“A printing press…?”

Lumiere tilted her head in curiosity and examined the unfamiliar machine. She had never seen a printing press like this before.

‘It’s not a woodblock but a lithograph?’

There were several lithographic stones set up, and the colors of the paint around them were varied. Woodblock prints were usually black and white. She had never heard of a printing press that applied color like this.

‘What is this? Why do I have this…?’

She had read an article recently about the rapid development of commerce. Additionally, the world was said to be advancing brilliantly with scientific technology that seemed like magic.

But she never thought she would encounter such technological advancement in her own mansion, especially in her studio.

“I’d better not touch this for now.”

She didn’t want to accidentally break the unfamiliar machine. Looking at the printing press as if it were a monster, she took a step back.

‘How did this end up here? Should I ask Cindy?’

No, Cindy was more likely not to know.

The studio was her very personal space, and access to it was strictly controlled. The fact that this was placed in the studio suggested that it was probably one of her secret projects.

“Phew. It’s frustrating not knowing so much.”

As she thought this and looked around the studio, her eyes landed on a canvas covered with a cloth.

“This is… unfinished?”

Just before uncovering the canvas, Lumiere took a small breath. A subtle tension tightened her chest.

‘What kind of painting was I working on about two years ago? Would it be very different? Or the same?’

Thinking about facing her changed artwork made her hands sweat. With trembling hands, Lumiere slowly removed the clean white cloth.

“…Oh, it’s just a sketch that’s barely been started?”

She muttered in disappointment at the unfinished painting that seemed to have just started being colored.

‘It’s too rough to work on…’

As she thought this and lightly touched the rough surface of the dry canvas,

“……!”

With a flash of lightning, the painting on the canvas was revealed under the moonlight.

Boom!

A loud thunderclap was heard. Lumiere couldn’t tell if the sound was echoing in her head or coming from outside the window.

At that moment, a vivid scene, unlike anything she had ever seen in her dreams, struck her mind like a bolt of lightning.

“…Hah!”

Lumiere gasped for breath, clutching her chest.

Her whole body trembled, and her fingertips felt hot, as if it was urging her to paint immediately.

‘Why, why is this happening?’

An unspoken pressure weighed down on Lumiere.

It was as if someone was forcing a scene into her mind, urging her to paint it right away.

‘…Run! Run! Run…! Hurry, quickly!’

An unknown voice continuously whispered for her to run.

The sketch in her mind, which had been incomplete, spun around as a finished painting. It felt like her head would explode if she didn’t pour out this painting immediately.

Like someone being chased, Lumiere hurriedly found and donned an apron. She filled her palette and grabbed a brush in a rush.

‘I have to paint. Quickly, I have to paint this scene now.’

Her breathing quickened, and her hands trembled as the inspiration surged through her like a storm. Like a mad artist, the scene that filled her mind tormented her.

Her brush moved swiftly across the canvas.

Boom!

The thunderous sound struck Lumiere’s ears. As she raised her head abruptly, she realized she had been completely dazed.

“……”

Regaining her senses, Lumiere squinted and looked out the window.

In the darkness of dawn, she saw the flashing lightning. Under the flickering light, the painting she had been working on in a trance was revealed.

It was an unfamiliar place, an unfamiliar landscape.

Lumiere raised her trembling hand, still holding the brush, and looked at it blankly.

‘Why did I paint this?’

It felt like she had been possessed by a ghost. She dropped the brush, letting go of it, and took a deep breath. As soon as she put down the brush, her head began to ache.

“Phew, how much time has passed?”

Her eyes widened as she glanced at the clock.

“…It’s past four in the morning?”

That meant she had been painting for two hours straight without a break.

In the middle of this dark dawn!

Could it be that her artistic genius had blossomed dramatically due to the accident? Maybe even His Majesty the King would request her to paint a picture soon…

Laughing at her own absurd imagination, Lumiere shook her head and started tidying up. As she looked for a towel to wipe her hands, something familiar caught her eye.

“My diary!”

Considering that her initial purpose for coming to the studio was to find her diary, it was a rather late discovery. She quickly ran over and picked up the diary. It was a diary she had been using for over three years, covered with old goatskin.

‘No, it’s probably been about five years now?’

Thanks to the good leather, it didn’t look worn at all.

The slightly stained leather gave it a more dignified appearance.

As she untied the string wrapped around the diary, Lumiere suddenly felt something strange. The diary was too light.

“…It’s empty?”

It was peculiar.

Most of the pages in the diary were roughly torn out.

Frowning, Lumiere flipped through the few remaining pages.

The few blank pages fluttered by, reaching the last page.

There, quite a lot of words were scribbled messily like doodles.

Trust no one.
An old friend’s tea is good for the body.
You must escape.
Beware of the yellow flowers.
I’ll be alright. I’ll be alright.
…So thirsty. So thirsty, I feel like I’m dying.
Damn it, Tartien!
Ah, I really feel like I’m going to die of thirst.

‘…What on earth does this mean?’

This was undoubtedly her handwriting. But Lumiere had never written something so desperate before.

And this was supposed to be a diary.

A paper to list the day’s events or to confess her feelings. But these were just scribbles.

Scribbles that were somewhat eerie.

‘…Damn it, Tartien?’

Lumiere recalled what she had heard during the day. Did she say she went to Tartien to paint a portrait? Was this then written around that time?

Lumiere read the words on the page, almost as if trying to memorize every single one. Her eyes stopped at four-lettered word written in the corner of the paper.

Karl.

Unlike the other hastily scribbled words, these two letters were pressed down firmly.

It was clear this person was important.

‘Who is Karl?’

Who could it be? Who could make her heart pound just by seeing the name? On the last page filled with chaotic scribbles, she saw another set of words on the back.

Lumiere fully turned the last page and found the final sentence written on the back, frowning as she read it.

“You must not love him…”

At that moment,

Neigh!

With a loud thunderclap, the sharp sound of a horse’s neigh pierced through the cold rain.

Startled, Lumiere approached the window and looked down. Through the pouring rain, she saw a black carriage rushing in.

Narrowing her eyes in curiosity, she observed the carriage as its door suddenly opened, revealing a man impeccably dressed in a dark suit.

A man with bright, radiant golden eyes, a tall stature, and broad shoulders that seemed to be carved from moonlight.

His mere presence exuded a noble elegance unmatched by any man she had ever seen. As he dismounted the horse, he brushed his wet hair back with his hand, annoyed by the falling rain.

His delicate yet strong features, reminiscent of carved ivory, and his somewhat irritable golden eyes became visible.

At that moment,

Lumiere recalled the last sentence in the diary she hadn’t finished reading earlier.

You must not love him.

It seemed ‘he’ from the diary had arrived.