The Escape of Layla

The lady died.

My sister and daughter were both merciful, my dear Lady Leila.

"Tomorrow, I will be performing Leila's funeral. It'll only be simple as a nun, but if you want to join us, you can do whatever you want."

After the lady escaped from the mansion, one evening, almost four months later, her husband, without any foreshadow, suddenly summoned me to his study to speak of such cruel news.

It takes plenty of dozens of seconds to figure out what that word means.

Leila, your daughter's funeral? As a nun?

To too abrupt a word, one thing, understanding can't keep up. What the hell is going on?

"... please wait, sir. What the hell does that mean...?

"Nothing, nothing, that's what it means. Leila is dead. That's why we're having a funeral."

At a very unexpected rate of speaking about her own daughter, her husband was put in a pale line of words. How can you be so calm? Is it weirder with my pulse speeding up to the limit at once?

"Sir, what the hell happened to Lady Layla!? He said he was at the monastery... I couldn't find him looking for so much...! Besides, I can't believe he's dead...! Very incredible!! Are you sure, really Lady Layla!?

You said you were putting your husband in front of you, but you couldn't stop disturbing him. The relationship between the servant and the employer could be turned around, and such reason was so flying that it was only best served by rejecting the truth that it was too cruel to say the shock of Lady Layla's death.

Lady Leila, can you ever die? Of course it would come to an end one day more than alive, but I believed that was a long way ahead of us. At least while I was alive, I was at ease on my own that I would not have to encounter the most painful event: the death of my daughter. It is also certain that the lady who once survived the unfortunate accident had some convenient interpretation that she must have woken up to be given full life.

But was it different? Maybe the wounds from the accident two years ago have now eroded the life of your daughter. In an unfamiliar environment, the delicate lady's body may have been intolerable. I don't want to think about it, but I may have lost my life getting caught up in someone's ugly ambitions and sprinkling flowers.

I don't like it, I don't like it. No, I never want to believe it. Lady Layla, I can't believe that beautiful, adorable lady isn't here anymore.

"If you don't believe me, you should check with your own eyes tomorrow. That's it, back off."

My husband put an end to this topic with a light night as if I were also in business contact. Though you look very tired because of the thin neighborhood you made under your eyes, that's not unusual here either. I couldn't even tell if that fatigue of my husband was caused by the death of Lady Layla or irrelevant.

Above all, I was beaten by the attitude of my husband, who had no excuse. Is that how certain it is that Lady Layla's death is? Though my heart would be much more at ease if you gave me a lousy explanation.

The truth is, there was still a lot to pursue. But I guess you can't believe what I asked you more than the fact that your daughter was not accepted dead. Most importantly, before the despair that came down unexpectedly, I was already at my limit.

I pulled him straight into my private room to escape, and Lady Leila cried at the handkerchief that she had given me. The job should still have been there, but even if I knew it, I'd be drank by such deep sorrow that I couldn't stand up.

"Huh... Lady, Lady Leila... Huh"

If I close my eyelids with a large grain of tears, that poor grin that has been directed at me since we met will come back to life. In an increasingly challenging environment, the number of times a lady could have a heartfelt grin gradually decreased, but she still kept smiling at me.

- Jessica, this is the first time I've embroidered it. I'll give it to Jessica!

A young lady still grabs a handkerchief with sunflower embroidery that she has created with many needles stabbed at her fingertips. The lady remembered that my favorite flower was a sunflower. On top of that, he gave me the first embroidery piece.

When I say joy at that time, I can't describe it in words. It was over a decade ago, so I was still the right year to call myself a girl, but the emotions that filled my chest at that time were maternal loving. I was too old for a boulder to be as adorable as my daughter, but I am sure I learned the kind of mercy I would give my sister.

I am certain that I have served beside Lady Layla for the past decade or so as a job. But one day my heart was sprouting with warm emotions that were inseparable in the word work.

Although it may be a troubling story that I, the civilian, have mercy on the Duke's lady, I only wanted to protect the will of Lady Leila, who has never been pushed around for her ideals, emotions, etc. I wanted to be able to push my back that you could laugh and seek happiness.

It may be an exaggeration, Leila, but if Miss Leila would have been happy, that would have been all. Leila, it has been my goal for the last decade or so to see the lady laugh heartily and happily one day.

For that matter, I was prepared to do anything.

Why, why is Lady Leila gone?

Crying, I tremble at my anger at the irrationality of the daughter's death.

When the lady was thinking of leaving this mansion, would it have been better to retain anything? When the lady woke up, no matter how disrespectful she was, should she have expelled His Royal Highness Prince Wang and Lady Rose from her room? Wasn't there anything more I could have done then and at this time?

Guru all the regrets circle through my head. It's a pitiful story, but it was somewhat easier to blame myself this way. Filling my heart with grief alone made me feel like I could never rise again.

Tears suck into the sunflower embroidered handkerchief. Neither the preparation of mourning to attend tomorrow's funeral, nor the work I left behind, I can't really move my body even though I have a lot to do. I kept crying until the sun came up.

The next morning, there was such a beautiful clear blue sky that the funeral didn't deserve it, that I even had hateful feelings about the weather that people couldn't help it. If it was even raining on me, I'd say I was soaked in sentiment. I felt as if God and I were celebrating the death of Lady Layla, and I wanted to curse everything in this world.

My husband was at the funeral of his daughter, dressed in black mourning, trying to support his wife somewhere relieved. Lady Rose, who was married to the royal family and is currently being rehabilitated, does not appear on this occasion.

I can't even flatter you, Lady Leila. I'm Lady Rose, but will I be saddened if I find out that Lady Leila is dead? Or will I still have that hateful grin like I won?

Rose, I don't think you'll mourn the death of your real sister. Thinking of it that way, it seemed like unfortunate luck not to have her here.

As my husband had predicted the day before, Lady Leila's funeral proceeded really small and pale. I can't hear one sob, a very lonely ceremony continues. However, the flowers decorated on the altar were gorgeous out of place, and all their vibrancy burned into my eyes and I learned to faint.

The girl who wished it had been so wrong, but was housed in the coffin, was indeed Lady Layla. Flax hair glowing in the light of the church stained glass, white skin as clear as blue and white, long eyelashes stretched to edge the lying eyelids, luxurious hands and feet, fingers assembled around the chest, all of which were no different from Lady Layla I know.

"Lady Layla..."

At first glance, you have a calm look like you're just asleep, but no matter how many calls you make, the lady's lid never opens. It was certainly cold if you gently touched your soft cheeks, and Lady Layla was reminded that she would not be here any longer.

Miscellaneous flowers laid around the lady smell sweeter than ever. Nauseated by that visual and olfactory imbalance, and more than that, I could no longer see Lady Layla's body.

"... so I told you, right? The end of a caged bird's escape is always terrible. Because of you, my efforts over the years have been blistering..."

At the last moment of closing the lid of the lady's coffin, the lady was pounded and grumbled about such a thing. It was a very small voice, so it would have been only my husband, who supported his wife, and me, who was beside her. My husband was listening to the words without moving one eyebrow.

Oh, really, this one, these guys.

Two and an uncontrollable rage boils down. My husband and wife believed that they loved Lady Layla somewhere, even if it wasn't in its normal form. I wanted to assume that this was also a form of aristocratic love.

But it seemed like a total misunderstanding. Now I know exactly that.

I guess the fact that your wife was praising Lady Layla in the shadows was also just proud that her educational achievements were being represented. Leila, I was convinced to see your wife before her body, who said something nasty like "my efforts are bubbles of water". To your wife, Lady Layla was nothing but a puppet that could be manipulated as she wished.

When I realized that, I was moving.

Pan, the dry sound that sounded and the pain transmitted over the light black gloves. I feel my surrounding gaze pouring on me.

I slapped my hand on your wife's cheek. I recognize that fact only slightly behind myself. It was so impulsive behavior.

"Do what!

During Lady Layla's funeral, my husband, who changed one expression, shoves me to the floor while sheltering his wife. The look on his wife's face was covered in a veil of black lace and she didn't look well, but she got the impression that she was somewhere confused.

Enough. Even if they slaughter me here, I want it. If I don't raise my voice here, Lady Layla will end up being abused by these people to the end.

"Lady Leila, it's not your doll...! Leila, without even knowing how much the lady has suffered and endured... how dare you..."

Tears seep into his eyes as he looks up at his husband and wife as he stares. How can you be so cold with your real daughter? You can trample your heart.

Not parents, these people. Leila, I'm not your daughter's parent. I know blood does hit the father and mother, but there's no need to honor these people as Lady Layla's parents.

"... I don't like civilians because of this. You have no idea how special and perfect Leila was."

That voice, like a heartfelt disgust, was, in a way, unusual for a steadfast wife. Is this the nature of your wife?

Sure, the lady would be special. I was a princess in your honorable capacity, born in one of the kingdom's leading dukes, and I was good at studying all the way through. It can be said that he was blessed with a poor and beautiful appearance like a goddess.

But no. I'm not talking about that right now. How can that not be communicated to these people?

Until now, I thought noble people would think completely differently than civilians about whether this was a difference in identity, but it was a complete mistake. Simply, these two are crazy, distorted.

"It's not perfect... Lady Layla was a very normal girl who could laugh and weep naturally...... wanting to be loved. You trampled on it, making the lady accept irrationality... How can such an easy thing be so incomprehensible now!?

"Watch your mouth, you're being disrespectful when you're a servant."

My husband warned me in a low voice, but I was never frightened. Shivering in anger, people seem to get bold.

"No, I won't shut up. I can't overlook the lady's carelessness and pain like this. As your dolls, I will not end your daughter's life. If you want to punish me, do as you please."

Lifting, he rises from the floor, staring at his husband and his wife with all the power of his eyes. It wasn't like two people wandering where the maid revealed her anger, but their gaze was pouring on me to see if they could still ignore it.

"You did harm to the Duchess, so the charges will be plentiful, won't you? I wouldn't spare my life here if I were to prove that your daughter is not your doll."

There was no one in that Duke's house who could hit these two with the right anger. There's no way Lady Layla, who was abusive but still begging for the love of her parents, could do it. Because the lady had no choice but to accept how irrational and cruel she was told.

"That sounds like a lot to me... At the civilian minute, you're gonna take Leila's mother's place?

It's like laughing with your nose, so somewhere in a pitiful mixed voice, the wife said. I kind of laugh at your wife saying that. Unexpectedly I also laughed provocatively and looked into his wife's eyes over the veil.

"Right, I'm not Lady Layla's parent. But at least I've been leaning closer to him than you."

"The perfect girl didn't need that kind of sweetness."

"That's your mistake, ma'am. If you wanted to name your mother, Lady Layla, you shouldn't have distracted yourself from her heart."

"... Are you trying to tell me that I don't deserve Layla's mother?

"Yeah, that's right."

If I put it that way, I could only see your wife wandering for a moment. But it's also really only a few moments away, and the wife glances at the funeral parlor with the coffin lid and gives instructions.

"... please close the lid of the coffin. Let's finish the funeral."

He seemed somewhere grumpy, so he was out of his temper. Perfect Layla, you're a wife who was proud to be the mother of a lady, so maybe the last word worked. With this in mind, Leila, you won't have the health to regret your deeds to the lady, but I'm glad you could leave nail marks, even to the extent of a scratch, in your wife's memory.

The lid of the coffin slowly closes, signaling the wife's words. At the end of the day, I burn the lady's face in my eyes, put my fingers together and pray, and apologize in my heart for making a scene at the lady's funeral.

"When the funeral is over, you pack your bags and leave."

My husband said so briefly, pulling his wife's hand and turning his back on me. Every trick my husband uses to escort his wife is full of kindness, and I still regret that even a piece of that thought could not be directed at Lady Layla.

Really, it's a hell of a place, this house. Not decent as anyone. Leila, I wonder what the lady did. I don't get any love from my parents, my sister disparages me, and the only person on my lady's side is a maid with a lady, starting with me.

You're right to run away. If I had stayed in the Duke's house any longer than that, Lady Leila's will would have been broken. No, it's so strange that it wasn't broken until we escaped.

Perhaps this ending was more fortunate for the amount of freedom we could have gotten between the bundles than for living in a place like this. The more I thought so, the more I missed my daughter for the rest of her life.

Lady Leila's coffin was to be housed in the cemetery next to the monastery where the lady had been spent as a nun. This may be the right place for Lady Layla, who was welcomed as a nun at the end of her life, but I feel reminded once again of the thinness of her husband's and wife's affection around not forcibly bringing her back to the territory of the Duke of Ashbury family.

As far as I'm concerned, it's much better to be housed in this cemetery in the King's Capital. Because the Duke's house is just a place that has tormented Lady Layla. If it's a nun's cemetery, even civilians like me can easily come and see you. I had a feeling that going to this place from now on might be my routine.

I look at the letter "Leila Ashbury" engraved on cold marble and realize that the lady will never come back.

In front of the tombstone a brightly colored bouquet of flowers was pointed at him, and he found a purple anemone in it that the lady liked, and his eyebrows got hot again. Because I cried through the night, I thought I wouldn't shed tears or anything anymore.

Tears suck into the ground when it's puffy. I even kept crying as I felt signs of walking away from the grave of one, one and the lady again.

The lady wasn't supposed to be the kind of person to end up here. Too soon. Isn't this just a lifetime of suffering?

In the end, even the cause of death was obscured at the funeral, and there was nothing convincing about it. I'm sure all of them are going to find out about the lady's end, but now it was just the best I could do to accept the fact that the lady is not in the world anymore.

Then a month. I kept offering flowers to the lady's grave, not a day short. It is always the flowers of the anemones that are to be pointed at. Although it is inherently difficult to prepare the same flowers every day, they are obtained with accommodation by my parents' chamber of commerce.

"Ma'am, it's a beautiful day. The city is as busy as ever."

Talk to the lady as she lines up the anemone flowers beautifully. After a month, I was finally able to come and see the lady without tears. My heart seems to be struggling to get back on its feet, although my grief hasn't healed.

A lot has happened this past month. Laila, the story of the death of your daughter seems to be rumored in the Wang capital, and various theories have been whispered. Mainstream was still the wound of an accident two years ago, but there was even a noisy theory of killing in it.

What if someone killed your daughter? If that's the case, I don't think I can forgive the man who killed your daughter. I used a handout from my parents' chamber of commerce. But I was going to find out who did it and avenge it. Even now, I secretly make my parents look for the truth about my daughter's death.

I'm sure the lady doesn't want revenge. I know very well that it can only be my distraction.

But wouldn't anyone swear vengeance if a girl who was as merciful as his daughter or sister were killed? Because there was no blood connection or anything with the lady, but she was as important to me as her true sister.

And there's another big topic that's buzzing the Wang Capital. That was the news of the death of Miss Rose, who was in therapy.

She had poor postpartum fatigue and was Miss Rose, who had been curing herself these days without showing up on the table stage, but she couldn't seem to get back on her feet. I don't know how much common sense works for Miss Rose, but maybe the shock of losing your son was also enormous.

The good news that the beautiful Crown Princess was quickly pregnant was only enlivening the kingdom, and the dismay that neither Crown Princess nor her son was there was any more. Most of all, from my knowledge of Lady Rose's identity, I never felt so sad.

Even though force majeure could not be said to mean that people were dying, Lady Leila would have had some unboiled emotion if only Lady Rose, who had taken the seat of her first love and Princess Wang from Laila and hit Lady Leila hard on top of that, was happy. Though I thought it was ugly, I was sure I had myself stroking my chest down somewhere at this end.

The wind shakes the anemone flowers and strips several petals. The grass was laid down and surrounded by trees, and the marble tombstones softened. This place was, at first glance, an unexpectedly serene place. Maybe it deserves to be described as a little bit of a woodland.

There seems to be a religious reason for the format of this cemetery, which creates a separate space by using plenty of large land and partitioning it with trees. Anything tells me that every nun who kept praying to the Leweyne clan is built like this with the desire to be blessed by the Leweyne magicians.

Regardless of the religious idea, an independent space for each tomb marker is very cozy. Thanks to you, Laila, I was able to concentrate on praying for a peaceful sleep for your daughter.

I don't know much about what the Duke's cemetery looks like, but it was fortunate that Lady Layla was able to sleep in such an idyllic place. Much more than when she's alive, Lady Layla will be asleep in peace.

Breathe gently with your windy hair in your ears. What am I supposed to do now?

Since my husband fired me, I have been back at my parents' house for the past month, helping out with the Chamber of Commerce, etc. My father's legend made me work for the Duke's house, so my father and mother never scolded me, even though this time my deed was like crushing my father's face. On the contrary, Lady Layla sympathized with the tragedy that had befallen her and leaned on my grief. He even told me to get some rest for a while.

My parents' home is a warm place the same way, and having them officially hired by the Chamber of Commerce like this is one option. I also think it's nice to be a merchant as a second life. But my heart still doesn't look forward.

First of all, just like Lady Layla, I want to live as a nun. Someday they were starting to hold that thought. That way I can be beside the lady, and I'd much rather do what's good for people than just live blurry. Objectively speaking, I don't think it's such a bad idea.

Yeah, that's good. Be a nun. If you spend just a little more time with your family, let's give ourselves up to this monastery. That is how Lady Leila lives in peace and with caution in prayer to the Lewayne clan.

"... when I become a nun, you'll come to see me three times a day. You may get tired of watching my face all the time, but forgive me."

I get up on the spot, remembering the feeling that my heart has only lightened a little. Unexpectedly, I was fortunate that the outlook ahead opened up.

At that moment, I accidentally jumped into my ear, and I looked up in the footsteps of stepping on the lawn. It's just the first time in the past month that I run a little nervous encountering someone in this place. This cemetery rarely faces each other, even if there are other visitors, because each grave marker has an independent space. Surrounded by trees, we don't even know where the other tomb markers are.

Lonely, Leila, there's no one else here to see the lady but me. Besides, I'm sure he came in by mistake because I don't even think anyone besides me would sincerely mourn the death of Lady Layla.

I looked back at the person in the footsteps and tried to guide the stray person on the path leading to another grave mark. Face the Lord of Footsteps as he listens to the adorable voice the little bird whimpers.

Za, and the trees roared in the wind, scattering several leaves. Unexpectedly breathe into the mysterious atmosphere of tall people staring straight at this one ahead.

There he was, wrapped in a blue coat, smiling at a young man with purple blue eyes with a neat face.