Chapter 110

‘But… swimming is for next summer…’

Listening to the distant sound of water, Clarette suddenly recalled the sound of waves she’d heard at the beach in Tivenny. She remembered Lionel’s calm footsteps following her across the sandy shore, and his quiet voice when she called his name.

<It’s all right now, Clarette. I’m no longer Captain Lionel, but Duke Valentin.>

‘Yes, because he’s Duke Valentin.’

Lionel needed an heir for his family. So he absolutely needed a Duchess.

Preferably, a noblewoman from a prestigious family who could easily cover his weakness as an illegitimate child.

Clarette got up and headed inside the house. It wasn’t because she was suddenly feeling troubled.

There was no one else here, so she had to take care of him. She needed to prepare a large towel and a change of clothes for Lionel after his swim.

It was definitely not because she wanted to avoid showing him her gloomy thoughts.

When Clarette came out with a big towel, Lionel was finishing his swim and climbing the wooden ladder attached to the dock. He smiled brightly as she handed him the thick bath towel.

“Thank you, Clarette. It would’ve been nice if you’d joined me. Are you afraid of water?”

“Yes, a little… I am.”

Clarette looked down at the deep lake. If she fell in, she would surely sink to the bottom, and then she would have to wait for Lionel to rescue her. There was no one else who could save her.

“Hey, Lionel.”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you like me?”

At the sudden question, Lionel paused as he picked up his clothes and looked at Clarette. She wasn’t looking at him, her gaze was turned toward the lake—as if she was afraid to hear his answer.

Lionel leisurely pulled on his trousers and asked,

“Did I hear that right? You’re asking why I like you, Clarette Sollier?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you asking all of a sudden?”

“I just got curious.”

There’s no such thing as ‘just’ in this world. Lionel put on his shirt and watched Clarette’s face closely.

Her eyes seemed deep in thought. Maybe it was the hot summer sunlight, but her slightly furrowed brows gave her a different impression than usual.

Somehow, she seemed uneasy.

“The reason I like you is…”

Lionel slowly buttoned his shirt as he spoke.

“Because you’re sincere, responsible, passionate enough to stake your life on your work, and you stick to your convictions.”

At his relaxed words, Clarette replied in a slightly sulky voice, as if telling him not to joke.

“Lionel, that’s my ideal type.”

“Then I guess my ideal type is the same.”

“That can’t be true.”

“Ah, actually, my ideal type has a few more conditions.”

“What are they?”

Clarette quietly squeezed the damp towel and waited for Lionel’s answer. He looked down at her and said,

“Long hair, pretty eyes, a calm voice, someone shy but brave enough to say what she wants, gentle and deeply considerate.”

Clarette was speechless at Lionel’s answer, as if he were observing and describing her right in front of him. Seeing her cheeks turn red with embarrassment and confusion, he continued in a low voice.

“Someone who comforts me, makes me feel at ease, covers my flaws, inspires my respect, makes me imagine a future when I used to live without thinking, and ultimately helps me grow.”

Isn’t that amazing?

As if asking her, a faint smile spread across Lionel’s face. He gently took Clarette’s hand and finished his confession.

“There is such a person in this world.”

Lionel’s eyes were full of certainty. In front of his honest and upright gaze, convinced she was that person, Clarette quietly caught her breath.

<You are the perfect woman for me.>

She had heard those words in Duke Valentin’s bedroom as well. Realizing this, Clarette’s heart raced, wondering if maybe she was part of the future Lionel envisioned.

Would they stand together at that southern sea next summer? And the year after, and the year after that?

“If it’s not enough, should I say more?”

When Clarette didn’t answer, Lionel whispered kindly. She quickly came to her senses and shook her head.

“No, it’s alright. I understand enough.”

As Clarette packed up and turned to leave, Lionel firmly held her hand and added,

“You have to come with me, Clarette. It’s a promise.”

“…Yes.”

She gripped his hand tightly and nodded.

“Let’s go to the sea together. When summer comes again.”

* * *

Leaving the woods took more preparation than arriving.

While Clarette packed up the painting supplies, Lionel stood nearby, admiring his unfinished n*de painting.

The God of Hope bound to the rock was painted in a very dynamic pose. The shading was more pronounced than in real life, so the figure’s muscles seemed to writhe, and the desolate background made the skin appear even paler.

Of course, since Lionel’s body was the model, the god’s physique in the painting was excellent, and each twisted muscle was imbued with powerful strength. But Lionel, the model, felt something was missing.

“Did you leave out the facial features on purpose? Are you planning to finish it back at the ducal residence?”

The face, Clarette’s favorite part of her first sketch, was still incomplete. At Lionel’s reasonable question, she answered while tying her bag strap.

“Yes, I’ll finish it at the ducal residence. But I won’t use your face.”

“What? Why not? Is my face not good enough?”

What’s wrong with my face? Are you thinking of using another model?

Seeing his immediate protest, Clarette hurried to reassure him.

“No, it’s not that you’re not good enough… It’s just that you’re too handsome.”

“Too handsome is a problem? What does that mean?”

“Lionel, the God of Hope is supposed to be ugly. Every mythology book says so. ‘He had a hooked nose like an eagle’s beak, and everyone hated his ugly face.’”

“Really? I didn’t know, never read that part.”

So he doesn’t know even the very beginning. Clarette sighed briefly and continued her explanation.

“Anyway, I’ll draw the twisted face for that body myself. I don’t need a model.”

“Really? You won’t use another model?”

“No. I’m good at faces, so there’s no need.”

Lionel looked visibly relieved at Clarette’s words. As she unfolded the brown paper she’d brought to wrap the canvas, Lionel glanced at his portrait and said,

“By the way, looking at this… it feels like I’ve become a historical figure.”

“Huh?”

While Clarette wrapped the n*de painting in paper, Lionel murmured,

“I mean the way you painted me. It’s like I exist not just here, but across all times in history. Of course, war has always been around, in any era.”

Clarette looked closely at Lionel in the painting. His uniform was mostly depicted in blue, but shaded black under the tree shadows.

So Lionel looked as if he were both participating in and commemorating war. Not just for the fallen soldiers at the rifle’s end, but for all war victims.

At the same time, he seemed like a figure from the distant past, gazing into the future from some battlefield centuries ago.

“…That’s true. Even though it’s you, it doesn’t look like a simple portrait.”

“You really transcended portraiture, Clarette. You put me in history.”

Lionel smiled at her. He was extremely pleased with his finished portrait. He wanted to display it proudly, not in the annex gallery, but somewhere prominent in the main residence.

Clarette Sollier’s signature on Duke Valentin’s first official portrait.

It was clear proof she had spent the summer with him here, and a lasting token of their unchanging memories.

* * *

Duke Valentin’s portrait ended up hanging on the wall of the grand staircase leading to the second floor in the main hall of the main residence. The painting surprised guests visiting the ducal residence in many ways.