Chapter 49

“Your Grace, I may not know the market price for every pigment, but… most of these simply follow the cost of raw materials.”

Clarette pointed this out carefully, but Lionel received her words with calm indifference.

“Yes, I’ve heard that. Miss Bouvier gave me a thorough lecture.”

“Then Your Grace, you must know you can’t make a fortune from this. It’s hard to raise prices in the middle.”

Clarette’s observation was perfectly correct. Lionel was all the more impressed and agreed with her.

“That’s right, just as you say. Even if you collect and sell these, you’d only make a modest profit. To really make money, you’d have to take something that only comes from the southern tip of the Empire and sell it at the northern tip, or ship it across the distant sea.”

“Like trading, then. But I’ve heard that’s not easy, either. So many things get damaged during transport, so even if you sell it for a high price, there’s not much left over.”

“What if it didn’t get damaged, and you could bring it far away just as it is?”

“Pardon?”

At the Duke’s words, Clarette tilted her head. Was there a pigment jar that didn’t break and preserved well? There was no such thing in the world.

But Lionel continued cheerfully in front of her puzzled face.

“Imagine it, Clarette. What if you could just buy this purple pigment you traveled with your father to get, right at the Moerven art dealer?”

“That would be wonderful. I’d definitely buy at least one jar. But the farther it is from the place of origin, the higher the price, so I’d need to save a lot of money….”

“What if the price was the same here as it is at the place of origin?”

For a moment, Clarette was at a loss for words and stared at the Duke. Had he lost touch with reality, crushed by his enormous debt? Why did he keep making impossible assumptions?

But the Duke’s gaze waiting for her answer was calm and relaxed, just like when he’d casually made that bold proposal to use her as his n*de model.

So Clarette answered his question with sincerity.

“If rare materials that only come from far away could always be bought at a reasonable price, they would sell extremely well. I’d buy them right away, and every artist in the world would have to open their wallets.”

Her answer gave Lionel great confidence. He looked at Clarette with a serious gaze, without a hint of playfulness, and said,

“Thank you, Clarette. Thanks to you, I feel more confident.”

“Hmm, was there ever a time when you lacked confidence, Your Grace?”

Clarette replied half-joking, half-serious, and Lionel ended up laughing. She smiled too, feeling good.

As if he couldn’t stand how lovely she was, the Duke gently pulled Clarette’s arm and kissed her on the forehead. With a brief sound, he parted his lips and looked down at Clarette, who was startled.

Looking at her cheeks quickly turning red, the Duke whispered softly,

“It’s a shame. Since you decided to rest from painting today.”

Clarette didn’t know how to respond and simply caught her breath quietly. What had just happened was outside their contract. A kiss on the forehead.

Of course, it wasn’t necessarily s*xual in meaning—close relatives sometimes express affection that way….

“Clarette, I have a favor to ask.”

“Yes.”

What would he ask for this time? Clarette looked up at the Duke, tense.

This time, his request was completely unexpected.

“When you make paint today, could you make a little for me too? Pure white, just enough for one swipe with that knife.”

“Of course, that’s simple… but what will you use the paint for, Your Grace?”

Had posing as a model made him want to try painting? Her curiosity showed, and the Duke smiled as if hiding a delightful secret.

“You’ll find out tomorrow. I’ll come for what I asked for tomorrow morning.”

Before leaving the studio, the Duke gazed at her intently. Clarette quickly realized he wanted to kiss somewhere other than her forehead.

But Lionel only gently smoothed her stray hair and turned away.

“See you tomorrow, Clarette. Don’t overwork yourself today.”

* * *

Doris Markrel was awestruck by the elegant yet grand splendor of the Valentin ducal residence, which he was seeing for the very first time. Having only known the scenery of the tin mine and village where he was born and raised, the ducal mansion was like another world to Doris.

“Oh, our domain’s greatest inventor has arrived.”

After getting out of the carriage, the Duke approached and smiled upon seeing Doris, who was still stunned. Oliver, who was much more bothered by the shabby, mining-country bumpkin than yesterday’s commoner guests, was the exact opposite of the Duke.

Like someone showing off his success to a childhood friend, Lionel greeted Doris with a somewhat smug face.

“So, now you see for yourself? I really am a Duke.”

“Ugh, it’s true. I thought you’d be rich, but you’re actually a Duke….”

Doris couldn’t hide his surprise at seeing him naturally act as the owner of the house.

Oliver hoped this simpleton wouldn’t enter the main residence, and in the end, his wish came true.

“Come this way, Doris. Our business is in the annex.”

“The annex? You mean there’s more than one house?”

“They’re all mine, just two buildings. See that land with the flower garden? That’s called the ‘rear garden’.”

“Oh, the rear garden….”

The Duke showed Doris around the house with friendly pride, letting him marvel at everything. Watching their distant figures, Oliver was swept up in complicated feelings.

He wondered if it was right for the master of the Valentin family to act like this, but even the strict butler had to admire the Duke’s remarkable ability to connect with people regardless of status.

* * *

Clarette was waiting for the Duke in her studio as promised. When he opened the door and entered, she was surprised and pleased to see Doris with him.

“Mr. Markrel! You really did come to the ducal residence. It must have been far, riding the carriage since morning. You must be tired.”

Clarette greeted him warmly, like a hostess, and Doris was moved, bowing his head.

“Thank you. But Lady, you really are the Duchess. I had no idea, and I dreamed in vain….”

“No, Mr. Markrel. I’m just a painter who came to the Duchy to work. I’m not a noble, just a commoner.”

Clarette quickly cleared up the misunderstanding, and Lionel was both amazed and a little disappointed. Even if it was a mistake, he thought she would hesitate for at least a second. He felt a subtle regret.

“Oh? So you and the Duke aren’t connected at all? Then maybe I have a chance….”

“Doris, stop your nonsense and show us what you brought.”

Lionel cut him off coldly and stepped between Clarette and Doris.

Doris came to his senses, put down the bundle he’d been carrying, and glanced at Lionel.

“But Your Grace, you’ll really pay three times if I made it right? That gold coin….”

“Of course, would I lie to a subject?”

Finally excited, Doris opened his bag and began pulling things out. What he’d brought were large cylindrical tubes of various sizes.

All were made of tin, thin gray metal tubes.

“Oh, one’s a bit dented. I tried to make them as thin as paper….”

He had processed the tin into paper-thin tubes, just as the Duke had ordered. Clarette carefully observed the various long tubes Doris laid out on the floor.

But no matter how closely she looked, they only seemed like slightly larger straws. If they’d been made of a harder metal, they might have worked as self-defense weapons.

‘Did His Grace just want to give Mr. Markrel money?’

If Doris received charity, it might hurt his pride, so perhaps the Duke had intentionally designed it so Doris could happily take the money. Yes, that must be it.

That was Clarette’s final conclusion.

In other words, the tin tubes Doris brought seemed utterly useless.

But the Duke was smiling as he looked down at the pile of junk.