The Maid and The Usurper - Chapter 14
“Do you know how difficult it is to read by looking up each letter?”
“Like this?”
The sound of Leopold reading in ancient language fluently filled the room. He was already a skilled scholar. Layla looked back and forth between Leopold and the book in astonishment.
“Is this where your respect for the Count finally comes in?”
Leopold rested his chin on his hand. Layla pressed her lips tightly together, merely glancing at his face.
“…Thank you, my lord. Thanks to you, I think I can read more comfortably.”
“Isn’t this a bit too much forced gratitude?”
Leopold burst into hearty laughter at Layla’s sulky expression. She was a girl with a proud spirit. Though she could bend in certain situations, her dignity remained intact. Perhaps it was the one thing Layla couldn’t give up. Not wanting to push her further, Leopold turned his attention back to the book.
“Reading to you is one thing, but how will you study ancient languages? Do you want to come here every day at this time and use this book to practice?”
“Do I really not need a textbook?”
“You already know the basics. You’ll learn faster in practice.”
Leopold reached across the table and handed Layla a piece of paper. Layla felt intimidated by the texture of the high-quality paper she was touching for the first time. She suddenly became aware of her own situation.
“And while I’m teaching you, you will address me as ‘teacher.'”
“What do you mean ‘teacher’? You’re the Count.”
Layla’s neck flushed red as she shouted in irritation. Seeing this, Leopold burst into laughter. Her pride was indeed formidable. Glaring at him, fully expecting to be scolded, Layla found his amusement baffling.
“Alright, alright. I was just kidding. Call me whatever you want.”
Leopold gently rubbed her furrowed brow with his index finger. Startled by the contact, she instinctively pulled back. The spot on her forehead where his hand touched felt warm.
” It’s said that if you frown too much, you’ll get wrinkles. Don’t regret it later. Stop scowling,” he teased.
A gentle spring breeze blew in through the window, catching Leopold’s slightly curly black hair and ruffling it. Layla’s gaze lingered on him, lost in thought for a moment.
—
Layla pulled the veil lower over her face. She wasn’t particularly devout, but outwardly she played the part of an orphan raised by the convent. Attending Sunday Mass wasn’t strange. At the end of the service, she quietly slipped away and entered the old, deserted confessional. Behind the thin partition, the queen’s maid waited.
“It’s Layla.”
Without further explanation, Layla slid the report through the gap. A pale hand reached for the paper. It contained a skillful blend of truth and lies, stories carefully crafted to deceive. Layla had a natural talent for lying, making even the most skeptical believe her fabrications.
“Her Majesty has high expectations. When this is over, you will be duly rewarded.”
Layla scoffed inwardly at the great hypocrisy. They had plucked her from La Ellosa, ready to discard her at any moment. She had no expectations for a reward. All she hoped for was to gather money in time and escape Rhineland without the queen noticing.
“Be careful on your way back to Her Majesty. I’ll see you next month.”
Leaving the confessional, Layla made her way to a more secluded area, removing her veil to avoid unwanted attention.
“Getting tangled up like this is just complicated.”
The naïve illegitimate prince constantly stirred Layla’s emotions. Even with a maid who could stab him in the back at any moment, he had no guard up, no reservations.
‘I was too embarrassed to give it to you myself, so I asked the head maid. How long are you going to keep wearing torn stockings?’
Early one morning, as she cleaned the study and brought tea, Leopold scratched his flushed cheek and said those words. He kept glancing at Layla, making her wonder what was going on. Then, with an awkward cough and in a rushed voice, he blurted out:
‘I bought you new silk stockings. They’re more expensive silk than the ones you own.’
She had dismissed it as just another criticism of her untidy appearance. She hadn’t realized he had actually been paying close attention to her. It left her feeling strangely unsettled. In La Ellosa, there was no such thing as goodwill or loyalty. It was a life where, if you didn’t take, you would be taken from.
‘Everything went wrong the moment I started fixing those ledgers.’
She couldn’t fathom why she was helping this clueless prince, revising his ledgers so he could pocket money without raising suspicion. Moreover, the naive young master entrusted his financial records to her without a second thought, leaving her completely baffled by his trust.
‘Being good-hearted can be a disease in situations like this.’
These emotions, long discarded in La Ellosa, now weighed her down, anchoring her in a way she hadn’t expected. Facing these was anything but smooth. Layla shook her head vigorously.
‘I don’t know. After this, I’m done with it.’
She had lived a life walking on eggshells for fourteen years, and she knew that getting too deeply involved would literally be like walking into an anthill. It was time to cut ties and move on.
Layla turned into a dark alley, heading towards where the Herta Sisters’ branch was said to be located. As she looked around, trying to find her way, a rough hand suddenly grabbed her shoulder tightly.
“Aah!”
Her piercing scream tore through the quiet alley, echoing into the sky above.
