“Draw.”

“Um…”

“I said draw. What’s the problem?”

Before her eyes, a man lay sprawled in a languid pose.

Like his speech that switched from polite to abrupt without warning, his attitude alternated between affectionate and overbearing. Rita sat before the easel, completely tense as she looked him over.

His violet eyes sent an intense gaze her way, seemingly ready to devour her.

When she finally managed to tear her eyes away from his, she saw glossy brown hair flowing down around a well-shaped head.

His smoothly extended neck, strong shoulders, and broad back displayed developed muscles that created a fantastic play of light and shadow. A trickle of saliva went down Rita’s throat involuntarily.

She was a court painter whose skill had been recognized. Her nature and talent made her unable to resist capturing anything beautiful on canvas. 

Under normal circumstances, she would have seized the opportunity and immediately painted him. But right now, there were several different problems.

In the room, it was just the two of them—her and the man.

The man wore not a single thread of clothing.

And the person before her was the kingdom’s sole heir, Crown Prince Gabriele della Torre.

“Please, have mercy. Your Highness, the Crown Prince.”

“If what I’m showing isn’t mercy, what do you think it is, Margarita?”

“…”

“I forgave you for brazenly sneaking in to peek at the Crown Prince’s body, and since you said you absolutely had to draw my body for some reason, I allowed it.”

Rita just wanted to cry.

What she had done to Gabriele was undoubtedly a grave sin. Even if she were immediately stripped of her court painter position and thrown in prison—no, even if her head rolled—she would have nothing to say.

But the human heart was truly cunning. Even though the Crown Prince had offered to settle the situation under specific conditions, facing such an awkward situation made her just want to run away.

‘You can’t act spoiled, Margarita.’

Rita tightened her grip on the charcoal and steeled her resolve.

She had to take responsibility for what she’d done. The Crown Prince had already shown mercy once, so to avoid making things worse, she had to finish things here.

She would draw his form as Gabriele permitted, take it to her client, and pay the price he demanded.

That price was perfectly wholesome too—she just had to give the Crown Prince art lessons.

So this was an unparalleled opportunity to clean up the accident she’d caused.

Once she’d steeled her resolve, she fell into a fearsome state of concentration. The charcoal moved smoothly across the canvas, dancing. Though Gabriele, lying on the bed, watched her with those distinctive violet eyes, Rita didn’t even notice.

In a short time, the Crown Prince’s sensual n*de form was captured on canvas. But soon Rita lowered her flushed face without completing the portrait.

“What’s wrong?”

When Gabriele asked in a leisurely tone, clearly knowing everything, the flush on Rita’s face deepened even more.

“Um… well.”

She had drawn everything without exception. The solid, substantial arms you couldn’t easily predict from looking at his beautiful face alone, the abs divided into sections below them, the impressively well-defined thighs.

But between them… something she’d never seen in her life stood er*ect.

She just had to draw what she saw, but she simply couldn’t draw it nonchalantly. If she stared at it for more than a second, bl＊＊d rushed to her face uncontrollably.

Realizing her state, Gabriele asked smoothly, “You’re a court painter. Is this your first time seeing one?”

Of course, she had studied what male g*nitalia looked like through anatomy books and her seniors’ works.

The Torre Kingdom had a conservative attitude toward s*x, and even though it was professional education, it was deemed inappropriate for Margarita, a female painter, to study a male model’s n*ked body.

“W-well, in real life…!”

When she squeezed her eyes shut and answered honestly, Gabriele’s low laughter could be heard.

“Rita, you should be able to realistically depict the human body, shouldn’t you? Whether the subject is female or male.”

“I know… that.”

The moment she gathered her courage and opened her eyes, that thing flaunting its excessive presence twitched. Margarita was so startled she nearly dropped the charcoal she was holding. 

Once again, laughter that seemed to be politely restrained could be heard.

Rita barely caught the charcoal and tried to look at it properly, but she doubted her own eyes.

‘What?’

No matter how much she’d never seen one in real life, she knew the general appearance through various samples.

But that one was too big, wasn’t it?

Every time her gaze landed on it, the p*nis—not just large but enormous—jerked. Looking closely, it seemed like transparent, glistening liquid was seeping from the blunt tip.

“Uh, um…”

Even as she made a dazed sound, Rita made several deductions in her small head.

First, anatomically speaking, the size did increase somewhat when aroused, but it was hard to accept as common sense that it would grow that much.

There were two possibilities: either the samples she’d seen depicted them much smaller than reality, or Crown Prince Gabriele’s p*nis was extremely large compared to average.

But considering the current art movement that valued realistic depiction, the former was unlikely. Rita made a tearful face at the automatically rising probability of the latter.

“What are you hesitating about?”

When she hesitated, another languid question came.

Not even knowing what to answer, Rita wavered, and Gabriele closed his eyes and said, “Just draw what you see.”

“But…”

Rita felt like stamping her feet in frustration.

Drawing the Crown Prince’s n*de was a secret commission, but in any case, she couldn’t rule out the probability that someone in future generations would see this painting.

If she painted exactly what she saw, future generations might view the Crown Prince as a man who ordered his painter to exaggerate the size of his most private parts. This would be unfair to Gabriele, but the size was truly unbelievable without witnessing it firsthand.  

However, if she reduced it to a more average and modest size, she risked being accused of intentionally diminishing the Crown Prince’s pride, which was closely tied to male dignity.  

At the same time, as a citizen of Torre, her own pride would suffer if she depicted the Crown Prince—the symbol of the kingdom—as less impressive than he truly was.

‘This is driving me crazy.’

It was truly maddening.

Whether he knew Rita’s inner thoughts, Gabriele opened his mouth again mockingly.

“That’s why you should stick to your main job instead of unnecessarily taking on personal projects and making things this bad.”

“…”

“Drawing a prince’s n*de—does a court painter really do such things?”

Since Gabriele, the victim, said so, she had nothing to say even with ten mouths.

“Your Highness, please, forgive me…”

“I thought we already discussed the conditions for forgiveness.”

Even though his p*nis stood vertically, engorged and glistening, Gabriele’s face appeared outwardly calm and rational.

Though inside, his eyes were red with thoughts of stripping and devouring that court painter miss as deliciously as possible.

Every time beautiful Rita’s blue eyes swept over his body here and there, every time her impudent little hands boldly transferred his form to canvas, Gabriele’s body only heated up more and more, like a painted surface growing darker with each layer.

He would devour that woman. But not now.

“Teach me to paint, Margarita. In exchange, on the condition that you become the model.”

“I remember the conditions.”

But even as she answered, Rita still couldn’t suppress her doubts.

You tell me to stick to my main job.

Teaching painting was one thing, but actually serving as a n*de model—do court painters do such things?

* * *

‘Gasp!’

Margarita di Grimaldi opened her eyes with a terrible headache.

The sun was high in the sky, her clothing was completely disheveled, and the place where she’d regained consciousness was an unfamiliar room.

“What is all this…?”

In the bewildering situation, Margarita tried to collect herself. She was a commoner who had earned a position at court, a proper dignitary. 

If she’d gotten drunk and done something absurd, unable to break that habit and done something foolish, everything she’d painstakingly built up until now would crumble.

‘Ah, d＊mn it.’

She remembered. There was a truly sincere and admirable reason why Rita had woken up in a strange place.

〈Appease her.〉

It started with a request from Queen Cervone.

〈You know how much influence Camilla’s family has, don’t you?〉

The root of the problem was a failed royal marriage.

The pride of the Torre Kingdom, Crown Prince Gabriele della Torre, and Princess Medina from the Gares Kingdom across the sea had marriage talks.

The Medina ducal family was a house that enjoyed authority beyond the royal family in their homeland, using their enormous wealth as backing to position themselves as patrons of politics and culture.

Though not a ruling family of a nation, they were a suitable match for a marriage alliance with the royal family. Princess Camilla and Prince Gabriele were also young people of perfectly matching ages.

The princess’s spirited and haughty personality, along with her love of art and wandering, was thought to complement Prince Gabriele, who was sweet and meticulous yet resolute.

But despite all these positive factors, the marriage talks fell through.

The confident Princess Medina was equally willful, so she became dissatisfied with the prince who seemed easygoing and gentle yet never lost his own convictions in the end.

Prince Gabriele, who claimed to love art, found no charm in the princess whose cultivation wasn’t particularly deep.

On top of that, the trade negotiations between the two countries didn’t flow as desired, so the engagement eventually broke down after much friction.

The princess, honest about her feelings, displayed her displeasure without reserve. She had spent great cost and time coming to a foreign palace only to return empty-handed—there was no greater humiliation than this.

The side with more regret was the Medina ducal family, who could have formed a marriage alliance with a foreign royal house, but the Torre royal family couldn’t simply ignore their wishes either. The Medina family’s influence was that enormous.

Queen Cervone, who had passed her sensitive nature on to the Crown Prince, hoped this broken engagement would not cause lasting issues.  

The person tasked with the heavy responsibility of comforting the heartbroken foreign princess was none other than the court painter, Margarita—herself.  

Rita possessed a remarkable quality beyond her artistic talent, which had secured her current position. She treated others with respect and could engage in pleasant conversations with anyone.

Well-versed in the latest topics and social skills, with passion and conviction for her profession, Rita was a star that sparkled even in a court full of charming people.

Queen Cervone expected that Rita’s personality, which made everyone feel favorable toward her, could also soften Princess Medina. But the thoroughly upset princess was a difficult opponent even for the socially skilled Rita.

Since she somehow had to fulfill the noble Queen’s instructions, Rita had followed Princess Medina around until the end last night.

The room where she’d opened her eyes was decorated in Gares Kingdom style. Rita held her throbbing forehead and desperately retraced her memories to find the reason she’d ended up here.

“What did I do…?”

“Hmm, a rather lovely promise, shall we say?”

At the sound that came as the door suddenly opened, Rita was so startled she nearly fell over.

“P-Princess Medina.”

“Call me Camilla. Here’s some hangover juice.”

Unlike Rita, whose appearance was a mess, the princess had her green hair neatly combed down. But because she’d left a couple of top buttons undone, she looked debauched rather than proper.

The drink she offered tasted of finely ground vegetables and sugar.

“A lovely promise?”

“Yes.”

Camilla stared at her uncomfortably until Rita gulped down all the hangover juice, then held out something else.

“A pledge…?”