Chapter 123

Lionel’s voice in Clarette’s ear was gentle and sweet. Yet his determination to hold her was firm; no matter how much she pushed, he didn’t budge.

“Lionel, are you really drunk? How much did you drink? You’re usually strong with alcohol.”

“Mm, about two bottles?”

Two bottles? Didn’t he drink much more than that in Tivenny? Maybe he got drunk quickly because he was tired from visiting the palace today.

As Clarette hesitated in suspicion, Lionel hugged her tighter, rubbing his cheek against hers and pressing his body closer.

“Clarette, quickly. Hug me.”

“I’m already… You’re suffocating me!”

Clarette coughed, but Lionel laughed playfully and didn’t let go. Eventually, Clarette surrendered first.

“All right, all right, let’s at least move to the bed. Doing this near the door makes me nervous, someone might hear us in the hallway.”

As soon as Clarette gave permission, Lionel immediately let go and led her to the bed. Even as she was dragged along, Clarette made it clear,

“Going to the bed doesn’t mean I want to do anything. I just meant we should sit.”

“Did you finish your painting?”

No answer. Clarette glared at Lionel, who was skillfully changing the subject, and replied,

“Yes, I finished the minimum work. I’ll continue the rest tomorrow. So now…”

“So now you can play with me.”

Lionel pulled her hand, seating her on the bed, then naturally wrapped his arm around her and gently pushed her down. The movement was so smooth that Clarette was dumbfounded even as it happened.

“Lionel!”

“Clarette, you need to take off your shoes before bed. And your socks. And your skirt.”

Lionel gently pinned her so she couldn’t get up, reaching for her ankles. Her shoes and socks were removed in an instant.

Then his hand slipped inside her skirt, and she quickly grabbed his hand and shook her head.

“No, I said I’m just going to sleep!”

“You’re going to sleep like this?”

“Well, no…”

“You’ll take it off anyway.”

Lionel lightly kissed Clarette’s cheek and pressed his hand again. He gently brushed up her soft thigh, easily pushing aside her resistance.

“It’s the same whether you take it off or I do.”

“No, it’s… different… it’s different…”

His hand slowly moved inside her skirt, not allowing her to refuse. By the time Clarette pulled her legs together, it was already too late.

“Lionel, wait, stop joking…”

“I’m serious.”

Lionel lightly climbed on top of her, putting his weight down.

With his hand constantly moving below, Clarette’s breath grew labored. When her lips parted, Lionel pressed his lips to hers without hesitation, like biting into ripe fruit.

His tongue entered softly, scattering her thoughts, his warm breath and body heat enveloping her. Clarette began to crumble.

How could she resist something so pleasant?

‘Ah… I don’t care anymore. Tomorrow will work out somehow.’

She, who had always pushed him away, finally half gave up and wrapped her arms around Lionel’s neck. His breath, laughing between their pressed lips, flowed out.

Soon Lionel lifted his face, a happy smile spreading across it. Clarette, defeated, blushed and looked up at him.

Lionel’s eyes, gazing down tenderly, shone as clear as ever. There was no sign of drunken haze, only a straight, vivid gaze.

Clarette was so flustered she snorted.

“I knew it. You’re not drunk at all, are you? You’re completely sober.”

“No, I’m really drunk. Look.”

Lionel gently pulled down her disheveled top and pressed his lips to her soft skin. When Clarette shivered at the unexpected touch, his kisses and laughing breath met her sensitive skin.

“I keep doing this because I’m drunk, can’t help myself.”

“Lionel, you really…”

Clarette slapped his shoulder in mock reproach, and he mischievously nipped her neck in response. The tickling attack finally made Clarette burst out laughing.

Lionel only then lifted his head with a satisfied expression. She could never win this contest.

She liked him too much to harshly push away such sweet temptation.

“Why did you go so far to fool me? Pretending to be drunk.”

“To get your sympathy. If I was sober, you wouldn’t let me in.”

That was probably true. As Clarette silently agreed, Lionel added,

“And you lied to me today, too.”

“What? What did I lie about…”

“See, Clarette? Something definitely happened with Richard today, but you’re hiding it from me.”

Lionel was quite persistent today. Clarette hesitated, feeling his hand gently caress her.

“Are you that curious about what I talked about with Earl Crowley?”

“Of course. I want to know everything about you.”

“Even if I don’t want to tell you, you really want to hear?”

“Why don’t you want to tell me?”

“Because…”

It was a story about Estelle’s tragedy.

For you, who lost your mother too early, I want to restore her portrait no matter what.

“…I lost confidence in my painting.”

Lionel furrowed his brow as if he’d heard something serious.

“What do you mean? Did Richard criticize your work?”

“No, it’s not that… He gave me a burden. So I feel pressured. I have to do better, but I keep falling short.”

“I don’t understand… Who is Richard to give advice about your painting?”

While Lionel misunderstood, Clarette sighed and spoke.

“I know being anxious isn’t the answer. But I can’t help it. No matter what I do, my skills won’t improve overnight…”

Lionel quietly looked into her tired eyes.

“It’s not easy to ignore Richard’s words, even if I tell you to. You’re so serious about your art.”

Clarette nodded quietly.

It was a problem she could never ignore. Her worries were tied to Lionel’s mother.

Then, Lionel gently cupped Clarette’s cheek and looked at her. Sensing he still had something to say, she lifted her eyes.

When their gazes met, Lionel spoke softly.

“But Clarette, don’t carry it all alone. I’m always on your side. No matter what others say, I love your art. I’ve loved it ever since I first saw it.”

“…Are you confessing all of a sudden?”

“Yes, I am.”

Lionel’s lips curved into a gentle smile. He continued, full of affection.

“So be confident. You’re making history—first female artist invited to the cathedral for the festival, first woman with a painting in Moerven Art Museum, first woman to paint a duke’s portrait… All those firsts are yours.”

It was dazzling when she thought about it. As Clarette turned her head shyly, Lionel gently held her chin as if he still had more to say.

“And you even made me, a Duke, a n*de model. That was a first for me.”

“Lionel, you were a wonderful model. It’s hard to believe you had no experience…”

“No, it was my first time as a n*de model.”

Lionel smiled awkwardly and confessed,

“It was the first time I undressed in front of a woman.”

He recalled the moment he first took off his clothes in Clarette’s studio.

“Clarette, you have no idea how desperately I wanted…”

“What did you want?”

Lionel remembered her sketching him.

Her black hair tightly pinned, her straight white neck, pursed lips. The silence filled only by the sound of charcoal.

Her deep green eyes, as if trying to capture his body and soul, that intense gaze.

A beautiful, noble woman.

“Please, fall for me.”