The Maid and The Usurper - Chapter 15
“Has Layla still not returned?”
Leopold called over a maid. She shook her head.
“I believe she hasn’t come back yet. Should I ask the steward?”
“No, that’s fine.”
Leopold couldn’t shake the growing anxiety. It wasn’t about the money; it was something he could easily lose. But now that the sun was setting, there weren’t many safe paths for her to return. The road was rough, and it was dangerous for a girl to travel alone. He gnawed at his fingernails, the creeping unease refusing to dissipate.
“The sun will be setting soon.”
In the distance, the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows. Leopold continued to pace by the window. His fingers, which had been tapping nervously on the chair’s armrest, suddenly stopped.
“Damn it.”
The coat rack tilted under his forceful grip. A loud clatter rang through the room, and the maid entered the room in a huff. Leopold shoved his arms roughly into his coat.
“Count?”
“I’m stepping out for a while. Go tell the stable master to bring out my horse immediately.”
As soon as Leopold finished speaking, the maid hurried off to find the stablemaster. Leopold took a deep breath and opened a closet he hadn’t touched in a long time, retrieving a sword to fasten around his waist. There was no time to dwell on the sentimental value of his mother’s keepsake. As Leopold hurriedly descended the stairs, the stable master bowed his head.A well-trained steed awaited him patiently outside the manor. Without a word, Leopold mounted the horse. Lady Wegener, having heard the news, tried to stop him, but Leopold ignored her and cracked the whip. The well-trained steed stomped its feet. A gust of wind grazed Leopold’s cheek.
The city was not far away, and as daylight faded, the streets became sparsely populated. Leopold pulled on the reins. The horse jerked to a halt. His eyes scanned the crowd, searching for any sign of her dark hair.
“Layla!”
His voice rang out in the streets, drawing the attention of a few passersby.
“Layla! If you can hear me, answer! Layla!”
As if in response to Leopold’s haphazard shouting of Layla’s name, there was a loud explosion.
Boom.
The ground shook. The calm horse reared up in surprise, lifting its front legs. Leopold quickly pulled on the reins. From a dark alley, white smoke billowed out. Two men with menacing appearances stumbled out of the alley and fled in a panic. A chill spread through the air and settled low. Leopold hurriedly jumped off the horse but stumbled as he landed. He grasped the wall desperately. His hand met the icy, solid ground.
“What’s going on…?”
There was no logical reason for the ground to be frozen when summer was just around the corner. Leopold carefully steadied himself on the slick surface, not bothering to question the impossibility of the situation. Instead, he pushed forward, determined. As he ventured deeper into the alley, the cold grew even sharper, despite the late spring weather.
“Layla!”
Ahead of him, a large frozen figure loomed, and at its feet, Layla’s black hair trailed across the icy ground. Panic surged through Leopold as he rushed to her side, pulling her into his arms. Her body was covered in bruises as if she had been severely beaten. He swiftly removed his coat and wrapped it around her, trying to provide some warmth. Her limp body felt frighteningly light in his arms.
“Bastards,” he muttered angrily under his breath. There was no need to piece it together; the men who had fled the alley were clearly responsible. As always, the guards arrived long after everything had already transpired, too late to be of any help.
“Count!”
