Chapter 5

Clarette couldn’t help but wonder if a man as frivolous as that could ever properly fulfill the duties of a Duke. It seemed like there would never be a shortage of women around him. Almost like a tyrant bringing about the ruin of a nation.

‘There’s no point hoping for sponsorship from someone like that. I’ll have to move my studio, after all. It’s a shame, but I’ll have to sell some of Father’s paintings…’

Clarette never wanted to sell her father’s legacy. But at the same time, she worried about what would happen if the art dealer didn’t pay her well enough.

With her heart wavering, Clarette headed to the restaurant where she had her appointment.

* * *

Lionel arrived at Clarette Sollier’s house thirty minutes later.

“That must be it. 45 Berminga Street.”

He got out of the carriage and approached the house in question.

The house was exactly as she’d described. Far too large a two-story house to be standing in an ordinary residential area. The second floor, where she lived, was small, but the first-floor studio was enormous.

‘Her father’s legacy… My first thought was to sell it off immediately, but this woman is doing everything she can to hold on to it.’

He pulled the sponsorship contract for the Sollier family from his coat. Even reading it again, it was such a generous and careless contract.

Paintings for the Valentin Duchy? Such things were of no use to him. Unless he could recover the sponsorship money he’d given so far by selling her paintings, that was another story.

But Lionel didn’t have the slightest expectation for Clarette’s paintings. He just wanted to check for himself.

Did she really need the sponsorship?

If the sponsorship was cut off, what would her future look like?

Lionel knocked on the door, wondering what kind of reception he would get from her.

She’d left angry the previous day, but wouldn’t she be more surprised than angry if he showed up the next day? If she was at home, she’d probably be dressed comfortably—would she be embarrassed?

But no matter how long he waited, there was no answer.

Could she have gone out? He peeked through the window next to the door, but heavy curtains blocked the view inside.

Was this a wasted trip? He turned away from her house, feeling deflated, when—

“Excuse me, but what brings you to Mr. Arno’s house?”

The person who spoke was the owner of the open-air café across from the studio. Lionel hesitated, wondering what excuse to give, but decided to be honest.

“I am the Duke of Valentin. Clarette Sollier receives my sponsorship, so I stopped by to see how she’s doing. It seems she’s not home.”

“Pardon? Did you say… the Duke? The new Duke?”

The café owner was flustered and quickly changed his demeanor. Lionel felt awkward but headed over to the café anyway. Since Clarette wasn’t home, he thought he’d do a bit of investigating.

“I’d like a cup of coffee. Could you keep me company for a bit?”

“Oh, yes! Please wait just a moment.”

Fortunately, there were few customers in the café. The owner quickly brought out the coffee. At Lionel’s gesture, he hesitantly sat down across from him.

“I’d like to ask you a few things about Miss Sollier. Would you answer honestly?”

“Yes, of course. I’ve been running this café for twenty years. I’ve seen that young lady since she was a child.”

“I see. Has she been painting since she was young?”

“Yes, she’s Mr. Arno’s daughter, after all. She was talented from an early age. She even drew my portrait once.”

“So she’s been painting for quite a while. I’m not one to judge her skill, but… what about her diligence? Does she paint often?”

“Oh, absolutely! Even when I go out to sweep in the morning, she’s painting. When I come out to light the lanterns in the evening, she’s still there. Isn’t that amazing? If it were me, I couldn’t stand it for even an hour…”

She really was diligent in her work. Honestly, Lionel had never doubted that. Considering her character, it seemed likely.

“Her mother… is she not around?”

“No, I heard she passed away giving birth to Miss Sollier. So, it was always just the two of them, father and daughter.”

That was the same for Lionel. His own mother, who had been the former Duke’s mistress, became weak after giving birth to him and died before he was even a year old.

“Did they always live together? No other relatives or frequent visitors to the house?”

“Mr. Arno was a famous painter, so he had many students. The house was always full of people—until he passed away.”

“And now…?”

“Yes, ever since the funeral three years ago, no one goes in or out of that house. Once the teacher was gone, everyone left. Miss Sollier has stayed in that studio ever since. She has no friends… and I don’t think she has any close relatives.”

Clarette was completely alone. After her father died three years ago, she had holed up in that place, painting endlessly. Living off the money sent by the Valentin Duchy.

Imagining that, Lionel felt strange.

In a house where no one came or went, Clarette Sollier spent her days painting alone.

Surrounded by her father’s silent paintings. Facing her own silent works.

What a lonely scene that must be.

As Lionel fell silent, the café owner carefully changed the subject.

“I heard the Duchy is sponsoring her… Forgive me for saying this, but thank you.”

“Thank you? For what?”

“I’ve watched her for so long, she feels like a niece to me. I’m sure she’ll become a great artist. She works so hard and paints so well—someday the world will recognize her.”

Is she really that talented? Or is it just that this man cares for her so much?

For the first time, Lionel found himself wanting to see her paintings. He had no knowledge of art and probably wouldn’t feel much, but still…

“Thank you for the coffee. Please don’t tell anyone I was here.”

“Oh, yes! Take care.”

As he paid, dropping a few gold coins on the table, the café owner’s face lit up. Money truly was precious.

Leaving the café, Lionel paused as he was about to get back into his carriage. He couldn’t stop thinking about her studio.

Since he was here, he might as well take a look from outside. He walked around the studio as if taking a stroll.

But the curtains inside the windows blocked any view. Perhaps because a woman lived alone, security seemed tight.

But to Lionel, her precautions meant nothing. He slipped around the side of the house, out of sight. Inspecting a few windows closely, he noticed one with a loose latch.

Lionel grabbed the problematic window, skillfully jiggling and pushing it. What looked firmly shut slowly began to open under his practiced hands.

Click. When the latch finally gave way, Lionel gently opened the window and slipped inside with ease. He was used to this kind of thing from his days fighting in street battles.

‘Well, it’s not like I’m here to do anything bad.’

Justifying his trespassing to himself, Lionel entered Clarette’s space.

‘Let’s have a look around.’

He walked slowly to the center of the quiet studio.

* * *

Under the warm midday sun,

Clarette sat in a restaurant in Moerven with Melanie Bouvier, the top art dealer in town.

“Oh my, you made the right decision. You’re finally willing to sell your father’s paintings?”

“Well, I just want to check the prices for now.”

Melanie, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, laughed softly as she ordered expensive dishes for Clarette without hesitation.

“It must have been hard to manage living expenses on your own. Especially after that recent riverboat accident.”

“Yes. That’s true, but it might just be a temporary setback…”

“Oh dear, temporary? Miss Sollier, haven’t I always told you? You know how limited women are in this field.”

Clarette quietly sipped her water. Melanie continued, her tone gentle.

“Think about it. The Royal Academy doesn’t admit female students, does it? Even famous painters only take male apprentices. In these circumstances, most nobles won’t even hire a female artist. They think women lack skill.”

When Clarette didn’t reply, Melanie tried even harder to persuade her.