Chapter 12

Aneta, who returned to her office after meeting Russell, quickly began preparing to leave work.

“Are you leaving already?” asked Carlos, observing her busy hands clearing ink bottles and organizing documents on her desk.

He hoped to hear a denial, but the answer that came out of her mouth was the opposite.

“Of course. Today was supposed to be my day off.”

Since she had come out and processed the documents at the usual time due to the emperor’s summons, there was no reason for criticism, even if she received applause.

“Maybe I’ll go see some art after a long time.”

“I see you still have that hobby.”

Finally, Carlos showed interest in the words she muttered without realizing it as she put the chair in.

“I hear you’re still only accepting female painters, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Is there a particular reason for that?”

Although he had a good guess, Carlos asked out of curiosity. Seeing him trying to prolong their time together by continuing the conversation, Aneta remained silent for a moment.

“Looking at the current state of the art world, it’s mostly male artists who are patronized by the nobility and the patricians, who don’t want women to participate in the arts.”

Until a few decades ago, art was considered the preserve of men and the wealthy. It was a mindset that had already been shattered, but there were always those who didn’t move with the times.

“Those who cling to the past and resist change usually have been the ones who have taken it for granted from the beginning. They don’t want to share what they’ve enjoyed as a privilege with those who haven’t, so they try to build walls in the areas they control as if claiming ownership.”

The political world she worked in was just as bad, if not worse. Aneta braced her hands on the corners of her chair. Her gaze rested on it, but that was all.

Her eyes held something more distant, something not immediately visible.

“I didn’t tell you, but I hated it to the core. I crawled up here, enduring the same things.”

After taking a moment to catch her breath, she blinked slowly and continued speaking.

“In the end, I want to help with the hope that people like me won’t be manipulated by those corrupt hands anymore. I feel lucky to have the capability to make a difference.”

“I see.”

Carlos nodded as if he understood. He couldn’t quite grasp the emotions behind her words.

“Did you say it was Madam Lefevre’s gallery? I want to go there too.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s your favorite place. Do you mind if I accompany you?”

“No. I refuse.”

Aneta gestured to the stack of papers in front of him. It would be ridiculous to leave them behind.

“You have work to do, don’t you?”

With a firm rejection, Aneta headed towards the door. She waved goodbye before turning the doorknob and leaving the office.

“Well, then, I’ll leave first.”

As she left, Carlos, now alone, glanced at the stack of papers Russell had sent.

“Ugh. Why today of all days…”

Though he respected his brother, he couldn’t help feeling a bit resentful today of all days.

***

As Aneta stated her destination and boarded the carriage, she recalled her first visit to Madam Lefevre’s gallery.

The first thing she saw there was not a painting, but a woman sobbing in Madam’s arms.

“I, I just wanted to paint, but……!”

The voice filled with despair was still vivid in her memory. It was the cry of someone whose everything had been taken away by the hands of others, seemingly about to break at any moment.

As it turned out, her name was Leila, and she was being forced into a government role in exchange for patronage by a man, and it was her parents behind this.

Seeing the pressure Leila faced to support her poor family, Aneta couldn’t help but see her mother in her.

Their circumstances were similar.

Elena was born into a poor household and grew up without any support from her parents, who believed that girls were useless, even if they could afford to educate them.

The little property they had was all spent on their only son. The money they received from selling their daughter to Adenauer was also used in the same way.

Elena used to say that, as a habit, she wanted to help those in situations like hers.

It was only natural for Aneta, who shared her mother’s sentiments, to choose Leila as the first beneficiary of her sponsorship.

Afterward, Aneta chose Madam Lefevre’s gallery, which only accepted paintings by female artists, as her ward’s guardian. Through this process, she could indirectly glimpse into the world these women lived in.

Despite sobbing and pouring out their sorrows, these women each held a strength within them.

The pouring discrimination and disregard acted as hammers striking their hearts, but as a result, their will and goals were forged even stronger and sharper.

Watching those women who bend and suffer endlessly from the shocks inflicted upon them, Aneta empathized with them and realized what she needed to do.

She cast her shadow over them for comfort, ensuring that no one dared to impede their determination.

As she felt the sharp pain of the fragments of their tears embedded in her heart, a voice announcing their arrival at the destination interrupted her thoughts.

Stepping onto the ground, Aneta promptly entered the gallery without hesitation.

Madam Lefevre greeted her unannounced visit. She, who had been dealing with someone in a room, rose from her seat with a look of embarrassment on her face.

“Oh, my God, My Lady`.”

Next to the perplexed Madam Lefevre was Lord Bennet, the co-owner of the gallery, along with a man and a woman who seemed to be journalists.

“My Lady, it’s an honor to meet you.”

After receiving their respectful greetings with bowed waists, Aneta inquired, “Who are they?”

“They are journalists here for the interview. Have you come to see the paintings?”

“I had planned to, but since there are guests, I’ll sit here and wait.”

Aneta sat at a table a little away from Madam Lefevre’s spot. A newspaper happened to be lying there, so she picked it up.

Her status should have made her a priority, but this wouldn’t have happened if she’d left a message in the first place.

Aneta was well aware of the situation, so she volunteered to wait.

“I wouldn’t want to keep busy people waiting…”

“I’m free today.”

They had their affairs to attend to. Since Aneta wasn’t the only one busy with work, she nodded her head understandingly.

“Don’t worry. If you’re feeling bored, you can watch us in action during the interview.”

To reassure the uneasy Madam Lefevre, who seemed to react as if it was inappropriate, Aneta picked up the newspaper. When Madam Lefevre appeared to indicate that she wouldn’t listen further, Aneta sighed but seemed resigned to the situation, offering a smile.

“All right, let’s begin.”

Both Madam Lefevre and Lord Bennet in front of her were nobles, but Aneta was a figure that couldn’t be compared to them.

The reporter wiped the sweat from the palms on their pants, knowing the riches she held in her hands were immense.

“First, I would like to ask Lord Bennet a question.”

As time passed, the journalist’s voice gradually stabilized. Aneta scanned the newspaper articles with indifferent eyes, using his voice as background noise.

Eventually, she stumbled upon an article that was more like gibberish than news. It was about a supposedly popular restaurant these days, but the coverage was truly ridiculous.

While the male chefs were asked questions about their work, the female chefs were asked questions that were either very personal or not worth answering.

After asking about mentioning their beautiful appearance and tossing compliments, Aneta folded the newspaper. She thought it might be better to watch the interview like Madam Lefevre had mentioned to her.

Until then, Aneta had not realized that newspaper articles and observing the interview were not much different.

“I understand that this gallery is jointly owned by the two of you. Lord Bennet, what is the reason for your involvement in its operation?”

“Well, naturally, it’s to provide a platform for female artists.”

Aneta suppressed a chuckle at Lord Bennet’s subtle behavior as he answered while glancing at Madam Lefevre.

He was initially anxious about being unable to sell the place. However, his attitude changed shortly after Aneta began patronizing the gallery’s painters.

“I will now turn my questions to Madam Lefevre.”

Becoming weary of seeing through transparent motives, the spotlight shifted to Madam Lefevre.

“You have perfect skin. How do you usually take care of it?”

“…I prefer using masks made from vegetables and fruits.”

The moment the journalist opened his mouth, a feeling hit Aneta. Madam Lefevre seemed to feel the same way, as her expression turned sour.

“I heard that many people are interested in your dresses, known for their excellent sense of style. Which wardrobe do you usually use?”

From dresses to shoes and hair care methods, the questions continued to deviate from their original purpose.

The more Lefevre’s expression hardened, the more uncomfortable she became, until a female reporter, who looked relatively young and inexperienced, spoke up.

“Senior, may I ask a question this time?”

“You’re still a rookie. So watch quietly and learn. This is also a part of your experience.”

Eventually, an inexperienced junior journalist stepped up, but her efforts were overshadowed by the oblivious senior journalist.

Disappointed, Aneta glanced through the newspaper she was reading. It felt familiar.

‘It seems like it’s the same person.’

She wondered if the question about the gallery would come up. Aneta remained silent, watching the situation.

“Well, that’s all for the interview here.”

However, there were no questions about the gallery operations until the end. The senior journalist concluded the interview by asking about her favorite color.

As Madam Lefevre’s patience waned, a spark ignited in her eyes. When she is about to explode with frustration, Aneta intervenes for her.

“May I ask for your name, journalist?”

“My name is Jaime, Lady Adenauer.”

“As expected.”

Upon hearing the name, Aneta exclaimed and mentioned the publishing company she had seen in the newspaper earlier.

“Jaime from Hermione?”

“Yes, that’s correct. How did you know about my affiliation, My Lady?”

Taken aback by Aneta’s formal address, Jaime couldn’t hide his astonishment when Aneta not only asked for his commoner’s name but also knew the newspaper he belonged to.

“I figured that out by looking at it. Your articles have a quite distinctive quality.”

Aneta gestured at the paper and smiled. The smooth upturn of her lips seemed to do him a favor.

Of course, the term “distinctive quality” was a subtle form of sarcasm, but Jaime was still caught up in the laughter from earlier and didn’t catch on.

“I had a feeling from the coverage we just did, and it turns out I was right.”

“Well, you know. I hear such compliments quite often. People just can’t stop praising me. It’s becoming quite a nuisance, hahaha.”

Even just looking at the expression of the junior journalist, it was clear that this statement wasn’t entirely true. While Aneta acknowledged his level, she maintained a friendly expression.

“You seem to have a great passion for your profession and duties. I was thinking of contacting the newspaper to discuss both of your stories, but before that, may I ask you a few questions?”

At Jaime’s inquiry, indicating curiosity, Aneta nodded briskly.

“You’re more than welcome to ask!”

In Jaime’s mind, the assumption was made that she might receive Aneta’s protection.

If that were to happen, he could at least have one newspaper amusingly under his control. Jaime smiled, as he imagined himself sitting on a pile of money.

With Jaime’s enthusiastic consent, Aneta signaled Madam Lefevre with a glance.
Understanding the silent signal, Madam Lefevre quickly suppressed her anger.

The trust reflected in Madam Lefevre’s eyes was clear and profound.