The Maid and The Usurper - Chapter 18
“So while working, organizing ledgers, writing letters, and doing calculations, I earned some money. It was better than what the other kids there had.”
“How did you learn magic? Or rather, how were you born with the talent to wield magic?”
The talent of mages was passed down through bloodlines. There were exceptions at times, but they were rare enough to be considered just that – exceptions. And even then, if you traced back their ancestry, there would usually be a mage or two.
“I don’t know. I manifested it by chance. And…”
Layla was a child born to a single mother, with an unknown father. There was no way there weren’t wizards among the countless people who wandered the red-light district. It was a messy story, one she didn’t want to admit to herself.
“Is your mother still in La Ellosa?”
Reading the subtle shift in the atmosphere, Leopold changed the subject. Layla nodded.
“Yes. I’m the only one Viscountess Bertel paid for.”
Just being able to escape the torment of La Ellosa was enough. She gathered what she needed from the dilapidated hut. Then she faced her mother, half-drunk and staring at her with bleary eyes.
“Don’t you miss your mother?”
Layla found it difficult to answer the bastard prince’s question. Her mother spent more time drunk than sober. Even if she wasted the money earned from fixing Benedict’s accounts on alcohol, Layla understood her mother’s weary life and resolved not to live the same way, feeling both disgust and contempt.
“…”
The moment she met her mother’s bleary gaze, a feeling of unease washed over her. She feared that her mother might grab her skirt and plead to be taken away. Ultimately, she was terrified of missing this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
‘Forget me and forget La Ellosa. You were never meant to belong here.’
With a hand trembling from withdrawal, her mother held Layla’s hand tightly. She had resented her mother countless times. Their relationship could never be defined in just one word.
‘Forget that I brought you into this world and live your own life, Layla.’
That was the last thing her mother said. Layla slowly opened her mouth.
“That holey silk stocking. It was the first gift I ever bought for my mother.”
Despite making a lot of money, Benedict was stingy with the money he gave to his accomplice, Layla. That stocking was the first gift she bought for her mother with the money she saved up.
“She gave it to me on the day I left La Ellosa. She’d never worn them.”
‘Forget this place, forget you’re my daughter, just live your life alone. Don’t even step foot in La Ellosa to find me. I’m sorry, it’s all I can do for you. Layla.’
It was a farewell devoid of sentiment, meant to remove any lingering attachment and allow her to leave without burden. As she left La Ellosa in the carriage, she swallowed her tears silently.
“She told me to forget. To forget La Ellosa, and to forget that I was ever her daughter.”
“…My mother said the same.”
Leopold opened his mouth. The Marchioness of Zollern, the king’s mistress. It was him alone who defiled the name of a woman who lived with the noble pride of a high knight.
“She told me not to be bound by anything, to live my life freely. She said she didn’t care that her name was tarnished for my sake.”
Victoria Heer Bard.
His mother, who was more valiant than any knight, was a knight who led her troops from the front lines with unshakable pride. But her name faded as she loved the powerless prince, a puppet chosen by Baden. And when she began to carry Leopold in her womb, she relinquished the most treasured name of Bard.
Bard had lost the right to rule by the choice of its ancestors. So, despite being the king’s child, Leopold couldn’t claim the throne, and his mother became the adopted daughter of the Marquess of Zollern. That’s how she obtained the title of Marchioness of Zollern. Her fame as a knight was overwritten by a mere title and vanished.
“That’s why, even though my mother is the person I admire most and wish to resemble, sometimes I resent her.”
Perhaps Layla would think this childish. The situation, status, and context were different, but still, he hoped this would bring Layla some comfort.
“Feelings are inherently ambivalent. So, you don’t have to struggle to forget, nor feel guilty if you do. You can miss her as much as you like, or not at all. Both are fine.”
Layla turned her head away. Leopold couldn’t see her expression, but sometimes, there were things better left unseen.
“Do whatever feels right for you. That’s what your mother would ultimately want.”
Leopold’s hand gently stroked Layla’s head. The blanket shifted slightly. Only the sound of Leopold’s comforting hand filled the small room.
