Only after reaching the main gate did she look back. In the distance, on the left side of the mansion building, she could see the reception room window covered with curtains that blocked the view inside. A blurry silhouette of a person was visible.

She thought it might be a servant cleaning the room, but suddenly Dale’s voice came to mind.

‘Until the painting is completed, only you and I will enter this room.’

Gloria stared at the shadow.

Though she couldn’t be certain, an undeniable feeling kept brushing through her mind.

She would have to stay in his mansion’s reception room for about three hours, twice a week.

This was only their second meeting.

She had worried about him discovering her identity, not thinking the painting itself would be a problem. The written conversations were as obvious a defensive measure as her scarf and hat.

The more they talked, the more she would be exposed. So she aimed to minimize conversation.

But today, as she handed Dale the sketchbook filled with her voice, she finally felt something was strange.

She had thought this method would work with Dale because he was described as someone aloof to others who rarely initiated conversation.

‘Why doesn’t anything ever go according to the original manual?’

The shadow lingered by the window for a while, then disappeared around the time Gloria started walking again.

Gloria began walking forward again.

Even after arriving at the studio, she couldn’t stay still for a long time.

She would sit in front of the easel, tap the canvas for a while, then get up again and wander around the studio.

Peter, who had noticed Gloria’s mood swinging dramatically since returning from the mansion, tried to pretend not to notice.

However, when she tripped over a pile of canvases she had stacked and fell with a crash, he finally rose from his seat.

“Is something troubling you?”

Gloria, who had been clutching her torn toe without even being able to scream, hobbled to her feet.

“No.”

Her face was clearly full of worry to anyone who looked. The tears slightly pooled in her eyes were a bonus.

“Is the portrait not going well?”

“It’s progressing smoothly.”

“Is the Count suspicious?”

“I can’t tell, but he was quite friendly.”

“Then isn’t that good news?”

Gloria’s lips formed a weak arc.

“Yes.”

She answered that way, but in truth, Gloria couldn’t quite distinguish what was good news.

What had she expected in the first place?

She had expected Dale to be strictly businesslike, formal, and showing no interest in J as a person.

It was the painting he liked, not J.

He said that whenever he visited the gallery, he bought paintings he liked, not artists he liked.

The same applied to J.

He had commissioned the portrait because he liked her painting, not because he liked J.

So J should simply use her skills to paint the portrait for him, and that would be it.

He was supposed to be the kind of Dale who wouldn’t be particularly curious even if she looked suspicious, wrote instead of speaking, or wore obvious male disguise.

He had no reason to be wary of a frail artist. Or rather, if he had needed to be wary, he wouldn’t have tolerated it in the first place.

The Dale that Gloria knew wouldn’t engage in proper conversation, let alone smile so easily.

One might say she was making too much of it—Dale wasn’t a doll, and he was human who would bleed red if pricked—but for Dale, it made sense.

In the original work, he was described as always maintaining strict courtesy to other ladies within minimal boundaries, but never going beyond that.

There wasn’t even the customary reciprocal questioning.

If some brave lady gathered her courage to start a conversation, he would answer. He wouldn’t ignore her to her face. But no matter how she tried to continue the topic, it would repeatedly end after three exchanges, and even the brave lady would eventually have her spirit crushed by embarrassment.

It was a very blatant line. One he would never allow anyone to cross.

Since his attitude itself was that of an impeccable gentleman, no one could reproach him for being rude.

He would at least respond to fellow gentlemen, but he would make it obvious when he had no interest.

Things were so bad that Isabel would scold him, saying he should show others at least half the attention he showed her.

In fact, just because Dale only allowed Isabel close to him didn’t mean he became a completely different person in front of her.

But everyone who saw the two of them knew.

The faint smile at the corners of his mouth and the tender gaze that rarely left her.

Despite Dale’s aloofness, Isabel always chattered away, and Dale always listened to her words.

So naturally, Gloria thought that if she maintained a wide distance from Dale as J, they wouldn’t know anything about each other until the painting was completed.

It seemed ridiculous to be acting this way after just one encounter, but his voice kept spinning around in her head.

In any case, Dale and J becoming even slightly closer was not a good picture.

After organizing her thoughts, Gloria explained the situation.

“He asked if I was left-handed.”

“Wasn’t that something you expected?”

“I thought he wouldn’t ask.”

“But he did. Did he press the issue?”

“No.”

“Then is there any chance he’ll discover your identity because you’re left-handed?”

“No.”

“I thought so. Since you normally use your right hand.”

Gloria was at a loss for words, and after a moment, Peter added:

“Don’t overthink it.”

That was slightly late advice for Gloria, who had already dug deep into her thoughts.

“Being cautious and needlessly worrying are different things. Miss, when thoughts deepen, emotions deepen too.”

Peter had noticed what kind of emotions Gloria had for Dale.

She wasn’t worried about things going wrong or problems arising.

It wasn’t about the client’s suspicions either.

This was different from what Gloria and Peter had initially been concerned about.

“When emotions get involved, things tend to go awry.”

Gloria’s busy movements stopped. She sat across from Peter and became lost in thought for a while.

“Master, have you ever painted your ideal type?”

“Many times.”

“You had many ideal types?”

“I might have painted the same person multiple times.”

Peter and Gloria burst into laughter simultaneously. It was like a shared understanding between people in the same field.

Gloria had opened her heart to Peter before her family since coming here. Things they knew without having to say. Even with different worlds and different times, those who appreciated beauty had a strange bond.

Because they understood quickly without needing complicated explanations.

Additionally, Peter was short for a man, with a small build and delicate features.

So he said this to Gloria, who was disguised as a man:

‘Cultured individuals don’t bluntly ask about gender. They know that every rule has exceptions and that it could be rude.’

His words revealed that he had encountered countless uncultured ruffians until now.

He said there were even those who tried to strip him to see his gender, despite his indistinct Adam’s apple.

‘The important thing is confidence. If you act like nothing is wrong, the other person is more likely to think, “I guess that’s how it is,” and move on. Humans are simpler than you think.’

He adjusted the fit of Gloria’s slightly oversized clothes and smiled obliquely.

‘But if someone does pick a fight, just insist. By the time they’re asking, you’ll already look like the wronged party.’

Now in his early thirties, he was both a teacher and a life mentor to Gloria. So she quietly nodded at this advice.

“I understand.”

As the conversation concluded, Gloria and Peter sat back down in front of their respective paintings. Peter, who was quite popular among commoner artists, always had deadlines big and small. In addition to preparing for an upcoming gallery exhibition, he needed more than one body.

Gloria was working on refining Dale’s face that she had enthusiastically explained and drawn for Peter last time.

And she thought again. With her mind calmer now, Peter’s words made sense.

It was only their second meeting. It was ridiculous to be so flustered just because he smiled once, like a teenage girl. She had already made enough of a fuss.

Gloria looked down at her left hand, blackened with graphite.

‘All left-handed people are stubborn.’

‘I think it’s a necessary virtue in life.’

Even her activity name J was derived from her original name. Because it sounded similar to ‘Jae-hee.’ It was a clever trick.

She wanted to fulfill her dream of being an artist that she couldn’t achieve in her previous life, even like this. She hoped that even if ‘Jae-hee’ couldn’t be, paintings recorded as ‘J’ would remain somewhere.

Kang Jae-hee was stubborn and greedy.

The fact that she couldn’t give up painting even as her family fortunes declined proved that.

Fortunately, since ‘Gloria’ came from a wealthy family, she could focus solely on painting for half a year without distraction. She had been lucky so far, but.

‘What if things go terribly wrong?’