By the time she reached the heart of the salon, various works were displayed on easels throughout the space, and several noblewomen were already standing before them exchanging opinions and impressions.

Luna moved slowly among them, examining the works one by one. She made sure not to forget to turn her head this way and that so the pin in her hair would be more visible.

As she looked at the paintings on display one by one, she found herself at some point genuinely absorbed in them.

A memory surfaced of painting together with Adelia in the past. Adelia had always said to her, half in jest, that Luna seemed to have more natural talent than she did, and that she might become a fine painter someday.

Recalling that, a faint smile crept to the corners of her lips.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

At that very moment, a soft, melodious voice came from close by.

She turned her head. A noblewoman whose appearance suited an elaborate dress was standing there.

The woman approached Luna, who had been standing before a landscape painting, and looked at it alongside her with a smile.

“You seem quite taken with this piece.”

The woman’s eyes curved into a gentle narrowing. There was something like interest in her expression.

“This is one of Leonardo Brivel’s signature works. A painting of a harbor at sunset. But it isn’t simply a landscape.”

The woman stepped one pace closer to the painting.

As the distance closed, a rich perfume drifted over. She traced the air just above the canvas with her fingertips and spoke.

“That harbor doesn’t actually exist. It’s a city Leonardo invented from imagination. They say it carries the meaning that those who leave and those who stay are ultimately looking in the same direction. That light of the setting sun… it could be hope, or it could be despair.”

At her words, Luna shifted her gaze back to the painting.

Perhaps because of her own complicated feelings and circumstances, the scene on the canvas stirred in her not only the wistfulness of parting but something that felt like longing.

The woman looked at Luna’s face and added softly once more.

“Isn’t it fascinating? That you feel entirely different emotions depending on how you look at it.”

“Yes. I can’t even begin to imagine how much thought went into painting it.”

Before long the woman smiled faintly and introduced herself in a natural way.

Her name was Isabelle Priscilla. A countess who had inherited a vast fortune from a husband who had passed away young.

Her golden hair, carrying a subtle silver sheen, was loosely pinned up, with jeweled ornaments woven through it to add a touch of splendor.

In contrast to the elaborate hair decoration, her dress was in a dark shade, which gave her overall impression an added refinement.

More than anything else, it was her manner that drew the eye.

An ease without the slightest tremor, and an attitude that brimmed with confidence.

She was unmistakably a person of deep knowledge not only in painting but across many areas.

Luna took her in quickly and recognized that she was no ordinary woman.

This woman might well know something about Adelia’s hairpin.

Luna turned her head naturally in front of Isabelle, pretending to look at a painting. It was to make the hairpin more visible to her.

At the same time she spoke to her casually, in the manner of someone wishing to share impressions.

“Countess Priscilla, you seem to have a very deep knowledge of painting.”

Isabelle gave a light laugh and tilted her head.

“When you’re shut away in a manor, time passes at a painfully slow crawl. There’s nothing quite like this for enduring it. Above all, a painting is another world entirely. When you look into one, it feels for a moment like living a different life.”

“I agree with that. Breathing life into a blank white canvas with paint is a remarkable thing. I’m still lacking in the eye for it. If the opportunity comes, I’d love to learn a great deal.”

“It’s less about learning and more about simply feeling. Wherever your heart leads you. That’s enough.”

“You’re right about that too.”

Having opened the conversation, the two of them moved through the displayed paintings together and continued talking naturally.

She was indeed a person of wide-ranging interests beyond painting alone, and she drew out the story held within each work without any hesitation.

After hearing her explanations, it was strangely remarkable how the same works looked entirely different.

Throughout, Luna made a point of moving her head naturally this way and that, pretending to study the paintings closely.

She could feel Isabelle’s gaze resting on her hairpin several times, just as she had intended.

But that was all. She said nothing about it.

Then again, to an outside eye it was nothing out of the ordinary. The design looked simple enough and the material was not expensive, so it could easily be passed off as simply the Grand Duchess’s personal taste.

One could not expect to be satisfied on the very first spoonful.

There was no rush. She could take her time getting closer and look for an opening afterward. With that thought, Luna set her mind to the next occasion and spent the rest of the time enjoying herself fully in Isabelle’s company.

“Today was a pleasure.”

“For me as well. I hope there will be another good opportunity soon.”

“The honor would be mine. The Marchioness’s salon opens regularly, so I’m sure we’ll see each other again before long.”

Time had slipped by before she realized it. She was pleased to find that conversation with a woman she had only just met flowed better than expected. The hope that she might be able to move things further along. It was faint, but it was a clear hope.

Leaving behind that pleasant lingering feeling, Luna wrapped up the day with a brief farewell and set off slowly, looking forward to their next meeting.

* * *

The dinner that evening, the first in some time, carried a quiet liveliness.

Caesar, who had just returned from going out, sat across from her.

Unlike the uncharacteristically subdued mood of recent days, Luna was noticeably brighter today.

Caesar noticed the change and spoke naturally.

“How was today?”

“Much better than I expected. Hearing someone explain the background behind a work and the life of the painter made it all so much more interesting.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. Painting is… such a curious thing. You look at the same picture and feel something entirely different. It’s like stepping into another world.”

Caesar tilted his glass lightly and nodded.

“That’s true. My father was very fond of painting. He collected quite a few pieces.”

At that, Luna’s thoughts drifted to the corridors of the Grand Ducal manor.

The works hanging on every wall, and the names of renowned painters engraved beneath them. At the time she had simply marveled at the wealth of the manor, but now she saw it differently.

“So that’s why there are so many artworks. If your father were still alive, you would have had a great deal in common… ahem, that’s not what I meant, but anyway, in the middle of all that I met a certain lady. She was quite a remarkable woman. And she…”

Realizing too late that she had brought up something unnecessary, she let her words trail off briefly and steered the conversation elsewhere. And so, within the naturally flowing exchange, Luna began to recount what had happened that day.

Her expressions shifted in all manner of ways, her excitement showing through plainly.

Caesar watched her quietly.

“She mentioned she’s going to open a studio next time. So I’m even more looking forward to it― ah… have I been talking too much on my own?”

“No, it’s fine.”

It was true that her words had not stopped throughout the entire dinner.

Caesar genuinely disliked talkative women. That sort had always worn him out.

So why was it that listening to her felt pleasant. Whatever she was talking about, whoever she had met, it all reached his ears with a strange clarity.

To the point where the thought of wanting to hear more even crossed his mind.

Talking without pause even with her cheeks full of food. It was the kind of scene that would ordinarily have made him frown, yet for some reason it did not bother him.

Not only did it not bother him, it drew his eye all the more.

He had been playing a part for so long that perhaps his eyes had finally gone strange, because she was starting to look endearing, like a little squirrel.

Caesar kept his gaze fixed on her face without looking away for even a moment and asked, without any particular change in tone.

“Are you done eating?”

At his sudden question, Luna looked at him with wide eyes.

“Pardon?”

“Finish eating. Then I’ll feed you something else.”

For a moment Luna turned the meaning of his words over and over in her mind, and then her face flushed quickly.

“Wh, wh, what do you mean?”

A face gone red, a voice pitched slightly higher than usual, and eyes that darted about without finding anywhere to settle. She had a surprisingly innocent side to her. Caesar curled the corner of his mouth with a meaningful look.