The Maid and The Usurper - Chapter 52
“A heretic? Me?”
Layla couldn’t help but be surprised. No matter how little faith she had, she had done nothing to be suspected of heresy. Moreover, her records showed she had been raised in a convent. How could she be accused of heresy?
“One of the priests at the convent you were in is a Cathar.”
“A Cathar? That’s nonsense! How could there be a Cathar at a convent?”
The Cathars had been eradicated by the Crusaders over a decade ago. There had been rumors that some still existed in hiding, but there was no way a Cathar could be at a convent.
“It’s not the circumstances that matter, it’s the outcome.”
His voice was laced with sarcasm.
“The important thing is that they’re planning to accuse you of heresy, and I’m getting mixed up in it.”
Layla was momentarily at a loss for words. The Queen’s tenacity was frightening. She had no idea how to overcome this situation.
“I guess I’ve been too obvious about my feelings for you.”
Leopold looked sheepish, and Layla wanted to pretend she hadn’t heard him.
“Don’t blame yourself. This was bound to happen once I came here, Count.”
Layla fiddled with her hands, speaking carefully.
“I’ll just run away. I can fake my death and escape.”
Now that there was a corpse with a face that looked like her, it wouldn’t be difficult. With a little time, she could escape without a hitch. This was how it had to end. Both she and Leopold had to conclude their bittersweet first love this way.
“They won’t be able to accuse you of anything without me around. And… you should… get married soon.”
She thought she had said it nonchalantly, smiling lightly as she spoke.
“What?”
“The more entangled you are, the less likely the Queen will be able to touch you. You have many choices, Count.”
“Layla.”
His low voice interrupted her. His strong hand gripped her shoulder.
“Have you forgotten what I said?”
She couldn’t forget. No, she wanted to forget. She truly wished to carve that memory out of her mind. It made her feel miserable and restless. He was someone she could never have. Why did he give her false hope and make her want him?
“The one who has forgotten is you, Count.”
This was her last feeble attempt at protecting her dignity. If she gave her heart away, she would have nothing left.
“I’ve seen plenty of young lords whispering their love to courtesans at La Ellosa.”
They were tales of doomed love, of naïve courtesans who cried over promises that meant nothing, and those who had become hardened and indifferent. Reality was harsh, and romance felt distant.
“And you know the story of the Duke of Orléans, don’t you, Count?”
It was a story that once shook the kingdom. The only heir of the Duke of Orléans, Marquess Adalbert, fell in love with a common merchant’s daughter. It should have ended as a foolish young love.
“In the end, he gave up everything.”
The Marquess of Orléans had run away with the merchant’s daughter and vanished without a trace. The Duke of Orléans searched desperately, but they never found him. Sometimes, when she heard Benedict gossiping, Layla wondered if they were happy. But in her heart, she believed their story would end in tragedy.
“It’s just a fleeting emotion. You wouldn’t throw everything away for that, would you?”
In truth, she envied that nameless merchant’s daughter more than anyone else, for having someone who loved her so much.
“Then can you trust me if I ask you to leave with me?”
His deep blue eyes darkened like the evening sky. Layla was momentarily taken aback and lost her words.
“I’m leaving, Layla. I won’t live as the Count of Rhineland or as Leopold Lear Edehardt anymore.”
Layla instinctively stepped back, unsure of what she had just heard.
“I think you’re taking this too far, Count. No, this isn’t just a joke; it’s an immature, unworldly remark.”
“I’m not that young, Layla.”
He had grown larger and taller than before. Even knowing he was two years older than her, she sometimes forgot that.
“When I leave here, I’ll become a mercenary. I’ve already found a suitable place.”
“A mercenary? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? You’re putting your life at risk for money. Get a grip, Count. I’m giving you serious advice here.”
“Are you worried about me? That’s kind of you.”
Layla was once again at a loss for words. She turned her head to avoid Leopold’s gaze. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the face.
