Chapter 87

“Lionel.”

Clarette closed the gallery door and carefully called his name. Lionel turned from the beautiful statue of lovers and looked at her.

Clarette was dressed in the summer outfit Jasmine had gifted her. Seeing her fresh light green dress, Lionel couldn’t help but smile.

“I heard today was the last session. Jasmine must have really been satisfied. It seems your clothes change every time I see you.”

“Yes, Lady Jasmine was delighted to see her portrait. I think she’s planning to introduce me to other nobles as well.”

“That’s good, but don’t get too busy. I need you, too.”

Lionel said this as he walked toward Clarette. She smiled brightly, seeing him walk as usual.

“Are you all better now? Are you in pain?”

“Yes, I’ve finished recuperating. I thought I was going to die, honestly. I missed you so much.”

Lionel gently lowered his head and kissed Clarette’s forehead. When she looked up, smiling shyly, he met her gaze tenderly.

“Shall we go to your studio? You can finally paint my portrait, right?”

“Yes, now all that’s left is your painting.”

The two walked side by side up the darkened annex stairs. While Clarette went to her bedroom to change out of her outdoor clothes, Lionel entered her studio first.

The place looked just as it always had. Lionel glanced around the work table where Clarette hid her n*de painting.

Between the table and the wall, there were three canvases covered with cloth. Lionel spotted a canvas of familiar size, likely holding his n*de painting, and placed it on the easel in advance.

‘What are the other hidden ones? Maybe some secret practice sketches?’

He was curious about Clarette’s other paintings. Though covered, one seemed to be the painting of the god bound to the rocky mountain he had seen previously at the atelier.

Then what was the other? Through the cloth, he glimpsed yellow, pink, and green hues, so it seemed to be colored already.

‘Could it be? The portrait of Clarette’s mother.’

<My father painted one before I was born. You wouldn’t have seen it, Duke>

Clarette had said she kept her mother’s portrait privately. Did she resemble her mother much?

Lionel was debating whether to uncover the canvas when—

“Lionel!”

Clarette, now in her everyday clothes, appeared in the doorway with a startled voice. Lionel looked at her, puzzled.

“Clarette, what’s wrong?”

He asked calmly, but Clarette hurried over and checked the hidden canvases. She sighed in relief to see only the n*de painting had been set out.

“Oh, you surprised me. I thought you were trying to peek at my practice sketches again.”

“No, I could have, but I didn’t. I held back, right?”

Clarette gave him a reproachful look but eventually surrendered to his smiling face. She gently scolded him,

“No peeking at my paintings without permission.”

“All right, don’t worry. But I can look at my painting, right?”

“Yes, that’s fine. You’ve already seen it.”

Clarette removed the covering cloth from the canvas on the easel. Lionel enjoyed viewing his n*de painting again after a long while.

His n*ked figure, sitting in the softly lit room, looked almost luminous and beautiful. Yet the muscles and texture were realistically rendered, not simply idealized.

“This painting is fascinating, even seeing it again. It’s not like looking in a mirror, it’s like… another me living in another world. Even though it’s definitely me.”

“This is how I understood you.”

Clarette spoke as she arranged paints on her palette.

“When I paint a portrait, I try to make it as pleasing as possible to the subject. Everyone wants their ideal self in a painting, so they commission it. But mythological paintings are different.”

“How so?”

Clarette sat in the chair before the easel, gazing at Lionel in the painting. Though it was a practice piece, it was nearly complete and she was very pleased.

She murmured with dreamy eyes, as if lost in the painting’s man,

“I borrowed your form for the painting, Lionel. And I’ll embody a god in this figure.”

“What god are you thinking of?”

At the auction party, he had asked the same question; Clarette had replied she’d need to see his body first.

Now that she knew his body well, she was thinking of two gods at once.

“First, the god of war. His body is the most masculine, his personality is wild and unpredictable, but he acts only for just causes. In fact, he’s the hardest god to find a model for. The body can’t just be beautiful—it must also convey raw strength.”

In short, only the most manly and excellent body could be a model for the god of war. But Lionel looked at Clarette with a dubious face.

“Clarette, I don’t know much about mythology, but that one’s famous. Wasn’t the god of war a notorious womanizer?”

“Yes. Now that you mention it, even that matches you quite a bit.”

“…Could you compare me to my present, not my past?”

Lionel looked away, embarrassed, but Clarette continued calmly.

“And the other god I found in you… is the god of love. The son of the god of war.”

“You mean I have both the father and son’s traits?”

“Yes. It may sound strange, but that’s how I see you.”

Clarette looked up from the painting to Lionel.

“The god of love is playful and long immature, but grows up after meeting someone he truly loves. Because his beloved is a mortal woman, not a goddess, their love isn’t easily fulfilled.”

“I think I’ve heard that story somewhere.”

“The ‘Spring’ statue you were looking at in the gallery tonight is about that myth. Love between a god and a mortal. It’s a work depicting the god of love and his lover.”

Lionel recalled the statue on the first floor, emphasizing the beauty of both male and female bodies. Clarette said she saw the god of love in him, but he felt he didn’t quite fit that image.

If he had to choose, he suited the god of war more.

“Clarette, so which god will you paint me as? War? Or love?”

“I think either is possible. I’ll need to practice more before deciding…”

“Then, let’s finish one painting tonight and think about it. My first n*de painting is almost done, isn’t it?”

As Lionel looked again at his painting, Clarette tensed and pursed her lips. Before the final coloring, she solemnly said,

“Lionel. Before we start tonight’s work, there’s something I want to say.”

“What is it?”

“Tonight, you might be staying in the annex for quite a while. Maybe until dawn…”

“If I stay late, that’s fine. No need to worry, I’m used to being up late.”

Lionel answered calmly, but Clarette looked even more anxious. She fidgeted, then blurted,

“I… I’m going to finish everything tonight, no matter what.”

Clarette gripped her brush tightly and looked up at him. Seeing her, Lionel wondered if he’d made her feel pressured by focusing so much on the painting.

To be considerate, he stepped back and replied gently,

“All right. You finished Jasmine’s portrait today, so finish mine too. Then you can try other poses next time, right?”

“…Yes, that’s right. I suppose so.”

She agreed to work, but her response felt flat. Had he said something wrong?

Lionel kept noticing her disappointed expression. But Clarette had already steeled herself and picked up the palette.

After finishing tonight’s painting, he would make sure to make her happy.

With that resolve, Lionel undressed before Clarette for the first time in a while.

But tonight, she didn’t look away and watched him undress intently. Lionel noticed her gaze and chuckled.

“What’s wrong, Clarette? Are you not embarrassed anymore?”

“Oh, I’m still embarrassed. But… I’m trying to get used to seeing you up close.”

Clarette stared at Lionel’s n*ked body with determined eyes, as if testing her own limits. Finding her effort adorable, Lionel deliberately undressed very slowly.

When he finally removed his trousers, Lionel glanced back at Clarette before sitting on the sofa in the pose for the painting, barely holding back a smile.

Her cheeks were flushed, but she kept her eyes fixed on his firm body. Lionel sat on the sofa in the pose from the painting, hoping tonight’s work would finish quickly.

“Well then, please take care of me tonight.”