perched on its roost and shook the droplets free. Then it spread its wings and preened them with its beak—so meticulous, so industrious. Small, busy, restless. Just like her.

When the bird returned to its nest, Matthias rose as well. Before long, Hessen entered with coffee and the morning paper. Calmly, he reported on preparations for welcoming the Crown Prince and Princess, and on how the guest list for the coming ball had been finalized.

“Lady Brandt sent word she’ll arrive at Arvis this afternoon.”

“I see.”

“Marquis Lindmann will also arrive tomorrow afternoon. Since Your Grace will be away in the capital for several days, I explained to both households that you would be unable to receive them personally, and asked for their understanding.”

Matthias folded his paper and lifted his teacup, nodding slightly to show he was listening. He, the Crown Prince, and Riette had grown close over the years, their lives moving in parallel. Claudine too was among the ladies closest to the Crown Princess, so naturally she would spend time at Arvis during their stay.

“If you depart around ten, you’ll catch the train on time. Shall I make the arrangements, sir?”

“Yes. Do that.”

Matthias’s smile was polite, his nod graceful. Hessen bowed and stepped aside to clear the way. Matthias would be in the capital for business. If he wanted to return before the royal couple’s visit, the schedule would be tight.

He showered, dressed, and moved with the same composed leisure as always.

Kyle Etman had returned.

The news spread across Arvis in less than a day. Too many mouths repeated it for anyone not to know.

And so?

Matthias rolled the name on his tongue a few times, then erased it with a faint laugh.

Why Kyle had abandoned his travels and come home didn’t matter. Even if Kyle still longed for Layla—and even if Layla still longed for Kyle—it made no difference. She was his mistress now, and not a woman who could accept the doctor’s son. That was enough.

As he fastened the cufflinks at his sleeves, Matthias’s lips curved into a serene smile. He found Layla Llewellyn’s stubborn pride almost endearing. At times he’d wondered if taking her this way had been a mistake. Now he could dismiss that doubt entirely.

That choice was right.

With that crisp conclusion, Matthias left the dressing room. The name Kyle Etman was gone, erased without a trace.

“Surely it’s because of Layla, isn’t it? Do you think the two of them met again?”

Even in the servants’ hall, where the staff were frantic preparing for the Crown Prince and Princess, talk of Kyle and Layla flowed freely.

“I haven’t heard anything yet. But maybe Kyle came back for another reason?”

“Etman House had said he’d spend the whole winter break traveling in the southern continent. If he suddenly returned without warning, the only reason could be Layla.”

“Hard not to think so. After all those years together, you don’t just cut someone off clean.”

“They were such a lovely pair from childhood. Almost made you believe in fate itself…”

The gossip began lightly, but soon enough their voices fell to sighs. Most of the Arvis staff had watched Layla and Kyle grow up side by side. To treat them as mere fodder for amusement felt too cruel.

“Ah well. I’ll go see her later today,” Madam Mona, the cook, muttered with a heavy sigh. Affectionate and nosy in equal measure, with a sharp tongue to match her good food, she never let such matters slide.

“Remmer’s away, and the poor girl’s all alone. I won’t rest easy until I’ve seen how she’s doing. I’ll bring her something to eat, at least.”

“Layla! Are you home?”

Her ringing call echoed across the cottage yard.

“Layla!”

Startled from her daze at her desk, Layla blinked back to herself. Before she could shake off her confusion, Madam Mona called again, even louder.

“Y-yes! I’m coming, Madam!”

Layla rushed to straighten her clothes and ran out to greet her. After ushering her into the kitchen and setting the kettle on, her head finally began to clear.

“Are you unwell? You don’t look yourself,” Mona asked, eyeing her closely.

A flimsy excuse would only rouse suspicion, so Layla simply nodded.

“I haven’t been sleeping well. I think I’m just tired.”

“Not sleeping? Oh, Layla… You must be studying all night again.”

The certainty in her tone made Layla smile awkwardly. She adjusted her glasses and quickly set a cup before Mona, then sliced a generous piece of the dried fruit cake she’d brought.

“Studying is fine, but you must care for your health. Look how pale you’ve grown. Poor Remmer would be heartbroken. By the way, he’s still not due back for a while, is he?”

“A letter came yesterday. It’ll be another two weeks or so.”

“No surprise. With so many rare flowers to replace, it won’t be easy. He must be working himself ragged. Still, it’s a blessing he was forgiven and allowed to return to Arvis at all.”

“…Yes.”

“That’s thanks to the Duke, of course. Any other noble would never have been so generous.”

Mona beamed as she praised Matthias at length, while Layla only chewed the tasteless cake in silence. The chatter shifted to the Crown Prince’s impending visit and the grand party being prepared in their honor—a dazzling world that had nothing to do with Layla.

“By the way, Kyle’s back home. You’ve heard, haven’t you?”

At last, Mona had come to her point. Layla almost felt relieved.

“Yes. I heard.”

“Well, everyone’s talking about it, so of course you have. Have you spoken to him?”

“No.”

Layla toyed with her teacup handle, offering a faint smile. Mona studied her wan face, pity in her eyes, but her tongue couldn’t hold back.

“If I were you, Layla, I’d take Kyle’s hand and run away. It’d be cruel to Mrs. Etman, yes, but if the boy can’t live without you, what else can be done?”

“That isn’t what we are anymore, Madam.”

“I know. But still, if Kyle truly came back because of you, think carefully. With another man, I’d say forget it. But Kyle… Kyle’s different.”

She fumbled for the words, and in the end that was all she found. But perhaps that simple truth was the best description of Kyle Etman.

“Why, Remmer and I often spoke of it too. Whether letting the two of you part was really the right thing.”

Mona had plenty more to say, but Layla only smiled faintly in silence.

There was nothing she could say.

What right did Layla Llewellyn, now living as another man’s mistress, have to speak of Kyle at all?

The thought tore at her chest. And that pain sank deeper, settling into the growing weight of her hatred for Matthias von Herhardt.

“My, look at the time. I’d best be off. I’ve gone on long enough.”

When Layla showed no sign of opening up, Mona finally rose.

“Lady Brandt’s arrival will throw everything into chaos. And she’ll be staying until after the Crown Prince’s visit… If they’re going to be inseparable, why did they bother delaying the wedding?”

Grumbling, she bustled out of the cottage.

Layla walked her to the yard, forcing a brighter smile as Claudine’s name left her mouth, for suddenly her lips felt dry.

When Mona left, the cottage sank back into silence, a silver stillness amid the winter woods.

In the kitchen, Layla began to eat the rest of the cake, slowly. She still had no appetite, but she forced herself. She didn’t want to worry Bill, and more than anything, she refused to let that man make her waste away.

Who do you think you are?

She washed the cake down with cold tea and helped herself to more food from Mona’s basket. Bite after bite, chew after chew, she emptied the plate. The memory of the Duke’s crude remark about her thinness rose like bile, but she swallowed it down.

Layla did everything she could to live an ordinary day. She closed the book she couldn’t focus on, cleaned the room, even did the laundry. At last, her mind felt clearer.

The Duke had gone to the capital, not to return before the weekend at the earliest. The relief of being free from him, however briefly, was almost sorrowful.

When would it end?

Unwilling to sink into despair, Layla hurried out. The cold bit at her, but the faster she pedaled her bicycle, the easier her breath came.

She returned her books at the library, bought soap and brushes at the general store, even treated herself to a dizzyingly sweet cup of hot chocolate. On the ride home, she could almost smile again—until she reached the road into Arvis, and met the one face she longed for yet dreaded to see.

“Layla…”

Into the hush that followed her bicycle’s wheels came a low, warm voice.

It was Kyle.