Chapter 24

“In fact, there are quite a few occasions to draw the n*ked body.”

“Really? Are there people who have their portraits painted while undressed?”

As Lionel’s innocent questions continued, Clarette couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“Of course not, Your Grace. When painting a portrait, the model usually stands before the artist dressed in a way that best represents themselves.”

“Then, when do artists actually paint n*ked people?”

“Mostly when painting mythological scenes.”

Lionel was unfamiliar with this concept. After pondering for a moment, he asked,

“So, ‘mythological scenes’ means depicting a scene from a myth?”

“Yes, that’s right. The painting you saw in my atelier last time was also a scene from a myth. It’s still unfinished though…”

As Clarette’s words trailed off, Lionel turned his gaze away from the auction stage to look at her. Clarette met his eyes directly, as if asking him again for an answer to that day’s question.

“Clarette.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Had her question reached him? Lionel, now with his smile gone, spoke with careful seriousness.

“You asked me before what I want from you.”

As she quietly nodded, he gazed into her green eyes and said,

“Before I give you my answer, there’s something I want to confirm.”

“Please, go ahead.”

He lowered his voice so no one nearby could hear and asked,

“Why do you insist on painting mythological scenes? It must be difficult to find a n*de model, so why go through all that trouble?”

It was a question Clarette had heard countless times. Like the time she shared her aspirations with her father, she answered honestly, her expression earnest.

“Your Grace, I want to reach the highest place.”

Clarette’s gaze shifted to the wall beyond the auction stage. She was looking at the large paintings just below the ceiling.

The moment Lionel followed her gaze, he suddenly realized something he hadn’t noticed before.

In the gallery filled with paintings, those hung at the highest points were all mythological scenes. Only the grand and outstanding works depicting the stories of gods occupied that place.

To look at them, one had no choice but to look up—to the highest position.

“If you watch the auction, you’ll see. The pieces that attract the most attention, the ones that sell for the highest prices, are all mythological scenes.”

Just then, the painting of the archer was sold for twenty thousand gold. After a fierce bidding war, people applauded the lady who won it.

Watching their reactions, Lionel finally realized that painting was also part of a myth.

“But why are mythological paintings considered more impressive? There are plenty of excellent portraits, aren’t there?”

‘Like your portrait hanging in the Rosenta Art Museum.’ 

As Lionel thought this, Clarette nodded slowly.

“That’s true, there’s a way to be recognized through portraiture. But I want to paint mythological scenes. They allow for expressions of figures just as detailed as portraits, with more variety in subjects and composition, and most importantly… the themes are freer.”

“Themes? For example?”

“Do you remember Castion’s ‘Spring’?”

That was the sculpture Clarette had first sketched in his gallery. The touching marble statue of lovers kissing.

“…Don’t tell me, that was also a scene from a myth?”

As Lionel suddenly realized, Clarette smiled gently.

“That’s right. It was a work expressing love achieved after hardship. Love between a god and a human.”

She murmured in a contemplative tone,

“I want to create works like that too. Not just capturing the person before me, but conveying deeper, broader themes.”

Lionel stared at Clarette’s determined profile. He could now clearly understand the source of her resolute character, her unwavering nature, and her almost stubborn obsession with painting.

Clarette Sollier was a born artist. She was a woman who couldn’t live without painting what she truly desired. Poverty, prejudice, misunderstanding, and gossip would never truly stop her.

It was a life completely different from Lionel’s own. He looked up at the mythological paintings in the gallery, which he had never really paid attention to before.

The figures in those paintings conveyed a wide range of emotions. Though they were stories of gods, they all seemed so serious and earnest.

Lionel had never lived like Clarette. He’d never had a grand dream he wasn’t sure he’d ever reach, nor had he ever wanted to create something truly his own.

For him, life was simply about getting through whatever came his way. Overcoming crises, adapting whenever his place grew smaller.

Meanwhile, Clarette glanced at Lionel, who had suddenly fallen silent. She was worried by his quietness after all his earlier questions.

Maybe she’d explained too much? After all, Duke Valentin probably wasn’t that interested in art.

“Your Grace, if I’ve made things boring for you…”

“No, not at all.”

He shook his head lightly, a faint smile returning to his face. He looked as if he’d realized something.

“So that’s why you needed a n*de model. In the end, it was because you wanted to paint mythological scenes.”

“That’s right.”

“Then, if you were to include me in the subject you want to paint, what role would you give me?”

Clarette quietly caught her breath. He was asking a truly model-like question.

“I haven’t decided yet which god I’d use you as a model for. That will probably…”

Recalling the moment she’d held his arm, she continued cautiously,

“I think I’ll have to see your body in person, Your Grace… before I can decide.”

She spoke as calmly as she could, but saying out loud what she’d only thought was awkward. Lionel stared at Clarette’s flushed cheeks and nervous eyes.

This was the opportunity.

“Clarette, then tonight…”

He was about to make the proposal he’d long considered.

“Duke Valentin! There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

At the familiar voice, Lionel immediately stopped and turned. The one speaking to him was Richard Crowley.

Of all times, now.

“…You’re early, Earl Crowley.”

“Early? The auction’s already gone through several pieces.”

Because they were in a public setting, the two addressed each other by title rather than name. Richard glanced at Clarette, who was sitting with Lionel.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. May I ask for an introduction?”

If anyone else had asked, Lionel would have gladly introduced her. But something about Richard’s request felt uncomfortable. He replied stiffly, not hiding his reluctance.

“This is Clarette Sollier. She’s our family’s resident artist.”

“Ah, so that’s why you’re having such a serious discussion. It’s good to have someone knowledgeable about art by your side.”

Richard pretended not to know her, even though he clearly did. He bowed politely to Clarette, meeting her gaze.

“I am Duke Valentin’s cousin, Earl Crowley. I’ve only seen you in paintings at the museum, but seeing you in person, you are truly beautiful.”

“Thank you, Your Lordship.”

Clarette exchanged the customary greeting. In truth, she wanted Earl Crowley to leave so she could finish her conversation with Duke Valentin—especially about tonight’s plans.

But she was just a powerless resident artist. As she fell silent, watching for cues, Richard cheerfully spoke to Lionel, who looked visibly uncomfortable.

“The winning bids are impressive, Your Grace. The total will easily reach three hundred thousand gold.”

“It seems things are going smoothly so far. But let’s save money talk for later. It’s not a topic for the guests.”

Without changing his expression, Richard glanced at Clarette, who was sitting quietly. She clearly knew nothing about the Valentin family’s debts.

Meanwhile, Lionel started a new topic to break his cousin’s gaze at Clarette.

“There’ll be more partying after the banquet, so if it’s important, let’s discuss it then. For now…”

“Ah, of course. I also have someone I’d like to introduce to you, Your Grace.”

There was no reason to refuse. As Lionel waited in silence, Richard gestured toward the entrance of the gallery.

Answering his signal, a woman approached.