Demian visited the Lutenberg manor for the first time in a while, his feet carrying him down a familiar path to a particular room.

It was the studio that had been set aside as a space for Adelia and Luna to paint together.

Having frequented the manor since childhood thanks to his father, visiting the studio was no great difficulty for him.

Adelia, who had since become the Grand Duchess, and Luna, who had vanished without a trace.

There was no one left to come here now. A white cloth draped the empty easel, and the unused brushes and paints had dried out and crumbled. The space, stripped of its owners, held nothing but silence, deeper than quiet.

Demian stood there for a while, looking around, before his gaze drifted to the cloth hanging on the wall.

Without hesitation, he reached out and yanked it away.

“Cough. Cough.”

Dust that had been gathering for a long time scattered all at once into the air, drifting in every direction.

He covered his mouth with the back of his hand and coughed a few times.

With the cloth gone, Luna’s painting on the wall was revealed.

A tiny boat adrift on waves breaking into white foam. The little vessel looked somehow precarious.

Her painting was not technically remarkable, but there was something in it that reached inside you.

Demian loved her paintings. And the person who had painted them.

A memory surfaced without warning.

Luna’s back, leaning against the window, absorbed in her painting without a word.

He had watched her through the narrow gap of a slightly open door, smiling quietly. Gazing at the painting, he felt a piercing longing for the past they had shared.

He stood there for a long while, looking at Luna’s painting.

[One Who Follows the Trail]

The Marchioness Rosfeld’s manor was unusually bright that day.

Several carriages were already lined up neatly in front of the entrance. The servants moved busily, receiving the guests.

Today was the day of the studio class hosted by Marchioness Rosfeld herself.

The spacious studio was already half full.

The ceilings were high, and one entire wall was made of glass, letting the afternoon light pour in unobstructed.

Beneath that sunlight, easels stood at even intervals, and at each station, a fresh canvas, brushes, and pigments had been neatly prepared.

“Welcome, Your Highness.”

It was Countess Priscilla, whom Luna had met before. With the same fresh and lovely face as ever, she greeted Luna warmly and showed her to her seat.

Luna wore Adelia’s hairpin neatly today as well. Since it was a day for the studio, she had dressed simply and naturally rather than elaborately. If anything, that suited the atmosphere of the place better.

Seated at last, Luna touched the hairpin lightly with her fingertips.

There was only one reason Luna had come here today: to find out anything she could about the hairpin Adelia had left behind.

Uncovering the truth required the attention and goodwill of others. She intended to do her best in her own way.

Then Marchioness Rosfeld, Camilla, made her entrance.

Dressed in a pale lavender silk gown, she carried an air of refined elegance even within her restrained splendor.

She wore an unhurried smile as she slowly began to speak.

“Today, I’d like us to take some time to paint freely, each in our own way. The theme is ‘light.’ Painting is not something you only see with your eyes… it is something you understand with your heart as well.”

Camilla gestured lightly toward the window.

“Don’t try to capture that light as it is. What matters is not what you see, but what you feel.”

Light.

The idea of painting something without form was unfamiliar yet refreshing. Having no set answer made it all the more stimulating to the imagination.

The sound of brushes grazing canvas began to fill the room one by one.

One lady seemed unable to even lift her hand, unsure of what to paint. Luna was the same.

She sat unable to pick up her brush, lost in thought for a moment.

“Light, of all things. How do you paint something you can’t even see?”

The lady seated across from her muttered with a troubled look. Isabelle, seated beside her, met her gaze at a leisurely pace and said,

“Think of abstract painting and the answer comes. In the end, you simply paint what rises naturally in your heart. What light means to you… you just follow that. Isn’t it quite an interesting theme, actually?”

Isabelle said nothing more and naturally lifted her brush.

Luna thought it over quietly after hearing Isabelle’s words. The theme that had felt so vague before seemed a little clearer now.

The light within one’s heart… At that moment, a single image passed through her mind. Why did that, of all things, come to her? Even as she thought it, her fingertips no longer hesitated.

Thin white paint seeped slowly onto the white canvas.

Over it, a pale orange like a sunset and a soft yellow spread slowly, saturated with water.

The borders between colors were blurred, and there was nothing anywhere that could be called a form.

Luna delicately painted the profile of a man over the layered colors of light.

Before long the piece was finished, and those around her who saw it could not help but marvel.

There was no mistaking the man in the painting.

“Goodness……”

“So for Your Highness, ‘light’ was none other than His Highness the Grand Duke.”

What Luna had captured was Caesar’s profile, as she had seen it one day inside a carriage.

Even Isabelle, well-versed in art, seemed moved and said,

“To bring out lines like that within light. Truly remarkable. I really did not expect her to approach it this way.”

Marchioness Rosfeld approached. Her gaze fixed deeply on the canvas and would not leave it.

“Do you see this part, where the colors are layered?”

Her quiet voice drew the attention of those around her naturally to the painting.

“She applied the same family of colors over a white base multiple times, and yet it hasn’t muddied at all. This border, bleeding outward while holding the water… truly remarkable. The timing of lifting the brush, the control of pressure. You can see it wasn’t finished in one pass but built up in minute layers, one by one.”

Camilla drew a short breath, making no effort to hide her admiration.

“Rather than painting light… it feels as though she has drawn the subject up from within the light. This is not something that can be expressed through simple instinct alone……”

“You’re far too kind.”

“I’ve heard the two of you share something quite special… that wasn’t an idle remark.”

Small exclamations continued from those around them.

Gazes mixed with admiration and surprise turned naturally toward Luna. Even those who had known her by reputation found their eyes on her shifting, little by little.

Camilla asked her again.

“Have you ever studied painting separately?”

“Only the most basic lessons. After that, I painted on my own from time to time.”

“That’s why you’re able to paint something so free and instinctive.”

“Not at all.”

Luna had always painted together with Adelia, just the two of them.

This was the first time she had ever shown her paintings to anyone.

She had not expected such a warm response. The admiring praise was a little overwhelming, but honestly, it felt good.

She applied a thin final coat to seal the colors, then moved the canvas to the drying rack.

She had finished tidying up and was about to leave the studio when Isabelle approached and spoke to her.

“Today’s piece. It left a real impression on me.”

“Everyone has been so generous that I’m starting to feel embarrassed.”

“There’s no need for modesty. It was wonderful enough to take full pride in. To be honest, I’d want to add it to my collection.”

“You’d go that far? I’m truly flattered.”

Luna raised her hand as though it were nothing and touched the hairpin lightly.

At that moment, Isabelle’s gaze followed Luna’s hand toward the hairpin.

“By the way, that hairpin… I noticed you wearing it last time as well. You must treasure it quite a bit.”

Luna rejoiced inwardly. She had naturally drawn Isabelle’s gaze and guided the conversation in that direction.

Indeed, it was not common for a noblewoman to wear the same piece of jewelry on consecutive occasions.

Luna answered her question with composure.

“Ah, actually it was a gift. I love it so much I’d like to buy several more, but now I can’t find them anywhere. No matter how hard I look, I can’t find anything similar. So I’ve just kept wearing this one, even if it’s a bit of a shame.”

Luna spoke with a slightly downcast expression and dropped her gaze a little. Isabelle looked at the hairpin for a moment, then quietly opened her mouth.

“Would you mind showing it to me, if you don’t mind?”

Luna hesitated for a brief moment, then removed the pin from her hair and placed it in Isabelle’s palm.

Isabelle took the pin and began to examine it slowly, turning it at different angles. The lightness in her expression gradually shifted into something harder to read.

With each change in Isabelle’s expression, Luna’s heart pounded as though it might burst.

At last, Isabelle’s lips parted slightly.

“…Just as you said. You won’t be able to find this anymore.”

“I, is that so? Why is that?”