Chapter 105

Lionel set down the easel and canvas he had brought for Clarette on a flat spot.

“In the distant past, there must have been a village in these woods. The church is pretty large.”

“If Saint Dimitri really existed, that is. Otherwise, it might have just been a village hall.”

Either way, the crumbling wall Clarette had found matched perfectly with the atmosphere Lionel had been seeking. The ruins, long destroyed, appeared lonely yet calm.

“How should I pose?”

“However you like. This isn’t a mythological painting—it’s a portrait of Lionel de Valentin.”

The range of choices was wide. Lionel hesitated for a moment, then sat against the shaded wall.

Clarette stared at him, sitting comfortably with one leg bent.

“It looks like you’re resting between battles.”

“Right. I don’t want to leave a harsh scene, like shooting a gun or something.”

Clarette quickly understood the mood Lionel wanted for this project. As she picked up her charcoal and began sketching, Lionel—relaxed in his blue uniform, leaning against the wall—spoke up as if remembering something.

“By the way, there was good news before we came here. Remember my friend Isaac from Tivenny?”

“Of course. Ah, maybe…”

Clarette caught on early, and Lionel smiled brightly.

“Yes, the baby was born. Safe and healthy.”

“Really? That’s wonderful. Is Fiona alright too?”

“Yes, both mother and child. It’s a girl. Isaac was so excited about his daughter, you could tell from the letter.”

Clarette smiled fondly, recalling their time in Tivenny. Lionel continued gently,

“So, he asked me to name the baby.”

“Huh? Then you’ll be her godfather?”

“I suppose so. I never expected him to ask me.”

Lionel spoke awkwardly, but he didn’t seem displeased. Clarette looked at him with eager eyes.

“Do you have a name in mind?”

“I’ve settled on one, but I wanted your approval before replying.”

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

Lionel cleared his throat, a bit nervous.

“‘Elisia.’ Elisia Hunt. How does it sound?”

Clarette repeated the name a few times, seriously pondering it, then nodded.

“Elisia is a lovely name. Did you take it from the goddess of wind, Elisis?”

“That’s right. Their family often sails, so I borrowed the goddess’s name. Is it too obvious?”

“No, it’s pretty. And it carries a meaning of blessing. I approve.”

Clarette’s strong affirmation finally reassured Lionel. He thought he should reply quickly and said,

“According to the letter, they’ll buy a house and get married before winter, assuming our business keeps earning steadily.”

“That’ll happen. I use Valentin’s paints myself. Especially ‘Clarette’—it’s so useful. I plan to use lots of it for this portrait.”

Clarette blushed mentioning the color named after herself. Lionel gazed into her beautiful green eyes and asked,

“Will you come to the wedding with me? It’ll probably be held in Tivenny.”

“Yes, I’d love to. I already miss it—it was such a beautiful city.”

“Right, truly.”

Lionel murmured, recalling Clarette by the seaside.

“It was beautiful.”

His eyes, lost in thought, sparkled thoughtfully. Clarette liked that expression. She kept sketching and asked him,

“Lionel, you said you originally didn’t intend to inherit the dukedom.”

“I didn’t.”

“What about family?”

Lionel looked at her curiously, wondering about her intent. Before he could ask, ‘Are you proposing?’ Clarette quickly added,

“I often overheard my father’s students talking. Men usually want daughters, and want two kids. So I wondered about you…”

Realizing what she’d just said, Clarette worried Lionel would tease her with, ‘Are you going to have them for me?’

But fortunately, he spoke without joking, quietly murmuring,

“Well, family… I’ve never thought about it.”

“Huh? Not marriage, not children?”

“No. Especially when I was in the army…”

Lionel paused, recalling old times, then spoke cautiously.

“Back then, I had nowhere to return to, so I often stood at the very front lines. It wouldn’t have been strange if I died at any time. Many of my classmates from the Military Academy, and other comrades, died.”

He thought of the wars still fought at the Rosenta border. The empire’s border, which had threatened to swallow the continent, had only seen local skirmishes for years now.

Lionel remembered those who died there.

“Of course, all the fallen are great and honorable. But the misery of the families left behind can’t be compensated. Widows, fatherless children… all are pitiful.”

Recalling the past, he turned his gaze to Clarette. His next words were honest, as if confessing a deeply hidden feeling.

“I never wanted to make my family suffer that way.”

Clarette stopped moving her charcoal. She couldn’t reply and just stared into Lionel’s blue eyes.

She didn’t even think of capturing his expression in her drawing. Simply meeting his gaze made time seem to slow. She stared quietly at the unfamiliar emotion on Lionel’s face.

For the first time, Clarette sensed loneliness from him.

She thought about how long Lionel had been alone.

From birth until now, he had never had a real family. Everyone passed through his life.

The servants who cared for him as a child in the townhouse, classmates from the Military Academy, women he spent nights with, comrades who fell at his feet.

No one stayed by Lionel’s side until the end. Even Clarette herself, realizing this, thought she’d have to leave him someday.

Unable to look at Lionel any longer, Clarette turned her gaze to the canvas.

She picked up the charcoal again, but couldn’t draw anything. She stared intently at the blurry figure in her sketch.

She wanted to draw herself beside him. It was a strange desire.

She’d never wanted to paint herself before.

“Clarette.”

Startled by Lionel calling her, she turned her head. He was smiling faintly as usual, unaware of her thoughts.

“I heard people sometimes include their own items in portraits. Is that true?”

“Yes, it is. They add items that symbolize themselves or things they treasure.”

“Then can I add a few things?”

“Sure. What will you use?”

Lionel broke his pose and approached her. He rummaged through his belongings piled next to the easel.

First, he picked up a long rifle. Different from a hunting gun, it was the type used in the military. That was expected.

But then, seeing what he picked up next, Clarette’s green eyes widened.

“Lionel, what’s that?”

“This is a dog tag.”

Lionel held four silver-gray metal tag necklaces. He showed Clarette the engraved details.

“It’s got information like serial number and name. Every soldier must carry one.”

Clarette slowly read the names on the tags. Each was a different surname and age. She looked up, and Lionel added,

“They had no family. So I inherited them, as proof they existed.”

“…They all died in battle, then.”

“Yes, right beside me.”