Chapter 50
“Right. Ayla.”
Claude looked down at me with a somewhat incredulous expression, as if he couldn’t quite believe I’d walked out on my own two feet and now returned the same way.
“So, why has my impudent maid come back? What kind of scheme are you plotting to stab me in the back this time?”
Sitting with a haughty air in the splendid chair where, until recently, the Duke had ruled like a king, was now Claude.
I gazed at the face of my pampered young master, whom I hadn’t seen in nearly two months, as if seeing him anew. Of course, he was no longer just the young master, but a proper Duke now… But he looked much better than I’d expected?
Seeing Claude’s condition was not so bad, and since I’d resolved to be shameless, I figured if I was going to do this, I should do it properly. Up to that point, I still had no idea what had happened after I left the estate.
“It’s just that… I heard, Young Master—no, Your Grace, that you were looking for me.”
At my reply, Claude let out a short, scoffing laugh. Well, that was fine. A laugh wasn’t a bad sign. But why did it send a chill down my spine?
“Oh, so until you heard the news, it never occurred to you that I’d be looking for you?”
Honestly, that was true. To be precise, it was more of a hope, wishing he wouldn’t, because all affection had dried up. But still, I really hadn’t thought about it.
But I had a strong feeling that I shouldn’t answer that way. Let me repeat: when it came to survival, I had a good sense for these things.
“Of course not. I knew all along that Your Grace would want to see me again.”
Lies slipped out smoothly, just as they had when I used to coax him, and Claude’s crimson eyes glared at me resentfully. His jawline looked sharper than the last time I’d seen him, as if he’d lost some weight.
“If you knew that, how could you just run away like that?”
My resolve to be confident was already faltering; even before the scolding truly began, I was finding it hard to endure.
Or maybe, more accurately, when it came to Claude, my pride—never knowing its place—always insisted on showing itself.
Of course, I felt a ton of guilt towards Claude, enough that even a hundred apologies wouldn’t suffice. But I wanted him to know that I, too, had my own pain and circumstances… It was a kind of childish selfishness.
If he were to call me a thoroughly selfish woman, I couldn’t object.
But Claude needed to understand that this was just part of Ayla Bell’s nature.
“What could I have done? The lover I trusted turned out to have a fiancée, and his father was obviously going to kill me.”
With a bit of a pitiful act, I pushed all the blame onto the dead man. In any case, it was true. Of course, calling him my ‘lover’ was a deliberate choice of words. At this point, who knew if that would still work?
“Of course I was sorry. I felt guilty, so there’s no need to even mention my conscience. But… there was just no other way.”
Claude listened quietly, and encouraged, I began to talk even more.
I kept stressing the fact that ‘all my foolish actions were because of the Duke’s scheming and threats, and that I am nothing but a terribly innocent, powerless, and pitiable maid.’
“…So what you’re saying is, you truly loved me, but because of the situation, you had no choice but to hide your feelings?”
“Of course. I can swear on my life.”
“And that even though you encouraged me to marry because of the Duke’s threats, you just couldn’t stand to see me with another woman, so you ran away.”
“It’s because I loved you that much, Your Grace. And even now, that feeling hasn’t changed. I truly love you, Your Grace.”
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