The Maid and The Usurper - Chapter 64
The passage of time that had turned out differently for each of them was hard to fathom, so she frantically searched for things that hadn’t changed. She fantasized about the attentiveness Leopold had shown her in Rhineland, or about his inability to become truly cruel and harsh.
She wondered if she was still in his heart, if only as some lingering trace of his first love?
It was a vain delusion. From the moment she rejected the suggestion to run away and came to Orléans, it was a wish she could no longer hold onto. It was only because he was still kind that she thought so.
“Time changes everything, Layla. You. Me, too.”
His mouth was filled with bitterness. It would have been easier if things could change as easily as his words implied. He told himself he had changed, that he had moved on, and that he no longer harbored any lingering attachments. But he remained tied to her. Among all the memories, Layla was the only one that had never faded.
“Lord Valois.”
The soft voice of the maid interrupted their conversation. The maid came in with a washcloth and breakfast. Leopold handed the damp towel to Layla.
“Go freshen up. My maid will assist you.”
The maid, ever attentive, observed the two quietly. She couldn’t quite grasp the nature of their relationship. It was odd—two unmarried people spending a night in the same room, yet the atmosphere was so cold and distant. As a servant, however, silence was her greatest virtue, and so she bowed her head and followed her master’s orders.
* * *
“You could eat a bit more before you go, you know?”
Leopold frowned as he watched Layla, her face pale, picking at her breakfast while waiting for the carriage.
“I’ve never been one to eat much in the morning, Count.”
“I’m not a count anymore, yet you still insist on calling me one.”
A self-deprecating tone accompanied the arrival of the carriage. Leopold opened the door and extended his hand to help Layla inside. When she hesitated, his voice grew impatient.”
“If you don’t want to touch my hand, just get in by yourself.”
“It’s not that… I get carriage sickness.”
“Carriage sickness? You didn’t have it when you were a child, did you?”
“It just started suddenly.”
Layla laid her hand over Leopold’s. He lifted her gently into the carriage and sat across from her. The carriage slowly began to move through the morning mist.
“What will you do now? I have not the slightest idea of the Count’s intentions.”
“I will pursue you, of course.”
It was the same now as it had been ten years ago. He was still the one clinging to Layla’s backside. He leaned against the carriage wall and propped his chin on his hand.
“Do you have a favorite gemstone? I’ll send you anything.”
“Wouldn’t it be strange if the Count suddenly did that?”
“What would be strange about adding me to your list of fawning dogs?”
Her rosy cheeks, the exquisitely beautiful purple eyes, the silver hair that glistened like moonlight, her pure and lovely appearance, were no different from the mermaid-like girl she had been.
“It wouldn’t be strange if a lucky country bumpkin fell in love at first sight, would it?”
Leopold reached out and traced the line of Layla’s face. In the bloody hell of the battlefield, hers was the face that had kept him going, vivid in his imagination. Now, seeing her in front of him, she still felt like a dream.
“And stop calling me ‘Count.’ I’m no longer a Count.”
“Is Lord Valois enough?”
“From Lord Valois to Edmund… to Ed.”
‘Leo.’
Layla’s voice, whispering that name shyly, echoed vividly in his mind. He still wanted to be called by that name. He could still picture her blushing in his study that day. Not the tired, pale-faced Layla of today. He longed to see her smile again.
“Is there anything else you want from me?”
“What?”
“You know how suspicious and distrustful I am. So I’d rather have a clear deal between us.”
“So, you think I’m not trustworthy?”
Layla really did have a knack for turning people inside out. On impulse, Leopold grabbed her wrist and yanked her towards him. In an instant, she was trapped in his arms.
“You’ve grown so naive in my absence, Layla.”
His arm wrapped tightly around her waist.
‘What do you think I’m going to ask you?’
His grip on her waist tightened, his hand sliding down her back.
“If I asked you to spread your legs right here, you wouldn’t, would you?”
In that fleeting moment, as her purple eyes widened, he turned his head. His lips covered Layla’s.
