Chapter 97

South of Genoa, the banquet hosted by the party-loving Devon Earldom was attended by many nobles from the capital’s outskirts today as well.

“Oh, you arrived right on time, Duke Valentin! It’s been a while, this is the first time seeing you this summer.”

Earl Devon, in his mid-thirties, greeted his precious guest with a warm smile. Lionel responded with a gentle smile at the Earl’s hospitality.

“Thank you for inviting me. I’ve been so busy, I kept declining, so I feel apologetic.”

“No need, it’s understandable. You must have been busy with that paint business. So, has your business finally gotten on track?”

“Yes. It’s just starting, but…”

When Lionel smiled confidently, the nobles who had been hovering nearby quietly approached him. Most were the ones who enjoyed gossiping about the rise and fall of the Valentin Duchy in the social circles.

“Your Grace, I heard you managed to create something wonderful in just a couple of months? Who did you invest in?”

“You’re importing raw materials from abroad, right? Lapis Lazuli—did you have connections with the Garon Kingdom from the beginning?”

Unlike at the hunting tournament, Lionel’s return to society brought a flood of questions about his business.

He answered their curiosity patiently, wearing his usual relaxed smile.

“By the way, about the name of that paint—‘Clarette’. There’s a rumor the green was made by the Valentin Duchy’s painter. Did you bring that woman to the ducal residence with business in mind from the start?”

At someone’s sycophantic remark, the nobles chimed in.

“Ah, as expected. Your Grace, you have great insight!”

“You were thorough with your calculations. We wondered why you suddenly brought a commoner woman into your mansion.”

“She must have had a unique sense. After all, artists are different from ordinary people…”

Lionel let the misunderstanding-laced compliments about Clarette go uncorrected. If the paint became famous, the paintings she used it for would become famous, too.

“But, has your portrait not been finished yet, Your Grace? Lady Jasmine’s portrait was wonderful.”

Lionel showed interest in someone’s question and replied,

“I gave Lady Jasmine her turn. She only stayed in the duchy for a month. Soon, my portrait will be painted, too.”

Jasmine had boasted about her painting so much that the nobles showed great anticipation at his words.

“It sounds like a masterpiece will be born. The model is outstanding, after all.”

“Lady Jasmine said that painter was truly talented. She said the painting was exactly to her liking.”

“Your Grace, why not bring the painter to the next party? I saw her at the last auction—she’s quite a beauty. Let us share some of the joy.”

“Yes, for a commoner she was quite elegant. Not fit as a partner, but she seemed good enough for a brief conversation.”

Lionel only smiled faintly and didn’t respond. He had no intention of making Clarette a spectacle for the nobles.

Just then, a middle-aged Marquis spoke pompously.

“There are hardly any painters worth speaking with. The genius mythological painter Maxim Garnier, the landscape master Lucius Angelo, and the portrait specialist Thiago Salto. Only these three are truly recognized.”

Lionel didn’t know the first two at all. He only commented lightly on the last name.

“I’ve only met Thiago Salto among those three. How highly is he regarded?”

The Marquis, pleased by Duke Valentin’s interest, boasted his knowledge.

“As you know, Your Grace, Clarette Sollier’s father, Arno Sollier, was a remarkable portrait artist. But unfortunately, he painted too many commoners. The only proper noble portrait he did was the previous Duke Valentin.”

“So, is Thiago Salto different from his master?”

“Yes. Thiago Salto mostly painted noble portraits and has many works for his age. Ironically, his most famous piece is so-called ‘Flower in a Frame’…”

The middle-aged Marquis recalled Clarette’s portrait and gave a sly smile. While Lionel tried not to show his discomfort, the Marquis continued regretfully,

“Well, even Thiago Salto seems to be drifting from portraits lately, challenging himself in new fields.”

“New fields?”

Lionel wondered, just as new guests appeared at the entrance, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Earl Crowley!”

Earl Devon, the banquet host, smiled brightly and went to greet the new guests. Lionel hadn’t heard Richard would be coming to this banquet and watched his cousin with a curious feeling.

Except for the Valentin family funeral and the hunting tournament, it was practically the first time the two attended the same social gathering. The surrounding nobles began whispering about Earl Crowley.

“They say Earl Crowley’s domain is making huge profits again? The new potato variety from Asilique, the yields are impressive.”

“Earl Crowley has a sharp business sense. Maybe it’s because he travels abroad so often? Everything he brings in from afar succeeds…”

“You never know with the world. The previous Earl was so devout, the domain was nearly ruined, but thanks to those donations, Earl Crowley’s domain is now considered for the next cathedral site.”

Lionel listened carefully to the nobles’ words. He had been busy with Valentin’s business, so he knew little about Crowley’s operations.

‘Victor went to Asilique Kingdom with Richard, so Richard must have traveled abroad often. But what’s this about a cathedral?’

As Lionel kept silent, the nobles quickly shifted their gossip to Richard.

“So the cathedral—will that enormous donation finally bear fruit this year? The excavation of Saint Dimitri’s relics has made progress.”

“If that’s true, Crowley’s domain is likely to get the cathedral. Saint Dimitri was from that region.”

“It’s not certain. Another good candidate could rise…”

Lionel wondered why the nobles were so passionate about building the cathedral. None seemed that devout.

‘Probably, it’s about money.’

The tone of those discussing Crowley’s business was tinged with envy. That meant Richard had achieved great success.

Meanwhile, the nobles, tired of business talk, shifted their gaze to Richard’s partner.

“By the way, Earl Crowley always chooses such beautiful women as companions.”

“Ah, isn’t that Lady Vivian? The second daughter of Earl Moro.”

“I heard she’s only lived in the North. How did she come all the way to the South? Earl Crowley is impressive.”

The noblewoman Richard brought, with brown hair, exuded elegance and dignity. Lionel glanced at her wax-pale face for a moment, then looked away.

To him, Lady Vivian wasn’t particularly striking. Clarette was much more attractive. Her skin was clearer, her gaze more intense, every expression—pensive, aloof, smiling—was lovely…

‘It’s a shame she’ll be late getting home. I’ll only see her tomorrow morning.’

As Lionel was lost in thoughts of Clarette alone in the annex, Lady Vivian, standing beside Richard, turned her gaze to Lionel. She stared at him with light brown eyes for a long time.

No, she was glaring at him.

‘…Wait, no way.’

Lionel felt a familiar sense of déjà vu and sighed inwardly.

It was an all-too-familiar look.

A woman’s gaze, filled with resentment and sorrow, as if asking why he betrayed her after winning her heart.

‘Of all places, here.’

As Lionel maintained a calm expression, letting Lady Vivian’s glare slide past,

“Duke Valentin! Are you feeling better?”

Richard, bringing Vivian, approached Lionel, saying something utterly pointless.