Chapter 79
The Maid

Matthias’s eyes went first to Layla. Then to Claudine. At last, slowly, to the Etmans. That was enough to understand the situation.

“You’ve returned early, Duke Herhardt.”

Claudine was the first to break the frozen silence, regaining her smile.

“Yes, my lady. Business ended sooner than expected.”

Matthias crossed the drawing room with unhurried steps and stood before his fiancée. Layla, who had been standing at Claudine’s side, faltered backward until she was pressed into the shadow of the window.

“So, this young lady must be your guest?”

His gaze lingered deliberately on Layla as he spoke in an easy tone.

“…No.”

After a brief hesitation, Claudine chose honesty over a lie that would be obvious anyway.

“My maid injured her hand rather badly, so Layla has been filling the role these past few days. I’m grateful to her for it.”

With every word she spoke, Claudine’s composure settled. She even began to think perhaps this was better. A chance to test—before her fiancé himself—how the Duke would treat his mistress.

“Ah. A maid…”

Matthias’s eyes swept Layla from head to toe. His face showed nothing as he stepped to stand beside Claudine. She looped her arm through his naturally, preserving her dignity.

“Then the true guests must be the Etmans.”

His gaze shifted toward Dr. Etman and Kyle, both standing stiff in bewilderment.

“Yes. These gentlemen are my guests.”

Claudine’s reply was bright, unhesitant.

“We thought to share a cup of tea together. Ah, but now I realize…”

Her face suddenly clouded, as though only just remembering the tension between Layla and Kyle.

“My apologies. I failed to consider, and committed a grave discourtesy.”

“…Not at all, Lady Brandt.”

Though Dr. Etman answered gently, his face had already hardened.

“Then let us have tea together with our guests,” Matthias said evenly, as if nothing were amiss in this absurd combination.

Even Claudine’s eyes wavered at the unexpected reply.

“We should take our leave,” Kyle cut in, his voice cold.

“I just remembered—we have another patient to see. Isn’t that right, Father?”

“Ah—yes, Kyle. That’s right.”

Dr. Etman quickly agreed, casting Layla a glance full of pity she could not hide. She sat with her head bowed, silent.

“That is unfortunate,” Matthias said with his practiced smile. “Then next time, I shall extend you a proper invitation.”

“Of course, Your Grace. For now, we’ll excuse ourselves.”

For Layla’s sake, Dr. Etman wanted to depart as quickly as possible. He bowed and turned toward the door. But Kyle still stood rigid, eyes locked on Layla.

“Layla, come with us!”

His words cracked through the room.

“You’re not a maid! Why are you playing one here?!”

The raw anger in his voice startled even his father, who could only let out a strangled sigh.

As every gaze turned to Kyle, Matthias’s eyes remained fixed only on Layla. At first, she blinked as though she couldn’t grasp the scene—then her eyes clung to Kyle’s, desperate, pleading. As though he were the only soul left in her world.

“The Etmans should see to Etman affairs,” Matthias cut in, his calm voice extinguishing Kyle’s shout. “The matters of Arvis will be handled by me, its master.”

Kyle looked ready to defy him, unwilling to move without Layla. But in the end, he couldn’t. His father stood beside him, bewildered and uncomfortable, and Layla herself trembled, silently begging him with her lips. He couldn’t turn away from that.

With a rough sweep of his hand over his face, Kyle spun around. Heavy footsteps echoed as he strode out. His father hurried after him. Matthias, with a flick of his eyes, dismissed the hovering servants. Soon, only three remained in the room: Layla, Claudine, and himself.

“Then I suppose it falls to us to finish this tea,” Matthias said smoothly.

He guided Claudine to the tea table as though nothing had happened. Her face was pale now as she took the seat he offered.

Before sitting himself, Matthias looked once more to the window. Layla stood frozen there, her wide eyes still fixed on the space where Kyle had been. They brimmed with sorrow.

He’s not coming back, Layla.

He almost whispered it aloud, but instead he smiled. And when Layla turned her eyes on him, it was with such fury that she bit her lip, glaring.

Her beautiful eyes blazed with anger.

And Matthias felt lighter.

“The ladies will be returning soon,” Claudine said at last, breaking first. She could no longer endure this endless, stifling teatime.

“I should prepare for dinner. Shouldn’t you as well, Your Grace?”

“I’ll finish this tea. You may excuse yourself first.”

“…Very well. Then I’ll take my leave.”

Claudine rose, her movements stiff, her face drained. Matthias, lounging with legs crossed and cup in hand, seemed almost sinister now.

“You’ll need a maid to prepare for dinner, my lady,” Matthias said casually, turning toward Layla. She had stood the entire time, silent, as if being punished.

“There’s no need for that,” Claudine replied quickly, forcing an awkward smile as she glanced between them.

For all appearances, Matthias had behaved impeccably. He had preserved his fiancée’s dignity, treating his mistress like a shadow. The perfect Duke. Exactly as Claudine had once imagined she wanted. Yet her chest constricted, and her skin prickled. It might have been easier had he flown into a rage.

“You’ve done well, Layla,” she said before leaving, clinging to her pride. With a discreet signal, a maid stepped forward and pressed money into Layla’s hand. Matthias watched without the twitch of an eyebrow.

When Claudine and her maid had gone, the silence grew heavier.

Layla stood unmoving, as though hollowed of all feeling. Only the faint tremor in her hand betrayed her. Her pallor made the redness of her lips and lashes stand out starkly.

Matthias set down his cup with a hard click and rose.

“Wait for me in the annex.”

He stepped toward her, voice commanding.

“If you don’t come, I’ll come to you. Choose whichever you prefer.”

Her hand shook harder around the money, but Layla gave no answer, didn’t even look at him.

Leaving her there, Matthias walked out calmly. He went not to his chambers but to the study, where he rang for Hessen.

“Summon Dr. Etman again.”

Hessen’s eyes widened.

“But, my lord, Dr. Etman surely has patients waiting—”

“Tell him Arvis has a patient of grave importance. Ask him, despite the trouble, to come once more.”

Matthias cut him off, his voice flat, unreadable.

“…Yes, my lord.”

Worried as he was, Hessen could only obey.

Claudine returned to the drawing room in a fresh dress. The noble ladies and gentlemen who had gone out earlier now filled the space once more, their chatter lively. As she entered, they showered her with compliments.

“How lovely you are, Claudine.”

“She’s so tall and elegant—every dress looks perfect on her.”

“My dear, Marquis Lindmann is present! Such flattery!”

Their laughter turned toward Riette, sitting demurely at the sofa’s edge. Claudine’s gaze lingered there too, her mood easing with the sight of him back from his club in town. Yes. Perhaps things weren’t so bleak after all.

Layla had behaved meekly. Matthias had treated her as a mistress should be treated. Everything was as it should be.

The drawing room grew more cheerful as they prepared for dinner—until Matthias entered again. This time, to everyone’s astonishment, he had brought Dr. Etman back with him.

“Dr. Etman! Didn’t we see you already this afternoon?”

Katharina von Herhardt looked at him in surprise.

“I was told there is a patient in Arvis of grave concern, so I returned, my lady.”

“A patient? But who could it be?”

Perplexed, the ladies and gentlemen glanced at one another. Only Claudine went white as chalk, staring at Matthias.

No. It can’t be.

Her fingers twisted in her skirts as though in prayer.

Surely he wouldn’t…

But Matthias smiled calmly, shattering her hope.

“Summon your maid, Lady Brandt.”

“…My maid?”

“The one who was badly injured. Your maid.”

Every head in the room turned, eyes widening.

“Good heavens, Matthias! You brought Dr. Etman back just to see a maid’s wound?”

“I’ve heard she is much cherished by Lady Brandt,” Matthias answered evenly, even before his mother’s sharp gaze.

“If such a maid is injured, unable to use her hand, then Lady Brandt herself cannot be at ease. Is that not so, my lady?”

“Perhaps, but… truly, there is no need for such trouble, Your Grace.”

“On the contrary. A maid so dear to you must be given proper care.”

Before Claudine could form another reply, Matthias turned to the servants at the door.

“Bring Lady Brandt’s maid here. At once.”