A while later, when he pulled his p*nis out slightly, thick white fluid gushed out from between Rita’s trembling petals.

Gabriele held Rita quietly as she went limp with exhaustion. When he thought she’d had enough time to rest, he lifted her and laid her down on a larger sofa.

“You don’t think this is the end, do you?”

“Ahh…”

“I’ll fill you up with my seed so you can’t go flirting with some other b*stard. Surely you won’t go get f*cked by another man while full of my cum.”

As he climbed on top of her, spilling words drenched in possessiveness, Gabriele realized Rita was crying.

“…Rita?”

“Sob, sniff…”

Rita was simply confused.

Being held in his arms felt good. It seemed to quench a thirst deep within her body and heart that she hadn’t even known existed. 

That’s why she couldn’t refuse even though she was perfectly capable of it, and why she couldn’t stop even though she knew this relationship was wrong.

But even setting aside her own feelings, not knowing why Gabriele was so obsessed with her drove her mad.

Did he like her?

She’d never even dreamed of the possibility that someone of such noble status could have feelings for someone like her. Rita herself knew best how unreasonable that would be.

Then what remained was pleasure. He seemed intoxicated by the pleasure her body gave him.

He couldn’t have expected that the woman who’d thrown herself at him from the start just to see his n*ked body had actually built walls around s*x. 

Someone born as the sole heir to the royal family who had monopolized everything wouldn’t tolerate his chosen toy being passed to another’s hands.

All of that was fine. She could endure having an inappropriate relationship with the Crown Prince, even if he treated her like an object. But the problem was that she was a court painter.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“…”

A court painter needed a good reputation, skill in navigating social situations, and most importantly, couldn’t let their heart be distracted by anything other than their work. 

If her relationship with Gabriele continued like this, all three requirements would crumble miserably. 

But how could she avoid the Crown Prince in the royal palace?

“Rita. I…”

He moved his lips with a devastated expression. It seemed he had something to say but couldn’t, or perhaps he had nothing to say at all.

‘There’s no way for me to remain a court painter in this palace.’

Rita simply closed her tear-filled eyes.

* * *

“I can’t paint it.”

“What? Why!”

Princess Medina’s quarters, which Rita visited after taking leave from the palace.

The moment she went up to the reception room and abruptly withdrew her willingness to fulfill the commission, the Princess clenched both fists and stomped her foot.

“You showed me the work in progress! You drew it that far, and now you can’t finish it?”

“I’m terribly sorry.”

When Rita bowed her head in distress, Camilla soon let out a sigh.

“Fine. I thought it would be impossible from the start, honestly.”

The Princess, wearing a light teal dress, poured chilled wine into a glass.

“A n*de painting of the Crown Prince. How could that be possible in Torre, which is more conservative than Gares? The fact that you got to the coloring stage was impressive enough.”

“…”

Rita felt veins ready to pop on her forehead. To think this woman who knew that had made such an unreasonable demand of someone as powerless as herself.

“Yes. While I could somehow paint it from imagination, I can no longer take the dangerous risk of keeping such a blasphemous painting in my quarters.”

“I suppose so. You’d be executed if caught.”

‘You knew that and still asked me to do it,’ the words rose to her throat once more.

“You must have suffered greatly. But a promise is a promise.”

“…”

“I understand the commission is difficult to fulfill. I’ll let you stop, so as I said at the beginning, I’ll ensure Torre Kingdom receives trade disadvantages.”

Princess Medina seemed to have the peculiar personality of being both highly understanding and highly selfish. But as a court painter, Rita had to demonstrate professionalism until the very end.

She put on the soft smile familiar to her face along with the most pitiful expression she could manage.

“Is a n*de painting all that Your Highness desires? If I could substitute it with something else somehow, I will faithfully complete the task this time.”

“Hmm…”

The Princess, who had been gulping down cold wine, looked at Rita and then sat on the leather sofa and spoke.

“Actually, I’m planning to return home briefly, then head out to the eastern distant seas.”

“The eastern seas?”

“A new continent has been discovered and exploration is in full swing.”

“Ah.”

Rita had also heard in passing about the recent discovery of a new continent to the east. When she nodded, Princess Medina continued her explanation.

“Isn’t it wonderful to be able to visit a new world? Long-distance voyages are dangerous and quite expensive. So not many people are willing to go to a new continent where it’s not even clear what’s there yet.”

“I imagine so.”

“But I have a feeling it will definitely be a wonderful place. So, Margarita.”

Rita had a premonition that the Princess’s real task related to the new continent would come from here. She swallowed dryly and nodded.

“Yes.”

“Won’t you come with me and capture the scenery and customs of that place on canvas? So we can introduce the appearance of the new world to the people of our Gares.”

“…”

“If you do that, as you wish, I’ll forget my personal grudge against Torre Kingdom. Well, it seems I’m already forgetting it a bit anyway.”

Realizing that her career was swaying precariously due to this capricious Princess’s whims, Rita felt dizzy. But there was nothing she could do about a nose already pierced once.

“I will do so.”

“Really?”

When Rita nodded, the Princess stood up cheerfully and laughed. 

Then she opened a drawer on one side of the room and brought out the problematic pledge Rita had written while thoroughly drunk.

“The ship departing for my homeland leaves in three days at 6 AM.”

“Yes.”

“If you come to the port and board the ship by then, I’ll destroy this pledge.”

There were only two choices. Live in the Torre court as outwardly a court painter but in reality the Crown Prince’s mistress, or start life as a different kind of painter in a place with no connections at all.

Rita had always thought of herself as a painter. No other identity had ever come before that.

So her choice was natural.

“I’ll see you at the port, Your Highness.”

Princess Medina smiled deeply.

Returning to her quarters, Rita first separated the large canvas she had turned to face the wall from its frame. It was the n*de painting of Gabriele she had worked on with all her might for several weeks.

Sweating profusely, she removed the painted cloth from the frame and stared at her unfinished work for a long while.

The voluminous depiction of thick, splendid muscles and skin painted to look glossy, his handsome face she could draw even with her eyes closed. 

She knew inside and out how to draw the lines and apply the colors to complete it.

But she no longer had any intention of taking risks or getting involved with him. 

She threw the canvas onto a small brazier. The moment the painting caught fire, it felt like sparks crackled and flew in one corner of her heart as well.

But instead of showing it, she turned away from the brazier. She rummaged through her desk drawer and took out paper and a pen. It would probably be the last document she submitted to this Torre court: a letter of resignation.

* * *

“Please straighten your shoulders more and turn your head to the left.”

Rita, who had been brushing, tilted her head at the subject who corrected his posture.

“Your expression is too stiff, Your Highness the Crown Prince. You must show a more dignified bearing.”

She had finished everything else, but the official portrait of the Crown Prince commissioned by the Queen was still incomplete.

Even if she left for the new continent with Princess Medina, she had to finish what she’d started.

And Rita wanted to end her last work as a court painter cleanly and properly.

At her criticism, the face of the Crown Prince, Gabriele della Torre, only grew darker.

Eventually he sighed.

“…Lady Margarita.”

“Yes.”

Before speaking, Gabriele dismissed all his attendants with a light nod.

Soon only she and he remained in the quiet room. Gabriele approached her side and looked at the canvas together.

The portrait for his public courtship was in its final stages. His appearance painted with detailed background descriptions overflowed with dignity even though it wasn’t yet complete.

“I look like an idiot.”

“…Are you dissatisfied with the portrait?”

“Yes.”

After that day when Margarita cried in the lounge, the two no longer had personal meetings. He also stopped calling Rita by the ridiculous title of “teacher.”

Since he didn’t call for her, Rita felt relieved on one hand and absurd on the other.

If his obsession would stop just because she barely spoke a word, why start it in the first place? Why had he stirred her up all this time pretending to be serious, pretending to be grave?

But even if Gabriele no longer bothered her, she had no intention of remaining in this Torre court.

“Do you like this?”

“I always do my best with my paintings.”

“…You’re saying you’re truly fine with my painting spreading to every country with this expression?”

“I don’t understand the intent of your question.”

Gabriele stared at her face as she answered calmly and coldly, then spoke.

“My portrait, dressed up to shine and wearing a plausible expression to show others, spreading to every corner of the continent.”

“…”

“Even if foreign princesses and queens whose faces I don’t know make a spectacle of my appearance, evaluate me among themselves, and consider me as a potential husband.”

“…”