The Maid and The Usurper - Chapter 5
“How am I any different from them? Is there anything I can’t do to take their place in the positions they hold?”
His icy blue eyes made her feel as though her entire body was freezing.
“Don’t tremble. I’m not going to kill you here.”
With a deflating laugh, Leopold caressed Layla’s cheek. His eyes, which had seemed to soften slightly, sharpened once again.
“Do you still have no idea why I’ve come, Layla?”
“I’m too foolish to understand, Count.”
Leopold took Layla’s hand and gently pulled her closer. Layla shook her head, struggling slightly trying to resist, but Leopold chuckled and pulled her even closer.
“I’ve come to propose to Hortensia, the sole heir of Orléans.”
His lips touched the back of her hand.
“Lady Hortensia, will you marry me?”
“What is this…?”
Layla tried to pull away from his grip, utterly confused by his words, but Leopold held her tightly, embracing her. His strong arms wrapped around her firmly. His low voice echoed in her ear.
“Think carefully. You wouldn’t want to fall from the noble heir of Orléans back to being maid Layla, would you?”
“What… what are you planning? How are you going to prove I’m not the heir of Orléans?”
Layla mustered a composed voice, boldly challenging him. The real Princess of Orléans was rotting in the cold ground. There was no one left to testify against her.
“Come to my estate before dawn, Layla.”
His hand sensually caressed Layla’s lower back.
“I’ll be waiting.”
His voice was as seductive and irresistible as the serpent’s whisper of temptation in mythology.
—
“Commander, drinking on an empty stomach isn’t good for you.”
Daniel’s nagging voice sounded in his ears. Leopold raised an eyebrow.
“Stop nagging and get out, Daniel.”
Leopold snapped harshly. Daniel had never seen his lord in such a foul mood. The root of it all was the Princess of Orléans. Ever since the brief encounter with her at the triumphal procession, Leopold had been on a rampage over the slightest things.
“Leave, Daniel.”
Leopold gestured towards the door with his eyes. Daniel, perceptive enough, bowed his head and withdrew. The tip of the cigar slowly burned away. The strong tobacco smoke filled his mouth. Oddly enough, he wished for Layla to come but also hoped she wouldn’t.
“Damn it.”
He crushed the cigar in his hand. It crumbled into ashes under his grip. The scar around his eyes started throbbing from overexertion. He rubbed the aching scar with his palm.
He didn’t fully understand why he had recklessly sought out the townhouse of Orléans. It was an instinct that had arisen from the moment he brushed past her at the triumphal parade. It was only a fleeting moment, but every cell in his body had responded. He had never forgotten that silver hair resembling moonlight.
It was the same color the girl had said it was, and the color he had thought it was. He had hoped she might have changed even a little, but she hadn’t changed at all. Her blue-tinged violet eyes and her silver hair that shimmered like moonlight remained the same.
Figuring she had become the Princess of Orléans was one thing, but witnessing it firsthand was another. The emotions that surfaced upon confirming she was doing well were a mix of relief, anger, and contempt—a depth of feeling he couldn’t fully grasp.
“A bumpkin from the countryside lacks manners and decorum.”
Her violet eyes had opened wide. Seeing her clearly in the light of day brought forth complex emotions. He had wanted to confront her, to see those eyes—the same eyes of the girl who had been so haughty and aloof that he had longed to see her smile.
“I didn’t know you were the Count, but I heard the news.”
His heart still pounded at her words, words that shouldn’t have affected him so. He couldn’t help but acknowledge that he harbored resentment toward Layla, even though he knew he wasn’t in a position to hold such feelings. He wanted his memory to linger on Layla, and realizing that his heart still clung tightly to her, he had to admit that he was still entangled with her.
He hoped for the Layla of his memories to remain the same, yet at the same time, he wished for her not to be, to avoid being bound by those memories. Yet, in the end, he wanted her to come. He wanted to come face to face with her again, for that woman who had left him to return by his side, even in this way.
