Chapter 86

Clarette looked down at him with a bewildered expression. 

He had been deeply asleep—hadn’t he…?

“Lionel, did you wake up because of me?”

“No. I pretended to be asleep when you came in. I was curious what you’d do sneaking in like this.”

Lionel spoke leisurely and slowly sat up. Leaning back on the soft, large pillow, he looked very comfortable.

“You came in so quietly, but why just stand there and stare? Surely you didn’t come just to look at my face.”

“Um…”

Truthfully, she really had come just to look at his face. But if she answered that way, Lionel would surely be disappointed. Clarette awkwardly avoided his gaze and finally found a suitable answer.

“I heard you had to recuperate for a week, so I came to check if you were badly hurt. Are you hurt anywhere besides your ankle?”

“Everything else is fine. I got a few bruises when I fell off the horse, so I’m in no shape to model right now—it’s a bit embarrassing.”

“Really? But you look fine to me now.”

“Well, you might change your mind when you see this.”

Lionel lightly slipped off his nightshirt and showed Clarette his back. She was startled to see his broad back covered in bluish bruises.

“My goodness, how…”

“It just looks bad, that’s all. It doesn’t really hurt.”

Lionel replied nonchalantly, then put his shirt back on. Seeing Clarette’s sympathetic face, he smiled gently and changed the subject.

“So, how’s Jasmine’s painting going?”

“Oh, yes. It’s almost finished now.”

“Is she happy?”

Clarette nodded shyly. Jasmine was very pleased with both her painting and Clarette herself. As the painting progressed, Jasmine showered her with compliments and gifts, filling Clarette’s wardrobe with new clothes.

“Lady Jasmine is enviable. She’s had you all to herself for a month now.”

Lionel grumbled as if sulking, and Clarette smiled softly.

“The work is almost done. Then I’ll finish the n*de painting, and also… I’ll paint your portrait.”

“My portrait? You mean, with clothes?”

“O-of course. It’s for public display, after all.”

“Ah, right. A portrait. What should I wear?”

Lionel smiled, lost in pleasant thought. Clarette felt confident she could paint him splendidly in any attire.

Then Lionel murmured absentmindedly,

“The first painting should probably be in uniform.”

“In uniform?”

Clarette’s eyes widened at the unexpected choice. Lionel nodded as if it were obvious.

“I’ve spent more time as a soldier than as Duke Valentin. Of course, I’ll have a portrait as the Duke, but… the first painting should be Captain Lionel.”

Clarette was reminded again that this man had spent over seven years on battlefields.

‘Come to think of it, when he shot the dog at the hunting tournament… Lionel was so decisive.’

How much training and how many fierce battles had it taken for him to shoot so unhesitatingly?

Most people would find such a life unbearable. Surely there had been many painful moments.

As Clarette’s expression darkened slightly, Lionel spoke quickly.

“Clarette, do you dislike the uniform? Should I just wear my usual clothes?”

“No, I like the uniform. Now that I think about it, I’ve never seen you in uniform.”

“Oh, really? Then I definitely want to show you. It suits me quite well.”

Lionel spoke confidently, and Clarette smiled softly.

“I thought so. That’s why you must have been so popular with women, Captain Lionel.”

“…Ahem.”

Clarette lightly teased his past, and Lionel quietly looked away. She hadn’t meant anything by it, but he found himself thinking too much.

Now that they were lovers, would Clarette care about this past as Captain Lionel? He recalled the reactions of women who tried to act as his girlfriend.

How many women had he slept with, how many had he dated, and how many had he truly loved?

Lionel had never properly answered such questions from women. But if Clarette asked, he would have to answer.

Shamefully, he’d spent nights with so many women that he couldn’t even count, but he’d never actually dated anyone, and he’d never truly loved anyone.

‘…How pathetic.’

Lionel felt deep regret and self-doubt about his history with women. Even if it was before meeting Clarette, surely she wouldn’t easily accept such a past.

Lionel quietly reached out and took Clarette’s hand, which was resting on the bed. He truly wanted to treat this woman well.

She was the first real lover he’d ever wanted.

“Lionel, what are you thinking?”

Clarette was quietly studying his face. Lionel gently shook his head and changed the subject.

“At the hunting tournament, Jasmine spoke to me about you. She said she already knows everything.”

“What? Knows what?”

“Our relationship.”

Clarette’s mouth opened slightly in surprise. Lionel asked, puzzled,

“Clarette, didn’t you talk with Jasmine?”

“Of course not. We agreed to keep it secret. I haven’t said anything to Lady Jasmine…”

Clarette trailed off, flustered, then suddenly realized something. She looked panicked, then confessed to Lionel,

“Oh no. She must have secretly looked at my sketchbook.”

“Sketchbook? What’s in there?”

“…Your drawings.”

Clarette’s face turned bright red, her voice shrinking to a whisper.

Was it really something to be so embarrassed about? Lionel tilted his head.

“We live together at the ducal residence, so it’s natural to have a few drawings of me, isn’t it? You could just say you were practicing my portrait.”

“Well, it’s…”

“You didn’t draw me n*ked, did you?”

“It’s not a n*de. Just croquis, or doodles… I drew you way too much. Enough for anyone to realize I’m interested.”

Now Clarette’s ears were burning red. Lionel tried to hold back his laughter as he comforted her.

“Don’t worry too much. Jasmine cares about you a lot, so if you ask, she’ll keep it secret.”

“Yes…”

Clarette nodded with a gloomy expression. Lionel looked quietly at her face and asked,

“Clarette, do you like me that much?”

Clarette glanced at Lionel, who seemed intent on teasing her, but he just smiled.

“Or do you only like my face? As a drawing subject?”

“…I like your body, too.”

“That’s a given. Anything else?”

Clarette, trying to escape the embarrassing situation, pulled her hand from Lionel’s grasp. But he instead hugged her from behind, pulling her close.

“Lionel!”

Clarette pushed his hand away in protest, but Lionel simply embraced her and asked,

“Is there nothing else you like? Do you really only like my looks?”

Dragged fully onto the bed, Clarette realized it would be hard to escape. She surrendered and confessed to Lionel,

“I like your voice, too. It comforts me when I hear it.”

“And?”

He clearly had no intention of letting her go easily. Clarette slowly opened up her heart.

“And your personality—I really misunderstood at first… But after living together, I found you’re quietly responsible and decisive when it matters. I like that.”

Lionel rested his head on her shoulder, holding her gently. Clarette continued in a calmer voice,

“And, I like how you’re generous with others. Some look down on you for not being ‘noble’ enough, but I think it’s your strength. And also…”

As Clarette listed the things she liked, Lionel couldn’t help but smile. He hadn’t lived a life desperate for praise, but—

When Clarette pointed out his good points, his heart swelled with indescribable satisfaction and pride.

“Ah, Lionel. I really have to go now. Tomorrow I have to paint Lady Jasmine’s portrait.”

Clarette finally pulled away. Lionel let her go, softly calling her name.

“Clarette.”

“Yes?”

“You’re the perfect woman for me.”

Clarette turned and quietly looked at his face. There was a gentle smile on his lips and only sincerity in his eyes. As Lionel leaned in once more, Clarette closed her eyes.

Instead of saying thank you, they shared a light kiss, ending their brief date.

* * *

During Lionel’s week of recuperation, Clarette tried to visit him at night as much as possible.

But on the second night, she saw Susan on the first floor of the main residence and turned back. On the third night, she almost greeted Oliver in the main hall. From the fourth night, she was too busy finishing Jasmine’s portrait to find any time.

Finally, after completing Jasmine’s portrait and saying goodbye, on the seventh night—

Before returning to her studio, Clarette, for some reason, stopped by the annex gallery, which was lit late into the night.

There, Lionel was gazing quietly at Castion’s statue, ‘Spring.’

Without a crutch, wearing his usual relaxed smile.