Chapter 94

“Clarette, what are you thinking right now?”

“…I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“That’s a lie. Your eyes are sparkling.”

Me? 

Clarette startled and turned her head away from Lionel. A moment later, his amused laughter echoed.

“Just admit it. You can’t take your eyes off me, you want me.”

“Of course I want you. You’re someone I like.”

“So you made me like this? So I can’t escape anywhere.”

He could easily escape just by standing up.

Clarette glanced at Lionel, n*ked and muscular, teasing with words. At times like this, he looked just like an immature god of love.

Meanwhile, Lionel looked up at her with a relaxed face, even though he was tied.

“But, was the God of Hope originally bound with cloth like this? I thought he was chained to a rock.”

“It’s supposed to be chains, not cloth. But I couldn’t tie you up with something like that.”

“Why? I can handle those kinds of plea… ahem, tools, just fine.”

“‘Plea…’?”

Clarette wondered what he was about to say, but Lionel avoided her gaze with an embarrassed expression.

He judged it was too early to bring up such a topic with her, so he quickly changed the subject.

“By the way, how did you end up drawing Jeremy in the tea room today? He’s so awkward around girls, he probably couldn’t even talk to you.”

“Oh, I asked him to model for me first. Since it was a sketch, it’s better practice if the subject is clear.”

Clarette replied lightly and walked toward the easel. Lionel, sitting and picking up charcoal, asked her,

“Why did you practice in the tea room? Are you planning to paint there later?”

“It’s one of the candidates. I’m looking for a place to paint your portrait.”

A portrait in military uniform. Lionel imagined it briefly.

If he was dressed properly, he was confident he’d look good in any setting, but…

“Captain Lionel of the ducal residence.”

That phrase felt very unfamiliar. Captain Lionel fit war zones, taverns, hotels, even the Emperor’s audience chamber, but the ducal residence was an exception.

Clarette noticed his change in expression and asked carefully,

“Would another place be better?”

“Well, I don’t think the ducal residence is quite right.”

“If you have a preferred place, tell me, Lionel. It’s your portrait, so I’ll use the background you want.”

Lionel thought about it. Where would be best? Genoa? Military Academy? Or the border where he mainly served?

“Where do others usually have their portraits painted?”

“Mostly indoors. In a study or a well-decorated room. Noblewomen’s portraits are usually painted in bedrooms. They like to place their cherished items in the painting, or lie down for comfort.”

“What about noblemen?”

“I haven’t painted any. Actually, this is my first time.”

Lionel almost asked ‘Why?’ but held his tongue.

He’d welcomed Clarette to the ducal residence without prejudice and modeled n*de for her, but the world’s gaze hadn’t changed.

There were very few female painters in the Empire, and the commissions they received were limited. It was unprecedented for a high-ranking man like Duke Valentin to commission a portrait from a woman.

Thus, painting a portrait of him to be shown publicly was a huge challenge for Clarette. Lionel realized the importance of this and fell into deep thought.

Where should the background be?

If he painted a real battlefield, it would have a dramatic, historical feel, but he couldn’t send Clarette to such a place.

Besides, Captain Lionel was already retired. He had medals personally awarded by the Emperor, his uniform still fit perfectly, and he could pose in any soldierly stance.

‘I’m no longer a soldier. It’s all in the past.’

Lionel was calm as he reflected on his past. He didn’t particularly miss it, nor did he find it painful enough to avoid recalling.

The past was simply the past.

“Lionel, your expression right now.”

Clarette spoke in surprise. When Lionel looked up, she spoke with a slightly excited voice,

“You were thinking of the past, right? That look in your eyes was really impressive. It’d be great if that expression was captured in the portrait.”

“Oh, really? I was just lost in thought.”

“Is there something you remembered?”

Clarette was interested in everything about him. Listening to the sound of charcoal scratching, Lionel spoke calmly,

“It wasn’t a specific event—just vague images swirling in my head. There was glory, hardship, joy, and pain.”

“That’s complex. I thought you’d have more bad memories since you fought so many wars.”

Of course, there were many. But Lionel replied as if nothing was wrong,

“Well, it wasn’t always bad. But I don’t want to go back to those times. It’s just that all of it was who I was then.”

Clarette liked Lionel’s quiet voice, speaking as if it meant little. She kept sketching his n*de and pondered with him.

The figure of Captain Lionel, now part of the past; the wars he’d experienced, what he’d gained and lost.

A place that could symbolically show all those images.

“I… I just thought of it. The perfect place for Captain Lionel’s portrait.”

“Really? Where?”

“A place where time has passed.”

Clarette put down her charcoal and looked at Lionel. Without a hint of wavering, he maintained the difficult pose with his hands tied above his head.

Yet Lionel smiled brightly without showing any sign of strain.

“Is there a place like that? Like an abandoned house?”

“Something similar. I haven’t seen it myself yet, so I’ll have to check it out first…”

“Should we go together? Where is it?”

“It’s a place inside the duchy. I heard it’s in the eastern forest.”

Clarette wiped her hands and stood, approaching Lionel. She untied his hands and continued,

“I’ll go alone first and sketch the scenery. Seeing it in a painting and seeing it with your own eyes can feel different—it might seem shabby in person. So…”

“You want to give me a first impression through the painting?”

“Yes. Is that all right?”

Lionel nodded willingly.

“Of course, your eye is better than mine. I’ve already explained what kind of feeling I want.”

“Thank you, Lionel. I hope you like it.”

Clarette smiled and took away the scarf. Meanwhile, Lionel stared at the white cloth, realizing it could be used for much more than just tying his hands.

“…It’s still too soon, isn’t it.”

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing.”

When Clarette looked back, Lionel was rubbing his wrist, stiff from holding the pose. She looked concerned, so he changed the subject lightly.

“So, will we be able to spend time together during the day soon? Like when you painted Jasmine, you’ll spend all day with me.”

“While I’m painting, yes. You’ll be fully clothed then, so it’ll be fine even if people see us.”

He didn’t care about others—he just wanted to be alone with her. Lionel watched Clarette tidy up near the easel and suddenly voiced a question.

“But Clarette, even if you haven’t painted noblemen, you have painted common men, right?”

Lionel recalled what he’d overheard at Marquis Rembart’s garden party.

<Twenty-three. All were commoners, but they were portraits.>

As expected, Clarette nodded right away.

“That’s right. But even for men, I’ve only painted regular portraits, and this is the first time with such a clear subject. So I’m really looking forward to it.”

She seemed genuinely excited about painting Lionel’s portrait. Meanwhile, a nagging curiosity arose in his heart.

Was Thiago Salto among the twenty-three men whose portraits Clarette had painted?