Ch.2: The Slayer of Beautiful Birds

Matthias sat deep in his seat, staring out the carriage window, while his butler Hessen thoroughly briefed him on all his family's pending issues. These issues included an upcoming visit from some relatives who were going to be spending the summer in Arvis, several social gatherings, and insurance issues for the merchant vessel that would be setting sail the following month. Matthias showed he was listening by responding with brief replies or nods.

The business was run by the directors, while family affairs were handled by the two ladies of the house, Matthias's mother and grandmother. However, final decisions always fell to Matthias himself. This was a responsibility that he had held since the age of twelve. Hessen finished his report just as they reached Platanus Road, which led to the Herhardt estate.

Matthias was sitting with his head tilted, gazing at the familiar scenery. The road was lined on either side with tall trees that arched towards each other, as if holding hands. The sunlight dappled the road with a beautiful pattern as it flowed through the fluttering leaves.

Once they entered the estate, a white mansion with a deep-blue roof came into view. Matthias's mother and grandmother were standing in front of the mansion, ready to receive the head of the household. As Matthias straightened his already-straight tie, the carriage came to a stop and the door opened.

"Welcome home, Matthias," said Dowager Katharina von Herhardt, smiling brightly as she greeted her grandson. Matthias bowed his head and accepted a kiss from his grandmother. His mother, Elise von Herhardt, greeted him in a more direct manner, hugging him lightly as she smiled and said, "You've grown, I see." Her black hair, which matched that of her son, gleamed in the early- summer sun.

Matthias looked back at her with the same smile. He then offered similar greetings to the servants lined up to see him. He effortlessly displayed polished decorum and proper etiquette in his every word and action. In moments like this, the question of whether he was a man or still just a boy became moot. He was simply Duke Herhardt, the perfect head of this household.

With his mother and grandmother walking on either side of him, he took the lead and crossed through the mansion's main hall. Before climbing the stairs, he glanced up and looked at the huge chandelier, which was kept lit even during the day. Beyond that, he saw the Herhardt family crest imprinted on the ceiling.

He was a Herhardt. The family name was associated with cool-headed intellect, gracious demeanor, and self- possession. Matthias had never had any doubts or complaints about the life he led as Duke Herhardt. He knew exactly what this life required of him, and he accepted it readily. It was as natural to him as breathing, and as easy. Lowering his gaze again, he ascended the stairs with large steps.

***
The servants were finally able to breathe easy now that their master had entered the mansion.

All of Arvis had been bustling with activity for days as everyone prepared to receive Duke Herhardt. Everything had to be perfect on the day he arrived, including the household staff. Even the low-ranking servants that the duke would never lay eyes on had a duty to carry themselves with grace and dignity.

Leyla Llewellyn, Arvis's uninvited guest, was no exception. "Did the duke arrive? Already?" she muttered in a slightly disappointed tone, standing near a group of servants. The skirt of the white dress Bill had bought for her fluttered as she moved.

"You'll be able to see him plenty in the woods. I'll have to ask his permission at that time," Bill bluntly replied. He then began walking. Leyla followed behind him, practically running to keep up. "Does the duke like the woods too?" she asked. "Sure he does. He likes kes hunting."

Leyla's eyes widened. "Hunting? In the woods?" Bill snorted and looked down at the girl. "Isn't it natural that the woods would be the family's hunting ground?" "Then... does he hunt birds too?"

"I think bird hunting is the duke's favorite," Bill casually replied. Leyla suddenly stopped walking, shocked by this remark.

Once Bill realized the reason for her reaction, he awkwardly cleared his throat. He thought about telling a lie to comfort her, but he knew it was no use. If he gave her false comfort now, she would be all the more shocked when the duke arrived at the hunting ground within the next few days. Feeling like he needed to say something to comfort her, he said, "You'll be amazed when you see the duke's shooting skills. He's young, but he's an amazing marksman." As he listened to himself, he realized that this comment might not have been as comforting to her as he had intended. Looking down, he saw that she was already on the verge of tears.

"Why does he hunt birds?" she asked, "There's already so much food in the mansion..."

"Hunting is a recreational activity for nobles. Of all the types of game they hunt, birds and the most fun, and..." Bill caught himself, realizing he had once again said something he shouldn't have.

Leyla was staring at him with a shocked expression on her face. Bill started to get frustrated. He didn't like that he needed to be so careful about what he said around this little girl, explaining every last thing to her in order to protect her feelings. He almost shouted, Why do you like birds so much?! Ultimately, though, he decided to remain silent. He knew that one more word from him could send her into a fit of crying, and he didn't want to deal with that. He hated crying children. After hesitating for a moment, he continued walking.

Her shoulders slumped, Leyla followed behind him with feeble steps. The excitement she had been displaying about her new dress a moment earlier was gone. The way she had been joyfully prancing about had been quite a sight to see. After a long silence, she looked earnestly up at Bill and cautiously said, "I hope the duke stops enjoying hunting. Do you think that could happen?"

Unsure what to say in response, Bill simply scratched the back of his neck.

Leyla began to think that her prayers had been answered. It had been a week since the duke had returned, and he still hadn't visited the hunting ground. This was only natural, given the many guests that had flocked to the mansion to see him.

There were boisterous parties every day in the mansion, but the woods remained quiet. Summer was now in full swing. The eggs that mother birds had been brooding with care were now hatched. The wild rosebuds had blossomed and were now in full bloom. Leyla frequently wandered through the forest, overjoyed with all the small changes that were on display.

"Don't go too far, Leyla!" Bill shouted one day as Leyla once again left the cottage to go exploring. "I won't! I'm just going to the river for a bit! I'll see you later, Uncle!" she replied. She then turned and hurried off into the woods, her arms flailing about as she ran. The old leather bag that she had slung over her shoulder bounced with each step she took.

Once she was deep in the woods, the first thing she looked at was a nest of chickadee hatchlings on a tree branch. The featherless chicks were waiting for their mother to return with their food. She scuttled down the tree and jotted down a description of the baby birds in a small notebook that she kept in her bag. She also tried sketching them as best she could.

She had gotten into the habit of recording everything she saw in the woods in her notebook. The land she was on was more beautiful than anywhere else she had ever been, and she wanted to remember everything. Whenever the day came when she would have to leave the estate, she would be able to open her notebook and enjoy everything she had seen again. This lessened her sadness at the prospect of having to leave.

As she walked along the path leading to the river, she kept a steady record of all the forest sights. She placed some pretty-colored flower petals between the pages of her notebook, and picked and ate some raspberries from the side of the path. The sun was right overhead when she arrived at the shimmering riverside.

She climbed up a huge tree that stood at the boundary between the forest and the river. This was her favorite tree. Its long branches were so thick, that they were as comfortable to sit on as chairs. Just as she was opening her notebook, she heard the faint sound of horse hooves coming from somewhere beyond the river.

She quickly put her notebook safely back into her bag. Meanwhile, the galloping sound had grown closer. She was scared. She held her breath and hugged the trunk of the tree. A short while later, a horse with sleek brown hair appeared. A man was riding on its back. He came to a stop underneath the very tree that Leyla had climbed. His motions were smooth and nimble as he got down from the horse.

Leyla felt like climbing down from the tree, but the unfamiliar man was now leaning against it. She felt flustered, unsure of what would be the proper thing to say to him. Meanwhile, the man removed his hat. Just then, the bag she had slung over her shoulder bumped into the branch, making a loud sound. Her memory of what happened next was hazy.

The man reflexively looked up, and Leyla saw his face. His blue eyes were like clear marbles, visible through the black hair flowing down over his forehead. By the time Leyla had gathered her wits, he had drawn his rifle and now had it pointed at her. The long barrel of the rifle shone menacingly at her.

She remained motionless, still hugging the tree tightly. Her whole body was quivering. As the man watched her, he let out a sigh and slowly lowered his hunting rifle. Twisting his lips, he then asked in a low voice, "Who are you?"

"I'm Leyla..." she replied, barely managing to speak without breaking into sobs. Her golden hair fluttered in the wind blowing from the river.

His eyes narrowed. "What?"

Holding onto the tree so tightly that her hands were hurting, she replied, "Leyla. Leyla Llewellyn."

"Uncle! Uncle Bill! Uncle!" The sound of Leyla's breathless cries echoed through the woods as she called to Bill.

Bill was sitting in front of his shed, sharpening the blade of one of his gardening tools. When he heard her desperate cries, he turned his head in bewilderment, only to see her frantically running towards him, her face beet- red. "What's the matter?" he asked. Without waiting to catch her breath, she quickly replied, "There's someone in the woods! A tall man!”

"Sounds like you met the duke while he was out on a hunt," Bill casually replied as he picked up the next tool to sharpen.

"He had black hair, and blue eyes, his voice was as smooth as a duck's feathers."

"No doubt about it, that was Duke Herhardt," Bill replied, chuckling.

Leyla stood in place for a while, trying to catch her breath. The good-looking but scary man had stared at her for a while, then turned away without a word. While he was getting back onto his horse, two men who seemed to be his companions had appeared. The man had joined the other men, and the three had gone together further into the woods. Once they were fully out of sight, Leyla had scuttled down the tree and fled to the cottage. A

"That means that the duke is..." Before Leyla could finish her sentence, a loud gunshot rang out, disturbing the stillness of the forest. Startled, Leyla turned towards the source of the noise. On the far side of the forest, a bunch of startled birds were flying upward. One of them struggled to ascend, and soon fell down amid the trees. A few more shots rang out.

Bill set down his work and stood up. Leyla was frozen stiff, staring at the far side of the forest.

"Leyla," he said, patting her on the shoulder. After a long delay, she finally looked up at him. At that moment, Bill found himself holding his breath. The little girl was crying.

The slayer of beautiful birds-this was the title that Leyla decided to give Duke Herhardt.

Of course, this was just how she saw him. Everyone else on the estate, Bill included, praised him as a perfect nobleman. With outstanding talents and impressive poise befitting a duke, not to mention a composed and elegant demeanor, everyone seemed to truly love and cherish Duke Matthias von Herhardt. Everyone, that is, but Leyla.

The mother chickadee had been missing since the first day the duke had gone hunting. Her frail chicks all lost their lives. Countless other birds disappeared as well.

At first, Leyla had wondered why the duke only hunted tiny, beautiful birds, instead of big, edible ones. After pondering over this question for a month, she finally thought she had figured out the answer. For the duke, she realized, birds were a living, moving target. The smaller they were, the more challenging and enjoyable they were to hunt. After shooting one down, he would simply walk away, leaving the dead bird lying there without even glancing at it. On days the duke had gone hunting, Leyla would take the cold, bloody birds' bodies and bury them.

Bang!

Another shot rang out in the distance.

Chapter end