Chapter 26

With a snort that seemed to say ‘how pathetic’, his light green eyes, which captured her, shone fiercely. He moved closer to Clarette, who was avoiding his gaze.

“It’s been three years since we met, so don’t act like we fought yesterday and broke up. We’re not the kind of people who can become strangers so easily.”

“Well. You were the one who distanced yourself first, Thiago.”

Clarette tried her best to remain calm, but it wasn’t easy. She took a moment to steady her breath so her voice wouldn’t tremble, then continued.

“You said you’d never see me again. Three years ago, on the day of my father’s funeral.”

Thiago did not deny it and nodded promptly.

“Back then, yes.”

“So you’re saying it’s different now?”

“That’s why I’m here. Clarette Sollier, to see you.”

“Why? After all this time?”

“There’s something I want to ask of you.”

Clarette looked at him suspiciously. Thiago, who had made a name for himself as a remarkable painter since his early twenties, had always been someone who lacked nothing. The only person he’d ever sincerely bowed his head to was his master, Arno Sollier.

For him to ask her for a favor? Clarette watched him warily, but Thiago continued without concern.

“Is there nowhere we can talk alone? I’d rather not have anyone eavesdrop.”

“…Follow me.”

Clarette led Thiago to a rarely used staircase. The only place free from other guests was the second floor of the ducal residence’s annex—her own space.

When Clarette opened the door to her studio, Thiago naturally followed her in and closed the door. In the enclosed room, filled with the scent of oil paints, the two faced each other again.

“Now tell me. What is it you want to ask of me?”

She spoke, but Thiago didn’t answer immediately, looking around the unfamiliar studio instead. He glanced at the empty easel and asked,

“What kind of painting did Duke Valentin commission from you? A portrait? Or a still life?”

“Neither.”

“Then is it a landscape? That’s a rare taste for a noble.”

Clarette’s plan to paint a mythological piece with the Duke as her model was an absolute secret. So she didn’t deny it further and pressed Thiago for his purpose.

“What the Duke asked me to paint is a secret. More importantly, I’d like to hear your reason for coming.”

“I have a place in the capital now, Clarette.”

It was an irrelevant answer. Clarette frowned, as if to ask what he was talking about, but Thiago calmly continued, still observing the studio.

“Marquis Xavier, a distant relative of His Majesty the Emperor, is sponsoring me. Not only do I receive a generous living allowance, I’ve also been given a townhouse in the capital. Spacious, clean, and quiet—a three-story house.”

“…So?”

“I want to bring you there.”

At this completely unexpected suggestion, Clarette’s lips parted slightly. She barely managed to compose herself and asked,

“Are you suddenly suggesting we live together?”

“Yes. Our relationship isn’t what it used to be, but…”

The two had never dated. Clarette had simply harbored a one-sided crush on Thiago since childhood.

Back then, he knew of her feelings but never pushed her away, letting her be. He took her shy expressions and longing gaze for granted.

But this time, Thiago made his stance clear.

“I don’t mean living together as lovers. It would be similar to your current situation at the ducal residence.”

“Why do you suddenly want to live with me? You left me long ago. Three years ago… even five years ago.”

Clarette clenched her fist, recalling memories she’d rather forget. Three years ago, after her father passed and she was left alone in an empty atelier; five years ago, when a portrait released to the public led people to mistake her for a model, not a painter.

Thiago, her first love, had never once stayed by her side.

“I know it’s hard for you to trust me. But everything’s different now.”

To her continued wariness, Thiago confessed in a tone tinged with desperation.

“Back then, I was only obsessed with escaping my master’s shadow. But now, my master is gone, and I’ve established my own place…”

For the first time, the light green eyes that had always shone coldly wavered a little. Thiago, as if afraid of rejection, spoke carefully.

“Won’t you leave here and live with me? We can work together in the same space, just like before.”

Thiago’s proposal was so earnest that Clarette wondered if she was dreaming. She remembered her childhood, sitting side by side with him at their easels, painting together.

But Clarette ultimately shook her head.

“Thiago, I really appreciate your offer…but I have to refuse.”

“Why?”

His voice was sharp as he asked again. Thiago glanced at the hem of her elegant dress.

“Have you already gotten used to life here? How much does the Duke cherish you?”

“It’s not because of the Duke. It’s because of our relationship.”

She quietly raised her head and looked at Thiago. The words she’d wanted to say for so long finally escaped her.

“The portrait you painted of me. It became too famous. No matter what I do, no matter what I paint, it’s not easy to surpass the reputation of that painting. If I live with you, I’ll hear that unwanted nickname even more often.”

“You’re saying you can’t be with me because of that painting? I really don’t understand.”

Thiago frowned and crossed his arms, speaking as if criticizing her.

“‘Flower in a Frame’, isn’t that an amazing title? You don’t realize it, but even noblewomen envy and covet that name. When I get portrait commissions, they all beg me to paint them more beautifully than you.”

“But Thiago, you have no idea how suffocating that name is. I never wanted to be known to the world that way. I’m a painter, not a model.”

“Don’t act like you’ve only suffered because of me. Surely you’ve benefited from that painting too? If not for it, Duke Valentin wouldn’t have kept you close.”

“The Duke is different.”

When Thiago mentioned the Duke, Clarette drew a firm line. She couldn’t let him misunderstand.

“The Duke doesn’t care about my nickname. He brought me to the ducal residence because of my art.”

“Ha, the Duke wants your painting? Don’t kid yourself, Clarette. He doesn’t understand anything about you. He’s lived his whole life in a different world from us.”

Thiago clicked his tongue, thinking Clarette was hopelessly naive.

“Until just a few months ago, he was living on the battlefield. He’s not even a proper noble, just a rootless bastard. His mind is probably filled with war, women, and money—what could someone like that know about art?”

“Then he can learn.”

Clarette did not back down an inch. Facing Thiago’s hesitation, she replied persistently, without the slightest doubt.

“If the Duke doesn’t know much about art, then I can help him learn. I can do that.”

Thiago was momentarily speechless before Clarette’s unwavering attitude. The Clarette he remembered was not like this. Her eyes were always on the canvas, lost in her work, immersed only in her paintings.

Yet now, she was defending Duke Valentin so passionately?

“Clarette, don’t tell me you…”

Just as Thiago began to speak in disbelief—

Knock, knock, knock. There was a sound at the studio door. Both turned to look, and a voice came from beyond.

“Clarette, are you in there?”

It was Duke Valentin. In the silence, Thiago looked at Clarette again. His gaze seemed to ask, ‘What will you do?’ Only then did she regain her composure and answer the Duke.

“Yes, Your Grace. Is there something you need?”

“I’d like you to come down now. The seat beside me is open.”

It seemed Marian Belvard and Earl Crowley had moved seats. Clarette wanted to return to his side.

But if she opened the door now…

“So he says.”

Thiago’s sarcastic voice made her hesitate. Before she could say anything, he strode to the door and opened it without warning.

Beyond the open door, Duke Valentin’s smiling face slowly faded.