Chapter 2.3

Contrary to Theodore’s worries, Liz had become quite accustomed to Winchester.  

After studying etiquette with Valentine, Martha would dress and groom Liz.  

Thanks to this, her once rough hands became soft, and her hair shone with luster.  

Now, the only concern was Jenny.

“Oh, well, I went home a while ago and left it there, you know?”

Liz called Jenny early in the morning to ask for her cosmetics back.  

But as expected, Jenny shamelessly feigned ignorance.  

Liz’s expression hardened as she sat at the desk.

“…Jenny.”

Jenny approached Liz and gently stroked her shoulder.

“It’s awkward to use vacation time, you know. You understand, right?”

Jenny’s tone was smooth.  

But Liz could sense Jenny’s intentions from the subtly shortened end of her words.

“Let’s not be too harsh among maids. I’ll definitely… on my next vacation day….”  

“Rodion Street, No. 2. Your home, it’s less than two hours by carriage, isn’t it?”

Jenny’s cheerful expression stiffened.

“You don’t need to use vacation time. Just get an outing permit and bring it.”

Liz spoke firmly and removed Jenny’s hand from her shoulder.  

Jenny’s gaze wavered.

“Like you said, I know at least that much.”

Jenny hesitated and mumbled while cautiously watching Liz.

“Ah, today’s a busy day… If I’m absent, the others… uh… Martha won’t issue it….”

There was nothing straightforward in that mumbling.  

It was a distinctly passive-aggressive attitude.  

But Liz asked without faltering.

“Then should I speak to Martha?”

At those words, Jenny flinched.  

Of course, Liz could directly issue an outing permit in Winchester’s name.

‘But I’m still concerned about leaving a record.’

Liz strengthened her gaze and spoke clearly to hide her inner thoughts.

“If you leave right now, it won’t affect the afternoon duties.”  

“Ha….”

Jenny sighed openly. But Liz smiled brightly.

“Then I’ll wait.”

Liz turned her gaze to the book she was reading.  

Jenny glared at Liz for a while before leaving the room without a word.  

The door closed with a thud.

“Haaa….”

Only then did Liz sigh deeply and slump over the desk.  

Her energy was drained. As she lowered her gaze under the desk, her knees were still trembling.  

Liz pressed her legs firmly to stop the trembling.

‘At least it didn’t show.’

Liz muttered inwardly.  

She couldn’t predict how Jenny would behave in the future.  

But for now, it seemed enough to warn her and watch.  

As the tension eased, her mind became blank.  

The midday sunlight warmly heated the back of Liz’s head.  

Should I close my eyes for a moment?  

Liz pushed the notes she had diligently organized forward and fell into a doze.  

Much time had passed.

Suddenly, there was a rustling sound amidst the music.

“Um….”

Liz murmured softly. Following that, a sweet scent wafted.

‘Is it already teatime….’

Martha often brought snacks, telling her to take it easy.

‘But did I leave the music playing?’

Liz’s eyelids flickered open.  

In front of Liz was not scones and cream tea, but Valentine Winchester.

“Duke… no, Valentine?”

Liz, slightly flustered, called out to him.  

In his hand was Liz’s notebook.

“Have I disturbed your sleep?”

He raised his head to look at Liz.  

Liz straightened her back and sat up with an embarrassed expression.

“I’m sorry. You should have woken me….”  

“No, I was curious about how you were studying.”

He answered while flipping through Liz’s notebook with his left hand.

“Oh, that…”

Liz’s face blushed slightly with embarrassment.

‘At least I didn’t write any complaints about Valentine.’

Although it wasn’t something she couldn’t show him, she felt shy for some reason.  

Valentine, who was looking at the notebook with interest, asked.

“Did you draw these pictures yourself?”

Valentine pointed to a sketch Liz had made of a woman greeting.  

Next to it, Liz had written an explanation.

Don’t raise your chin too much!

“Oh, yes, just roughly… it’s easier to memorize this way.”

Liz awkwardly mumbled.  

Drawing and organizing notes was a habit of Liz’s.  

Friends often borrowed Liz’s notebooks to admire the pretty drawings.

“You have a talent for drawing.”  

“No!”

Liz shouted impulsively.  

Startled by her own voice, Liz quickly shut her mouth.  

Valentine’s face showed a hint of curiosity.  

Liz, who was shrinking and watching him, reached out her hand.

“I… I’m sorry. Please return it.”

Liz tugged at the notebook. But Valentine did not let go.  

Instead, he turned the pages, checking each of the other drawings Liz had made.

“Don’t misunderstand. It’s a compliment meaning it’s excellent.”

A compliment.  

She didn’t want to hear such compliments at this point.  

It was all over already.  

When her father went bankrupt, when she became a maid in Myra.  

But Valentine, unaware of Liz’s feelings, continued seriously.

“If you wish, I can support you in building your artistic skills. A teacher….”  

“No.”

Only after becoming Isabel Winchester, not Liz Garrett, would such talent attract interest.  

When she eventually returned to being Liz Garrett, it would just become a burden.  

Liz lowered her head and muttered softly.

“My skills are not good at all. They’re a mess.”

A strange silence filled the room.  

Liz knew. Her talent was not special.  

It was a mediocre talent, enough to receive moderate praise.  

A true genius was someone like her brother, and even he was now wandering the streets.  

So Liz’s ambiguous talent was not a blessing from God.  

It was something like a trap, too embarrassing to call a curse.  

If there really was a God,  at least He should have provided an environment where she could achieve her dreams, or at least strive for them.

“I understand.”

Valentine released the notebook.  

Even with that small rebound, Liz staggered weakly.  

Only then did she feel a late regret.  

Valentine probably said it without much thought. She had overreacted.  

Liz closed her eyes tightly, then opened them and smiled brightly.

“I was surprised. I didn’t expect someone like you, Duke, to praise such lowly drawings.”

Valentine did not respond.  

His expression seemed somewhat uncomfortable, as if he were choosing his words.  

After watching Liz for a moment, Valentine quietly closed the notebook.  

Was he displeased?  

A belated sense of shame washed over her. Liz lowered her head and secretly mocked herself.

‘Be honest, Liz Garrett.’

She had hoped he would deny using the word “lowly.”  

She wanted to cling.  

To the praise of the Duke of Winchester, known for his high standards, to that subtle expression.  

She wanted to place her hopes on it.  

Admitting that made her face flush.

“It’s fortunate. I have a request.”

“…Huh?”

Valentine tilted his head slightly as he spoke.

“Please draw a portrait of the Winchester couple.”  

“What? A portrait… a portrait?”

Liz’s eyes widened.

“What are you suddenly talking about? Are you saying I should be a model for a portrait with you, Duke, or do you mean I should….”

Liz swallowed her words.  

She was already embarrassed, wondering if she had dared to think something so ridiculous.  

But Valentine answered immediately.

“That’s right. I would like you to draw it yourself.”

Valentine’s words were exactly what Liz had thought of as the second possibility.

“You know about the custom of drawing portraits, don’t you?”

Of course, Liz knew well.  

It was the same for both commoners and nobles. Drawing a portrait was a tradition all newlyweds in Holt followed.  

But Liz was shocked.

“That’s ridiculous. Why would you ask me to draw something so important?”  

“I liked your skills.”

Valentine spoke calmly.  

Liz shook her head vigorously.

“That’s… no. I don’t think that’s right.”  

“What’s the reason?”

Liz bit her lip hard.  

She needed to think of a reason, a reason that would convince him.

“You, the noble Winchester wouldn’t be so poor as to have to make your wife draw a portrait, would you? It seems to lower the family’s dignity.”  

“Not at all. A first portrait drawn by a family member with artistic talent is more commemorative than any artist’s. Especially if it’s by the wife herself.”

At his words, Liz closed her mouth.  

Ordinary commoners wanted a commemorative portrait by a famous artist.  

But wealthy nobles who could hire such artists preferred portraits drawn by family members.  

Liz had heard such stories in passing.  

Valentine leaned back leisurely in his chair as he spoke.

“Unfortunately, there’s no one with innate talent in Winchester, so we’ve reserved a painting by Rosetta, the court painter….”

Rosetta Everett.  

Liz’s face unconsciously showed admiration.  

The Everett family had painted portraits for the Holt royal family for generations.  

Among them, Rosetta was called a unique genius.

“Did you cancel it?”

Liz asked with an unconsciously regretful expression.  

It would be wonderful to see how Rosetta held a pencil and sketched, even just once.  

But Valentine chuckled.

“You know best the reason why it had to be canceled, don’t you?”

His eyes were fixed on Liz’s face.