Flying Through This Spring Like a Bird

"An understandable choice, of course—but I can't help feeling disappointed."

Colonel Farrell, Commander of the Royal Guard, regarded Matthias with a quiet smile. Matthias met his superior's gaze with unwavering calm.

"It feels like losing a capable officer. Looking at the empire as a whole, keeping the Duke of Herhardt bound to the military would be the greater loss—but I'm speaking as a soldier."

The regret in his eyes was far too genuine to pass for mere courtesy.

Captain Herhardt had been scheduled to remain with the Guard another year when he suddenly changed his mind. When the papers that arrived were not for an extension of service but for discharge, the colonel had been thoroughly surprised. He would have liked to persuade him otherwise, but the stated reason was the advanced age of the Dowager Duchess of Herhardt—and there was simply no pretext left to hold him.

"Thank you for everything, sir."

Matthias offered a proper bow of farewell.

By rank of birth, the Duke of Herhardt far outstripped him; yet Matthias had always observed the due respect owed a commanding officer. It set him distinctly apart from those noble officers who could never separate public duty from private privilege, and the colonel had always valued him for it. The same held true of Matthias's choice of a harsh overseas front as his first posting, and the distinction he had earned there.

"When you are in Lutz, be sure to look me up."

Matthias readily took the hand the colonel extended.

"Yes, Colonel."

With a firm clasp of farewell, Matthias left the colonel's residence.

Outside, a languid spring sun poured down over the street.

The car carrying Matthias made its way into the heart of Lutz. Only after he had called on several more superior officers there did the days-long round of leave-taking finally come to an end.

He was approaching the waiting car when he stopped short. His gaze fixed on the far end of the road across the way. It was Leila. The woman walking toward him through the bustling streets of Lutz could be no one else.

"Your Grace."

His attendant came up to him where he stood motionless.

"Go on ahead."

Matthias gave the brief order, his eyes still fixed on the opposite street.

It was Leila. Impossible as it seemed, he did not doubt it for a moment.

He crossed the road in long strides.

Even a second look could not diminish the museum's scale.

Leila gazed up at the magnificent façade of the Berg Empire Natural History Museum with the same wonder as on her first day.

The day after their arrival in Lutz, Kyle had brought her here first of all. The Museum of Art History and the Natural History Museum stood facing each other across the grand avenue—two of Lutz's proudest treasures, he had said. Even Leila, long accustomed to the prosperity of Carlsbard, found herself captivated by this street as by nowhere else in the capital.

School friends who had visited the capital had all praised the beauty of the art museum, but Leila had chosen the Natural History Museum without a second's hesitation. As Kyle had declared, it was paradise to her. The only trouble was that it was far too vast to see in a single day.

If I give today over entirely, and set aside one more day before we leave Lutz, I should just about manage it. With that resolve fixed, Leila stepped into the museum lobby on light, eager feet.

Kyle had offered again to accompany her, but she had refused. She had finished her examinations the day before; his were tomorrow. However well prepared one might be, she could not drag him here on the eve of an exam.

Before entering the galleries, she steeled herself once more.

Comfortable shoes—ready.

Notebook and pen—ready.

Stores of stamina—ready as well.

Notebook and pen in hand, Leila set off at a brisk little trot toward the galleries she had not finished the day before.

Today, Leila Lewellin looked for all the world like a child out on a picnic.

Matthias watched her in silence as she tirelessly roamed gallery after spacious gallery.

The moment he had confirmed the woman entering the Natural History Museum from behind, he had known it was Leila—yet he had followed at a measured distance. For a while he had simply been curious what she meant to do; once he saw, he found he wanted to keep watching a little longer.

Come to think of it, the university entrance examinations in the capital fell around this time of year. That she had come to sit them suggested she had settled her mind on going to university. On marrying Kyle Etman as well, no doubt.

Leila stood pressed close to a glass case crowded with botanical specimens, scribbling diligently. She even smiled—as if gazing at jewels. What possible charm a mere specimen could hold for her was beyond his guessing.

He considered approaching, then decided to watch a little more. The moment he went near, she would stop smiling.

Hands clasped behind his back, Matthias followed her path at an unhurried pace.

She looked little changed from last summer, and yet something subtle was different—her face a fraction thinner, her expression gentler, the softer way she moved. In a white dress trimmed with lace, she seemed somehow more grown than before.

At last she left the plant-specimen gallery and stopped dead before the passage leading to the next. Matthias understood the reason at once.

The corridor linking one gallery to another was like heaven itself. Silver-painted branches were dressed with pure white feathers as if with leaves, and crystal ornaments shaped like birds of every color hung among them, catching the light and rendering the whole space more dreamlike still.

"Ohhh—!"

Leila's pure, unguarded wonder carried all the way to him.

Watching her run ahead in delight, Matthias found himself laughing under his breath. Her abundant golden hair and the skirts of her dress fluttered after her like a child's.

Halfway down that beautiful corridor she stopped. She stretched up on her toes toward an ornament, reaching with all her might—but her fingertips still fell short of the bird.

While she gazed up at the ceiling in continuous wonder, Matthias closed the distance without hesitation. He was a fraction faster than the moment she sensed his presence—and from behind, he lifted her lightly into his arms.

Startled, she turned her head—only to find herself already rising into the air as if taking flight. The crystal bird that had been beyond reach glittered now at eye level. It was a strange and beautiful moment, like dreaming with open eyes—as if she might fly anywhere through this spring, like a bird.

Matthias set her down again as though nothing at all had happened. The white skirts that had billowed full settled softly, brushing her calves.

Hiding behind her back the hand that still held the unexpected feel of crystal, Leila looked up at him in a daze. In that same interval he slowly removed his officer's cap. Blue eyes—the same blue as on that late-summer afternoon—held her in their depths.

Beneath the museum's dome sat a café that served light meals and drinks. It was where she and Kyle had lunched on their first day.

Matthias led the way toward it. Understanding what that meant, Leila frowned and stopped where she was.

"It was a pleasure to see you, Your Grace. I shall take my leave now."

At her words, Matthias turned. Having steadied her breath, Leila bowed her head to him.

"Stay where you are."

The order followed her as she turned away.

She took a few more steps regardless—but in the end she could not escape. In the blink of an eye Matthias overtook her and blocked her path. She could feel the glances of passersby sliding toward them.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Leila demanded sharply, glancing around.

"I don't like this."

"Don't like what."

"…This. I don't like this."

His utterly unperturbed manner only stoked her anger higher.

"You shouldn't do this."

Her restless hands closed tight around the strap of the bag slung over her shoulder.

"Now that—well—"

"Do you want to try doing something you shouldn't?"

A faint laugh threaded his voice. For a moment Leila could only blink in sheer disbelief; then her face twisted and she shook her head hard.

"No!"

The insult of it made both her hands begin to tremble.

"Absolutely not!"

A vivid heat burned in both cheeks. She must have gone scarlet. The shame of that only made her face burn hotter still. Calm and almost amused, the duke stood before her—and she alone was left like this.

Matthias's gaze, which had been drifting idly over their surroundings, came to rest on her face once more.

"Buying a cup of tea for an orphan from my estate whom I happen to meet in the capital. What possible problem could there be with such a kindness?"

Even when he spoke words meant to humiliate, his manner remained serenely detached.

"There's no problem at all."

The smile was gone; his eyes had settled into something cold.

"Isn't that so, Leila?"

With that question, half to himself, Matthias started again toward the café. Watching his back, Leila let a long, thin breath escape her lips.

She could not claim to know the Duke of Herhardt well—but one fact, at least, had become perfectly clear. That man would have what he wanted by any means necessary, and the more one opposed him, the deeper the trouble one sank into.

Resigned, Leila followed him with heavy steps.

Not long after they ordered, a waiter brought two cups of coffee. Between the two silent figures the cups sent up pale threads of steam.

"I never expected to meet Your Grace in a place like this."

Leila forced herself to speak. She could not bear the silence a moment longer; she had to say something—anything.

"I didn't realize Your Grace had an interest in natural his—"

"I don't."

Matthias cut her off as he set down his cup after a single sip.

"You already know that, Leila."

One corner of his mouth curved in a faint sneer.

"That I have no interest whatsoever in things like these."

"Then the appointment, or—"

"You know this wasn't chance, either."

"No."

The denial came by reflex. Strength flooded her body; her heartbeat staggered out of rhythm. She would rather have remained the lowly orphan who received the duke's pity. She wanted to be nothing else to this man—nothing at all.

"All I know is—"

Her voice kept trembling; she swallowed dryly and tried again.

"—that Your Grace dislikes me. That is all."

As if to erase the sudden, dreadful memory of their first kiss, Leila closed her eyes. It did no good. When she opened them, Matthias was still there, those blue eyes still fixed on her—and the memory became the present again, binding her tight.

"Yes. I dislike you."

Matthias agreed with easy frankness. A dry smile hovered at the lifted corner of his mouth.

"I dislike you now to a truly dreadful degree, Leila."