Chapter 6.6

Lisael wondered if the artist would draw her like that. Having never had her portrait painted before, she felt a tinge of excitement at the prospect of being a model. For the first time that day, she felt a bit uplifted after stepping outside.

The artist stared intently at her face for a moment before swiftly sketching lines onto the canvas without hesitation.

“Are you from out of town?”

“…Yes, how did you know?”

Without looking up from the canvas, the artist replied.

“If you were from Ruota, you’d walk past this street focused only on your destination, not sparing even a glance at the paintings.”

Ah, so he noticed my occasional glances. 

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Lisael clamped her mouth shut. The artist glanced at her sideways before muttering.

“Did you know? Your expression is too gloomy. If I’d known you’d sit there looking so miserable, I wouldn’t have offered to draw you.”

“Oh…”

Clicking his tongue, the artist added another question.

“Do you have worries?”

“…Yes, I think I do.”

The blunt question, as though piercing through her, made Lisael momentarily forget she was a model and lower her head.

“I don’t know what’s troubling you, but try to think simply. Your worries are written all over your face.”

If it were so easy to let go of troubles, no one in the world would live burdened by them. Was her expression really so visibly grim that even a stranger could notice? Feeling flustered, Lisael quickly tried to compose her expression.

“It’s not the kind of problem that can be resolved simply. It’s been dragging on for too long…”

“Excuses. Focus on the present. If you keep dredging up the past, it’ll never end.”

Was he guessing her troubles, or just speaking randomly? Though the artist seemed absorbed in his work, his casual advice strangely resonated with her situation.

‘It’s true, the endless weight of the past is the problem.’

“I’ve hated someone for a long time… But now, I’m starting to wonder if they were truly at fault. It’s confusing.”

Lisael opened up, almost as though grasping at straws, using the unfamiliar artist as a sounding board for her concerns. She was so desperate that she didn’t mind exposing her inner thoughts to a stranger.

“Do you still hate them?”

The artist paused his busy hand for a moment and chuckled lightly, as if entertained by her intriguing story.

“Well… I’m not sure.”

Lisael hesitated. Just a few months ago, she could have answered without a second thought. Now, she faltered, unable to provide a clear response. When her eyes met the artist’s, she realized her hesitation itself was the answer.

“I told you, think simply. You already seem to know the answer.”

Lisael wanted to argue but kept her mouth shut, fearing that a strong denial might be seen as an affirmation.

Time passed. The sun began to set, casting an orange glow on Lisael’s face. The artist, who had been engrossed in his work, stretched with satisfaction. A smile lingered on his lips, suggesting he was pleased with his creation. Lisael’s eyes sparkled with anticipation.

“This is today’s masterpiece.”

As the artist turned the easel to reveal the painting, a small smile spread across Lisael’s face. The woman on the canvas was a striking likeness of her, her freckled cheeks lifted in a radiant, happy smile. Though the expression was unlike her current one, seeing an idealized version of herself with such a bright gaze brought her solace.

“Thank you so much. Thanks to you, I feel like I can end today on a pleasant note.”

When Lisael expressed her gratitude, the artist tipped his hat in response. Though the painting session was over, Lisael lingered, hoping he might gift her the portrait. However, the artist simply stood there, showing no intention of giving it to her.

“Um… May I take the painting?”

“What? No way. This is my work, and I put effort into it.”

The artist’s firm refusal left Lisael blushing with embarrassment. He had only needed a model for his craft, nothing more.

‘What should I do? It’s my first portrait, and I really want to keep it.’

“How much is it?”

The artist, now a businessman, lazily held up five fingers. He didn’t seem to expect much, having already heard she had no money. Lisael suddenly regretted losing her wallet to the pickpocket.

‘That awful thief! I hope he trips and falls flat on his face!’

Should I come back tomorrow to buy it?

Reluctant to leave the painting behind, Lisael hesitated. Suddenly, five silver coins appeared before her. Startled, she looked up to see who had paid.

“You’re as careless as ever.”

The voice belonged to Miguel. He casually handed over the exact amount, and Lisael instinctively accepted her stolen wallet from him. She was more shocked that he had her wallet than by his unexpected presence.

***

Finding Lisael in the unfamiliar town of Ruota had been like searching for a pearl in a mudflat. Miguel had initially thought she might visit a boutique or a famous café, places his sister Kaera or the Countess might frequent. He realized he still didn’t fully understand her.

‘Why does it always feel like I’m the one chasing after her?’

Miguel stepped into the city, scanning his surroundings with a sense of déjà vu. He decided to avoid the obvious places and instead searched the less conventional ones. Dressed in commoner’s attire, he had left his attendants behind and ventured into the bustling streets alone.

‘She probably didn’t want to draw attention to herself.’

With her face well-known from the free salons, even in plain clothes, someone might recognize her if she were unlucky. And Miguel was certain she wasn’t particularly lucky.

Wandering aimlessly, he found himself in the crowded shopping district, just like Lisael. Disliking the throng of people, Miguel pulled his hat low and frowned deeply. He hated crowded places.

‘Could she really be here? No, surely not… But then again, she might be.’

Caught between doubt and suspicion, Miguel couldn’t pass by without checking. His thoughts spiraled endlessly.

‘What am I even doing?’

Amused by his own uncharacteristic behavior, Miguel let out a humorless chuckle. Standing taller than most of the crowd, he scanned the area with his sharp gaze.

His eyes landed on a small stall selling trinkets. Among the many items, a hairpin adorned with a small red faux gem caught his attention.

‘Is that…?’

Drawn to it, Miguel pushed through the crowd to the stall. Up close, he confirmed it. The hairpin was identical to the one he had gifted Lisael long ago when he could freely visit her home. The vivid memory of its design surprised and unsettled him.

‘It can’t be, but it looks exactly the same. I want to compare it.’

The hairpin he had given her had been custom-made by a jeweler with three centuries of tradition. Though this one seemed cheaper, Miguel’s exceptional memory left no doubt—it was a replica.

‘She probably doesn’t have it anymore.’

Lisael likely no longer possessed the original pin, making it impossible to confirm if this was a copy. Despite knowing this, Miguel found himself buying the pin. Unlike Lisael, he didn’t hesitate to pay, even with large coins.

The vendor, flustered by the overpayment, tried to refuse, but Miguel insisted. The transaction went smoothly, unlike Lisael’s earlier experience. However, his conspicuous behavior caught the attention of a pickpocket, marking him as the next target.

His wallet, much like Lisael’s, was filled with coins of denominations that showed no understanding of the market prices. However, the difference between Miguel and Lisael was that he paid no mind to it and unhesitatingly pulled out money to make the payment.

The stall owner, visibly flustered, said they had no change to return, but Miguel simply refused any change. The owner quickly bowed and accepted the silver coin with both hands as if handling a precious offering. So far, unlike Lisael’s experience, everything had flowed smoothly.

The problem came next. They say married couples grow alike—Miguel’s conspicuous ignorance of the ways of the world made him the new target of pickpockets, just as Lisael had been before.