Chapter 37

As soon as Lionel finished speaking, Clarette hurried to position herself in front of the easel. She wanted to capture his figure somewhere before it disappeared.

For practice, she began sketching his form not on canvas, but on white paper.

‘Even though it’s the first pose, it’s almost too perfect. I could turn this into a finished piece as is.’

Ah, how wonderful it would have been if she could draw well right from the start. Clarette bit her lip in regret and worked hard to determine the composition. The Duke’s posture was calm and stable, as if he had modeled for years.

Just where did his physical limits lie? If this was his first attempt, he could probably handle much more difficult poses. Perhaps he really could bring a scene from mythology to life in this world.

While she diligently traced his body with charcoal, Clarette’s heart raced. The male body she had studied in books and sculptures was quite different from the Duke’s. Strictly speaking, the body before her eyes was much more vivid and beautiful.

Clarette set the easel at an angle and kept glancing at the Duke. Her gaze slowly swept over his dignified arm and down to his relaxed fingertips.

‘There are quite a few calluses on his knuckles. Did he get those from handling guns?’

Clarette hadn’t seen many soldiers. She lived in the heart of the Valentin Duchy, where it was always safe. Wars were always fought on distant borders, only heard about in rumors.

‘Is it because he’s a soldier? Even in a relaxed pose, His Grace looks strong. There’s a peculiar discipline to him.’

His skin was smooth and clean for a man, but there were scattered scars across his body. Bullet grazes and what looked like stab wounds felt very unfamiliar to her.

‘If you only look at his body, he seems intimidating. But…’

Clarette glanced up at his face. Lionel kept his gaze fixed on her, almost as if he’d turned into a statue. When she finally looked at him, he raised the corners of his mouth as if he’d been waiting.

“So you’re finally looking at my face. I thought you’d only stare at my body.”

“Yes, I’m going to draw your face, too.”

“Didn’t you say you didn’t need a face model?”

“It would be a shame to skip it.”

“Why? Because I’m too handsome?”

Lionel smirked, teasing Clarette, expecting her to blush again.

But Clarette answered firmly, her face serious.

“Yes. Because you’re handsome, Your Grace.”

“……”

Lionel was at a loss for words at her confident reply.

Of course, other women had called him handsome many times before. But hearing it from Clarette felt strangely different.

Somehow, it was a little embarrassing…

“Your Grace, please keep your expression steady. Even if you get bored, don’t space out.”

“Oh, sorry.”

At her sharp remark, Lionel regained his composure. Since she was working so seriously, he needed to be serious too. Now wasn’t the time to get flustered over a single compliment.

“If you feel tired, let me know. If you overdo it from the start, you’ll get sore. I don’t want to lose my model in a day.”

“No, I’m fine. I feel like I could do this all night.”

“That’s impressive. You must be a natural.”

Clarette smiled in satisfaction, and Lionel almost relaxed again. He hadn’t realized how good it felt to receive genuine praise from her.

While Clarette continued sketching, Lionel wanted to hear more compliments, so he spoke first.

“Clarette, is this pose okay? If there’s anything I should fix, just tell me.”

“The pose is perfect. But you can relax your stomach. You don’t have to force your abs to stand out…”

“Relax? This is how I am normally.”

“Oh, really?”

Clarette looked away, embarrassed by Lionel’s puzzled expression. He laughed and boasted to her as if he’d caught her off guard.

“See, Clarette? Aren’t you underestimating me? I’ll have you know, I’m one of the Empire’s top boxers, and my riding skills are second to none…”

“Please keep your words brief, Your Grace. Every time you speak, your posture shifts a little.”

“…All right.”

At her casual request, Lionel obediently closed his mouth. While he quietly mulled over the compliments, Clarette had already finished the rough composition and started drawing the detailed outlines.

‘Just as it is, just as I see it, I want to put it here.’

Clarette carefully drew each line, wishing as if she were making a prayer. The working time had already passed thirty minutes, but fortunately, the Duke’s pose remained unchanged.

But she couldn’t keep him sitting for too long. She focused as much as she could, capturing every detail with intense concentration and imprinting it deep in her mind.

‘I feel like I could find a god who resembles His Grace. His face is gently handsome, but his body is truly masculine…’

The more she sketched, the more she felt drawn to the Duke’s appearance. His shoulders were nicely broad, his chest muscles excellent, and the shape of his legs ideal. Even the small muscles wrapping his ribs and waist formed beautiful curves, adding a sense of dynamism.

What pose should she ask for next? What godly role should she give him in the future? Clarette enjoyed this moment with the Duke before her eyes immensely.

‘I’m lucky. To have met someone like His Grace.’

Seeing the Duke’s reduced speech, as she had requested, Clarette smiled faintly. He was a man who had everything she needed.

Duke Valentin cheered her on as a painter, supported her financially, and even became her n*de model. Moreover, he was attractive enough to charm any woman, and his personality was relaxed and cheerful without any rough edges.

If he weren’t a Duke, if he were of the same status as her—

Would she have hoped for a different relationship?

‘No, that doesn’t make sense. He met me because he’s a Duke.’

Clarette nearly got lost in sweet fantasies but quickly pulled herself out. The reason they met was solely because he was Duke Valentin.

If he were Captain Lionel, the soldier, they would never have met. He would have been on the battlefield, and she would have been locked away in the Moerven atelier, painting endlessly.

‘No more silly thoughts. Be grateful for this situation. This is the ideal relationship: patron and painter, model and painter.’

With the Duke by her side, Clarette could always maintain her identity as a painter. He supported and encouraged her, helping her live as an artist.

‘I don’t want to lose His Grace. I want to stay close to him.’

While she drew, Clarette sorted out her feelings for him. She liked things as they were now. She wanted to keep just this distance, neither closer nor farther.

So she had no intention of becoming the Duke’s lover or mistress. He was a noble who needed to marry and continue his family, and she was a commoner who could live freely on her own.

If the Duke ever married and had children, she would have to remain his painter to stay by his side.

“That’s all for today. Thank you for your hard work, Your Grace.”

About an hour and a half after starting, Clarette finally put down the charcoal.

“Mmm, well done.”

As soon as the session ended, the Duke stretched and relaxed his body. Even for someone who had spent years in the army, modeling was tough work.

“How was it, Clarette? Was I helpful?”

But his voice was cheerful. Clarette smiled gently, unable to hide her joy.

“You were truly amazing, Your Grace. I loved it. Your body is much more impressive than the pictures in the books.”

“Really? You’re satisfied?”

“Yes, of course. Plus, Your Grace, your body is almost perfect in proportions, even aesthetically. Your features are distinct, your skin is so clean…”

“But I have quite a few scars. Is that okay? They can’t look good.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t include the scars in the painting.”

She spoke cheerfully, but the Duke seemed suddenly concerned about his scars. As Lionel began inspecting the scars on his forearms, Clarette praised him enthusiastically.

“That’s right, Your Grace, your pose was so steady. How do you manage so well on your first try?”

“There are times on the battlefield when you have to stay perfectly still while keeping watch. In emergencies, you have to hold your breath, sometimes for sniping. I guess I’ve gotten used to it.”

“You really are talented.”

As she continued to shower him with praise, Lionel scratched his nose, looking awkward.

“I didn’t expect you to like it this much. I’m glad I agreed to be your n*de model.”

“Of course, bodies like yours aren’t common, Your Grace.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

Lionel gazed into Clarette’s sparkling green eyes and murmured,

“I mean, I’m glad I was your first. If I imagine another man undressing in front of you like this… somehow, it makes me uncomfortable.”