The Maid and The Usurper - Chapter 42
“…Just earlier… with Lady Wegener…”
Explaining it seemed petty and trivial. He looked away from her, nervously scratching the back of his head, trying to hide his restless hands.
“You laugh and chat so easily with others, but not with me.”
“How did you know I was laughing…? Oh! That ghost was you, Count?”
“Ghost? What are you talking about?”
Layla quickly explained, and then, relieved, placed her hands over her chest and let out a sigh.
“I didn’t know it was you, and I thought there was a ghost in the villa. Do you know how scared I was?”
“What would you have done if there really was a ghost?”
He asked playfully, intending to tease her. Layla’s eyes widened again. For someone who acted so fearless, it was surprising to see her so scared of something so trivial.
“Is there?”
“There’s no such thing as ghosts. The dead are just that—dead.”
“You shouldn’t say such things carelessly. You know, they’re hunting down and punishing heretics these days.’
Baden had the backing of Pope Clement II. Baden was the pope’s ally in his quest to expand the church. Under the pope’s tacit consent and cooperation, Baden eliminated his political rivals under the pretext of hunting heretics.
“What if the queen’s spy hears of this and accuses the Count of heresy?’
“You are the queen’s spy, too.”
“Well, I’m on the Count’s side.”
It felt like his heart had sunk. It was just a casual remark, something he hadn’t thought over much. Whatever Layla’s situation was, it didn’t matter to him. His body felt frozen, unable to move, while at the same time, heat surged through him. It wasn’t because of the scorching sunlight. A warm, humid breeze brushed past them.
A strange premonition took hold. He felt that he would never be able to forget this moment, no matter how much time passed. Even if his clumsy crush ended or his first love met a tragic end, this moment would remain unforgettable. She was the only one who had understood him, not out of pity but out of genuine empathy. She had chosen to stay by his side, of her own will.
“I’ll always be on your side, Layla.”
The time when he would have to let her go was surely approaching. After his coming-of-age ceremony, the Queen would tighten her grip on him even more. She would mercilessly discard any spies she no longer needed. He had to send Layla away before she fell into the Queen’s clutches. At most, they had until next year. The time was coming, whether he liked it or not.
“Always.”
Even if it was a light remark, he hoped she would grasp it. Layla fidgeted with the hem of her dress, unable to endure the ticklish atmosphere. Leopold chuckled softly.
“Now that we’re here, can you answer the question I asked earlier?”
“‘What question?”
“Why don’t you smile at me?. You said you’re on my side, so shouldn’t you smile at me more?”
It was a question that was not easy to answer playfully. The last remnants of her pride didn’t want to reveal these feelings. If she gave her heart away, she would have nothing left. Unlike Leopold, who at least had a superficial status, she had nothing at all. Even if their feelings were mutual, they could never be together.
“Haven’t I? I’ve always been the same…”
She responded to his question with a nonchalant lie, as she always did. Leopold didn’t press further, instead, he let out a soft laugh and began to play with her hair.
“If you’ve always been the same, then try to smile more now. Smiling won’t make the world collapse.”
“I’ll try, Count.”
As the boat glided back towards the shore, their short journey on the water came to an end. The small rowboat rocked gently as it reached the lakeside.
“We’re back. Do you want to stay out here a bit longer?”
“Count,” she called him softly, and he turned to look at Layla. She was nervously picking at the calluses on her fingers, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke.
“Later… when things have settled down and people have forgotten about me…”
It was just a wish, a delusional wish.
“I’ll come back to Rhineland then, Count.”
She scratched her cheek awkwardly, trying to ease her embarrassment.
“It’s a bit colder here in winter than in Tennel, but it’s a gentler place to live.”
She added unnecessary words. By then, Leopold would have grown even more, and a Countess would likely be by his side. Even if it tormented her, she wanted to make that promise. Perhaps, with enough time, her feelings would fade, eroded by time and distance, and she would reunite with him as a memory.
“I’ll wait for you, Layla.”
Leopold reached out and took her hand. She flinched and tried to pull away, but he held on tighter.
“I’ll wait here until you return.”
His words hovered between a promise and a plea. Layla, unable to find the right words, kept her gaze fixed on the still surface of the lake. The warmth of Leopold’s hand, holding hers, felt hotter than the sun pouring down on them.
