The Maid and The Usurper - Chapter 43
“I wonder if the heretics are overly zealous or Baden is polarized.”
Lady Wegener muttered. Layla read the news over her shoulder. It was a telegram about the heretics in Bard. Unlike her devout mother, Layla didn’t believe in God. If there truly was a God, it seemed to her, he wouldn’t have made the world the way it was. Moreover, seeing so many pious priests come and go from La Ellosa who claimed to believe in God made her even less convinced.
“I suppose they’re just greedy, trying to get a piece of the action.”
There was a bone in her sarcasm. Lady Wegener turned her head.
“Didn’t you say you lived in a convent?”
“That’s what makes it all the more galling, Lady Wegener.”
She didn’t say any more. Layla quietly resumed organizing the letters addressed to Leopold.
“I’ll go deliver the letters to the Count.”
Layla bowed slightly before leaving the room. The cold hallway echoed her brisk footsteps as she made her way to Leopold’s room, which was stiflingly warm from the blazing fireplace.The air felt thick and unventilated. Layla drew back the curtains and opened a window.The cold air brushed against her cheeks. Outside, it was snowing heavily. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen snow, but it was still strange to see it.
“Layla, what are you doing standing there?”
The voice came from behind, startling her. She turned to see Leopold, slightly damp, massaging his shoulder as he approached. His figure had grown considerably, his frame becoming more muscular with each passing day. The boy who once seemed delicate and scholarly had transformed into a tall, robust young man. As the descendant of the warrior Bard family, his increasingly rugged physique was undeniable. and Layla found it hard to adjust to the change.
“I was bringing you your letters, Count, but I got distracted by the snow.”
“You’ve always found snow fascinating. Is it because Tennel doesn’t get much snow?”
Leopold half bent over as he continued to rub his shoulder. The scent of him as he leaned closer made Layla instinctively shrink back. He kept massaging his shoulder, his brow furrowed slightly, suggesting some discomfort.
“Did you hurt yourself? Your shoulder seems to be bothering you.”
“Hmm? No, it’s fine. I just strained it a bit during a sparring duel.”
Leopold waved his hand dismissively, though the pain eventually showed on his face.
“Are you really okay? Should I call for a doctor?”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Fine? You always leave small injuries untreated until it aggravates.”
Leopold fell silent at Layla’s disapproval, secretly pleased she was worried about him.
“Take off your shirt. Let me see the injury.”
The moment she closed the window, her firm tone pricked at Leopold. With a resigned sigh, Leopold removed his shirt. His shoulder and chest were marred by angry red bruises, likely from a wooden sword striking too hard.
“Goodness, do knights not know how to control their strength?”
Layla gasped, covering her mouth in shock. What do these knights take the Count for, she wondered, She couldn’t believe how the knights seemed to treat their Count so roughly. Shouldn’t they be able to have more control of their hands?
“I told them not to hold back. My mother always said that every practice should be like the real thing.”
“No matter how much it’s like the real thing, there’s no reason to leave someone with bruises like this.”
Layla fidgeted, unsure of what to do. Seeing her like that made Leopold smile. In moments like these, he could almost believe that all her attention was solely on him.
“What are you smiling about? I’m really upset,”
“I’m just happy that you’re worried about me.”
At some point, he couldn’t stop revealing his feelings to Layla little by little. He thought he was hiding it well, but it kept slipping out unexpectedly.
“Maybe I should get hurt more often?”
“Stop joking. Getting hurt is painful and bad. What’s good about that?”
Layla placed her hand over the bruises. She closed her eyes, and after a brief moment, a cool sensation began to spread across Leopold’s skin. Her skills were visibly improving by the day.
“‘I’ll just do this for now and put some ointment on it. The bruise should heal faster.”
The color of the bruise lightened. She wished she could be more helpful, but her skills only went so far.
“Are you sure you don’t want to learn formally, Layla?”
