Chapter 81

As soon as the loud gunshot rang out, the servant who was collecting the dead deer turned his head and stared at Richard.

“Earl, have you already caught another one? Then I’ll go over there and get the arrows…”

“No, leave it. I only dealt with a useless creature without antlers.”

Richard calmly added, watching the startled horse rear up.

“Let it die as it is.”

* * *

About a month ago, Thiago received two letters.

The first letter was from his patron, Marquis Xavier.

As always, the letter began with ‘Dear Thiago’, and the Marquis proceeded with criticisms of his recent works, ending with outright blame.

Despite his earnest sponsorship, Thiago’s skills had stagnated, lacked originality, and he always painted boring pictures.

So, the Crown Prince had removed Thiago Salto’s name from the list of works for the National Art Museum’s special exhibition this summer.

‘My skills are stagnant? What nonsense.’

Thiago crumpled the Marquis Xavier’s letter full of complaints and tossed it into a corner.

Lately, the Marquis had been desperate to win the Crown Prince’s favor. His sponsorship of Thiago was also part of his effort to get closer to the Crown Prince in any way possible.

Yet, since Thiago could no longer attract the Crown Prince’s attention, the Marquis was becoming frantic. Thiago sneered at such a petty attitude.

‘If he’s dissatisfied, he can stop sponsoring me right away. There are plenty of nobles who want me. Even that Clarette is being sponsored by the Duke, so am I not at least that good?’

Thiago recalled the moment he was alone with Clarette in the Duke’s auction party studio.

She was as pretty as she had been in her childhood. No, she had become even more beautiful. She now looked like a grown woman, no longer just a girl.

But still, she seemed to know nothing about men, and Clarette was foolishly giving her heart to a man like the Duke of Valentin, whose intentions were obvious.

‘By now, they must already be sleeping together.’

Leaning loosely against the chair, Thiago imagined Clarette moaning under the Duke of Valentin.

It was an indescribably unpleasant scene. Even though he had never had her, he felt as if she had been taken away.

Therefore, he felt he absolutely had to take her back.

‘Clarette is staying at the ducal residence longer than expected. It’ll be a problem if she ends up having a child.’

If the Duke of Valentin, an illegitimate child, resembled his father, history would repeat itself. Like the previous Duke, who brought a beautiful commoner woman into the annex, only to take her child and drive her out, causing her death.

“If that happens, Clarette will be ruined beyond repair. By then, even I won’t be able to fix it.”

Thiago frowned at the disgusting thought and picked up the second letter.

This one was from Earl Crowley. There was no family crest on the letter, which had been delivered directly rather than through the post office.

‘A secret commission?’

At first, he thought it was a discreet commission that sometimes came to painters. Like painting a n*ked goddess of l*st with the face of someone’s lover—those vulgar requests.

But the content of the letter was completely unexpected. Thiago stared at the letter paper, which contained only a few lines.

Earl Crowley invited Thiago to dinner, saying there was something to discuss about Clarette Sollier.

Why was this man, known as the Duke of Valentin’s cousin, involved in Clarette’s affairs?

‘This is suspicious.’

Thiago sensed the scent of conspiracy in the strange letter. Yet, there was something strangely attractive about that scent.

‘Maybe I should hear him out.’

And so, Thiago met Earl Crowley for the first time.

The lavish dinner lasted a long time, but the Earl only exchanged pleasantries and empty words. Eventually, Thiago couldn’t stand it and brought up the main topic himself.

<By the way, Earl, didn’t you say you had something to discuss about Clarette?>

The Earl saw the impatience in Thiago’s eyes and smiled faintly.

<I heard that you and Miss Sollier were more than just painter and model. There’s even talk that Arno Sollier wanted to make you his son-in-law during his lifetime.>

Thiago neither affirmed nor denied the Earl’s words. As silence continued, the Earl muttered in a subtle tone.

<If that’s the case, you must not be pleased with Miss Sollier’s current situation. Even though he’s my cousin, the Duke of Valentin’s womanizing is notorious.>

<…What are you trying to say to me?>

When Thiago shot him a cold look, the Earl made his proposal as if he had been waiting.

<Soon, there will be a hunting tournament in my domain. I’ll prepare a seat for you, so please paint a landscape of the tournament.>

Thiago didn’t want to accept a commission from this inscrutable man. But the Earl added a condition that strongly drew his interest.

<However, you must paint the picture in front of Miss Sollier.>

* * *

“Thiago.”

Just as Thiago finished his sketch and was quietly recalling his meeting with Earl Crowley, he heard Clarette’s voice and turned his head.

There was only her before his eyes, and somehow the surroundings were empty.

Some contestants had returned early from the hunting tournament, so the nobles in the stands had crowded forward to see them.

“…Yeah, what is it?”

Thiago barely gathered himself and replied to Clarette. She gestured quietly toward the outside of the stands.

“Could we talk over there for a moment? I have something to ask you.”

Thiago wiped his charcoal-stained hands and stood up. As he followed Clarette, he hoped that she would ask him for something very important and difficult.

That way, he could use it as an excuse to bring Clarette to his house.

The two stopped at a secluded spot behind the stands. Facing Thiago, Clarette was fidgeting just like when she had asked him long ago to be her portrait model.

Just as Thiago felt a good premonition, she carefully opened her mouth.

“Thiago, could you… still paint like my father?”

“Like Master? What do you mean?”

“Actually, I found an old portrait my father painted. It’s in such poor condition that most of the paint has come off. I tried fixing it myself, but it’s not easy. Because…”

“Of course it wouldn’t be. Your style is different from Master’s.”

At Thiago’s assertion, Clarette nodded helplessly. He knew her painting very well.

Clarette pleaded with her father’s disciple, eyes full of earnestness.

“So, could you help restore that portrait? It must be a really beautiful painting originally, and it’s a precious early work of my father. You’re the only one in the world who could finish it again. So…”

Thiago was momentarily lost for words, staring at Clarette. It was the first time he had received such a heartfelt request from her.

Even five years ago, when he left the atelier, she had only stood silently, saying a brief goodbye.

“Thiago, please.”

It probably wasn’t intentional seduction, but her troubled, helpless gaze shook Thiago’s heart quite a bit. He looked at Clarette in silence, then blurted out.

“That’s easy enough.”

“Really?”

Clarette’s eyes sparkled with hope. Thiago kept his tone as calm as possible.

“But if I help you, you’ll have to help me too.”

“Okay, sure. What do you want me to do?”

Things were going so smoothly. Thiago answered as if he had been waiting.

“Of course, what I want is…”

But he couldn’t finish his sentence.

“Miss Sollier!”

At the sharp voice of a woman, both Clarette and Thiago turned their heads. Jasmine de Bruyel was calling Clarette with a pale face.

“Lady Jasmine, I’m here! What’s wrong?”

As Clarette approached the stands, Jasmine grabbed her hand.

“It’s terrible! There’s been an accident in the woods, and the Duke of Valentin…”

Clarette’s face froze in shock as she listened to the explanation. Thiago tried to approach her, but she didn’t even glance at him and ran ahead.

Left behind, Thiago watched Clarette’s back with a sense of emptiness.

She was acting like someone who had lost a lover.

* * *

Lionel opened his eyes about an hour after fainting. Left alone in the woods, he stared blankly at the sky, then frowned as pain washed over him.

“…Ah, d*mn. This hurts like hell.”