Chapter 03 Three days later, I quarrelled with my husband and rushed out of the mansion.
Even though I said we"d quarrelled, he was lecturing me about my bad behaviour and about how I wasted money at Charmes Mondt. The lecture would have ended if I"d just obediently apologised to him, but I acted in a sulky manner instead. I snapped at my husband, who was trying to talk calmly until the end.
In the end, I shouted a terrible remark, "I"m going to find my lover to comfort me!" as I violently slammed his study door shut. I actually had an appointment with said lover in the afternoon, so I used that as an excuse.
When I left the study and returned to my room, I ordered Lene to prepare the carriage and had Claire help me get ready.
When Lene left, I didn"t express my usual displeasure, nor did I start chatting friendly with Claire since Lene would become suspicious upon her return if the mood in the room was different than usual. I didn"t talk much and only exchanged the occasional glance with Claire.
She did my hair and make-up, then I wore a light crimson dress and a flowery hat that had a ribbon which was embroidered with white flowers. My sombre appearance looked somewhat better because of my bright and gorgeous dress.
Claire quietly praised me, "You look nice, Madam," so I thanked her. I maintained my straight face and declared, "I"m going to put on a good show," before leaving the room.
Claire was staying behind, and only Lene would be accompanying me.
My destination was the studio apartment where my lover, Claude Ritter, lives.
Actually, my husband had just pressed me to end my relationship with my lover just moments ago, so I thought that the butler would stop me, but surprisingly, I was able to leave easily.
The carriage shook, and I cheered up as I stared at the roadside trees. The silence inside of the carriage, which contained only Lene and me, didn"t bother me at all.
That was how much I was looking forward to seeing Claude.
It didn"t take long to get from the mansion on the outskirts of Nabel to the apartment complex where Claude lived; it only took 30 minutes.
He used to live further away but moved closer because I had complained about the distance.
Claude"s building was a stylish brick building along the street, and his studio was on the first floor.
The door opened a while after Lene rang the doorbell, and the resident of the studio appeared.
Claude Ritter is a good-looking man with soft, cat-like blonde hair, which at a glimpse looked as if he had just gotten out of bed, and green eyes. ――― He is the man who is rumoured to be my lover.
He had just been drawing a while ago and had on a white shirt with black trousers. Brushes in various colours were stuffed into his ap.r.o.n.
"How do you do, Claude?"
"Well if it isn"t Lady Rosenberg."
Claude looked disgusted as soon as he saw me. His slightly twitching mouth was also a reaction that I always get from him.
The rumours were that he was accompanying his patron, Countess Rosenberg, against his will, and that he was compelled to accompany a selfish woman who was younger than him because she had given him financial support before.
Because of those rumours, people in high society ridiculed Countess Rosenberg saying both her lover and husband hate her.
"Aah! I wanted to see you, Claude!"
I pushed Lene out of the way and hugged Claude, and he shivered and froze as if he was shocked.
It was probably unpleasant to be touched by me. A firm voice sounded from above my head, "Countess Rosenberg…"
Claude separated himself from me. I put my hands on his shoulders, which were slender for a man, and looked up at him. Claude"s poker-face didn"t crumble, and he looked down at me with eyes that hid his discomfort.
I knew that this behaviour wasn"t accepted by others, but I didn"t care and acted coquettishly.
"Come on, Claude. Don"t I always tell you to call me Ophelia?"
"… I"m sorry, Ophelia."
"It"s fine if you get it."
I clung to Claude"s arm, and went inside his house without asking for permission as if it was my own house.
His room didn"t have many things in it, and sunlight poured in through the big window, and the peculiar smell of oil paint drifted in the air.
This studio was also his living room, and on one side was his kitchen and the other his bedroom. It wasn"t too big nor too small, and it was perfect for living alone.
I rudely looked around his room and peeked at the still-life painting that was placed in the middle of the room before turning back to look at Claude, who stood idly at the entrance.
"How is living here? Do you need anything?" I always say these words whenever I visit this apartment.
Claude sluggishly shook his head and said monotonously, "I"m living comfortably thanks to you."
"Really? Then that"s fine. Tell me right away if you"re having trouble or need anything. I"ll deal with it."
Claude silently lowered his head. His indifferent att.i.tude and the way how his expression doesn"t change really resembles that person.
I looked around the room again and noticed Lene standing in the corner like a shadow.
I have already shown her how affectionate I am towards my lover, so isn"t it about time for her to leave this cramped room? Most of all, I can"t have an intimate conversation with Claude while she"s still in the room.
"Say, Claude. I don"t want to leave you today. Something terrible happened, so can I stay over?"
I walked over to Claude and crossed his arms with mine.
Claude frowned, and his face showed his inner feelings which said, "You would trouble me if you stay over."
But it didn"t matter how he was feeling inside, I am his important patron. He couldn"t bluntly refuse and nodded reluctantly instead.
"That"s how it is, so you can leave. Come pick me up tomorrow around noon." I smugly turned to look at Lene and said as if I had won for no particular reason.
Lene bowed and said, "Understood," before leaving the room.
The door quietly closed, and it was just the two of us.
Claude, who had hardly spoken and looked sour up into this point, burst out in laughter as if he couldn"t hold it back anymore.
"Aahaahaahaa!" He held onto his stomach while laughing. It was a cheerful laughter that made it seem like his displeasure had been a lie.
"Phelia, you"ve gotten better at acting. Especially your att.i.tude towards the servant! It was amazing. Uh-huh, you were quite arrogant."
"Thank you for your compliment."
People whisper rumours about how Countess Rosenstein fell into an unrequited love with an up-and-coming painter, and that she forced him to be her lover because she had given him financial support in the past.
However, the facts are different. I am providing financial support to him so that he could continue as a painter, but I have never forced him to be in a s.e.xual relationship, nor have I ever wanted to.
He is like a friend to me, plus his love affairs are limited to those of the same s.e.x. So no matter what people suspect of us, we can never have that kind of relationship.
Most importantly, I already have someone I love. The love I have for that person is so endlessly deep that even being self-sacrificing isn"t painful, and I am confident that even if a ravishing young man tries to woo me, I would never be swayed.
Claude is a good man, but he is only a friend; nothing more, nothing less.
"I took your advice. I"m loathed in the Rosenberg House now thanks to that, even the servants don"t want to look me in the eyes. Of course, the general public also views me in the same way." I didn"t say this in my domineering high-pitched tone, but in my natural low voice.
The forced smile that was usually plastered on my face was also gone, and my expression was blanker than the one Claude had on before.
Actually, this is my real face, and I am bad at expressing my emotions on my face, let alone smile.
When I lived at my parent"s house, I was as blank as a mask and people feared me because they said that I don"t have any human emotions.
I could fake my smile because I trained until I bled.
Countess Rosenberg, who curses people and never loses sleep over anything people say about her, is a result of my acting, which I perfected from careful research and observations.
"I"m sure you went all-out because it"s you. It"s enough to ruin a beauty."
Claude Ritter isn"t a n.o.ble; he"s only a painter.
In spite of this, he doesn"t use honorifics when talking to me, his investor, because I asked him not to.
The reasons were that he is older than me, and I respect him, and I didn"t want my friends to be mindful when they are around me.
At first, he had declined in horror, but after asking him many times, he gradually changed how he spoke to me and speaks to me in a friendly tone now.
"If I have to do it, then I"m going to do it properly. Also, I always say this, but unfortunately, I"m not a beauty."
"You do always say that, but you are beautiful."
I understand how mediocre my appearance is, so I don"t go over the moon over simple flattery.
"If you want something, then I"ll get it for you even without such flatteries."
"No, I don"t want anything. I"m not flattering you. I"m being honest. You"re gorgeous."
―――Is that really so?
Claude noticed my confused gaze and suddenly smiled gently.
His green eyes were filled with undeniable affection, and it felt as if my tattered heart was being gently caressed.
"You"re the only one who says that." I, who was happy that he had been honest, said in a charmless tone to hide my embarra.s.sment.
"Really? Well, whatever. You won"t believe me no matter what I say. Anyway, take off that gaudy hat and sit down. I"ll make some tea."
"Uh, Claude…" I said hesitantly when Claude was about to go to the kitchen.
"What is it?"
"Can I really stay here tonight? I can leave if you don"t want me here."
He had already said that I can stay, but I"m worried about being a nuisance. If I am, then I don"t mind staying at a nearby hotel for the night.
Lene has probably already reported to my husband that I would be staying the night with my lover, so my goal has already been accomplished.
However, Claude widened his eyes in surprise and said, "What"re you saying, Phelia?"
"Of course you can stay over. You"re my friend, so you don"t have to be shy. I"m sure there are lots of things you want to talk about, and I also want to hear about them. You have your nightgown and a change of clothes. I"ll also help you change, so it"s fine, right?"
"I can change by myself but are you free? Are you sure I can stay over tonight?"
"Of course. You have things you want to talk about, right? Why don"t we talk all night?"
――― Friend.
I was pleased that he had called me that and my heart got a little warmer.
Yes, we are friends.
Claude is one of my few friends and a collaborator. The only person who knows about my feelings.
"Thanks, Claude."
"You"re welcome."
Claude cheerfully waved his hand, and my tension became lighter.
――― This person always saves me.
I thought, once again.
Claude and I met half a year ago at the public painting exhibition organised by the seventh Prince of the Kingdom of Valkenburg.
At that time, Claude was a fledgeling painter, and he exhibited his unique avant-garde work, which is quite different from the mainstream realism paintings, at the exhibition.
A G.o.ddess bathing in a fountain in the middle of a forest.
His work, which became highly acclaimed later on, was quite unpopular on the first day of the exhibition. Everyone criticised it, "It"s a primitive and crude painting," and "It looks as if this was painted by an amateur who knew nothing about painting."
However, I didn"t think that.
I couldn"t move from my spot the moment I saw his painting.
The trees and plants that were painted delicately over time looked as if they were rough. Even as an abstract, the G.o.ddess who exposed her body was beautiful and charming. The adorable animals flocking around the G.o.ddess.
I thought that it was a beautiful painting. I was utterly fascinated by it in an instant.
When I came back to my senses, I pushed through the crowd to look for the person who had created that painting. It was the first day of the exhibition, and I was sure that the painter would come to observe the painting they"d exhibited.
I walked around the hall with Claire and asked people if they had seen the person who had painted that painting. Then, Claude came to find me, probably because he had heard that I was looking for him.
Claude Ritter was a young man in his early twenties.
His wrinkled shirt and frayed trousers seemed really out of place in a room filled with dressed-up ladies and gentlemen, and it was easy to imagine that he would never be rich in life.
He couldn"t hide his vigilance towards me, and he looked dubious. He had probably thought, "What does this young n.o.ble woman want with a fledgeling artist like me?"
I was excited and paid no heed to his att.i.tude. After a brief introduction, I went straight into what I thought of his painting.
『I fell in love with your painting. If you don"t mind, I would like to help you to continue to bring these beautiful works out into the world.』
Claude looked flabbergasted; probably because he never imagined that this would happen, or he might have just thought I was crazy.
It was normal for people to get confused if a young girl said such a thing on a first meeting. He must be thinking, "What is she thinking? What does she want?"
At that time, I had no intention of making him my 『lover』.
I was just genuinely fascinated by his painting and wanted to help him create more.
Back then, I still hadn"t wasted money. I saved the generous allowance that my husband had given me and had barely spent any of it.
At any rate, I hadn"t wasted money and had wanted to use it for something meaningful, which was what supporting this artist was.
To be more convincing, I desperately told him how great that painting was and how shocked I was by it. I suggested that I wanted to see his other works and that I would buy them if I liked them.
He was a handsome man, but he wasn"t interested in his appearance and didn"t have any ulterior motives. I would have probably made him the same offer even if he had a face that people didn"t want to see twice.
At that moment, all I was evaluating was his talent as a painter.
Claude listened seriously as I blabbered on and on, and thanked me many times. And whether it was because it was troublesome to refuse a persistent person, or if it was because he was moved by my pa.s.sion, ――― I don"t know which; but although he had declined my offer at first, he agreed in the end and let me be his patron.
At first, I had only pa.s.sed his money to the servants, but then I started to go to all his exhibitions, and I started to talk to him more.
Our relationship had been neutral at first, but then he invited me to his studio to see a painting he was working on. From then on, I started to visit him more regularly, and we got to know each other better.
Claude was a mysterious person, and he didn"t see me as a woman even though he was the target of my rumoured love affair.
Perhaps because of that, I didn"t get nervous whenever I was in the same room as him, and I always feel at ease when we are together. It was like we had been friends for a very long time.
It wasn"t awkward even if there was a momentary pause in our conversation or if there was a long silence.
At one point, I revealed my mixed feelings towards my husband.
Claude didn"t laugh at my foolish thoughts. He listened to me seriously, and he was worried about me. "You won"t be happy like this," and "Is there no other way?" He"d said. And finally, he even said that he would help me.
『It"s thanks to you that I can draw, so I want to help you.』
I was happy with just those words.
And most of all, Claude is an important friend to me. I couldn"t use my precious friend for a purpose that I thought was moronic.
I refused many times when he said that, but he didn"t budge. He even took on the role of my lover so that people would undermine my reputation.
Even though his reputation also dropped at the same time.
"Enough of that. From what I can tell, it seems to be going well. You waste money, gamble, treat the servants badly and even got a lover. To make matters worse, you defy your husband. You"re nearly the perfect immoral woman. Lord Rosenstein is really patient with you," Claude said, his voice tingling with laughter, as he stirred the tea with a silver spoon after I had explained that I had been lectured by my husband.
I had been gazing at the canvas in the corner of the room, but I looked back at Claude, who was sitting across from me and nodded.
"Yes, I think so too. He is a very patient man."
"If he does divorce you…" Claude suddenly said while looking serious, "… then come here. I"ve said this many times, but I can feed you and even pay you wages."
"As an a.s.sistant?"
"Not an a.s.sistant, you"ll be the help."
I married into the Rosenberg family as a political tool, and would not be permitted to return home if I don"t accomplish my role. But then again, I never want to go back to that house.
I am prepared to enter a monastery or fall into prost.i.tution after he divorces me, but Claude said that he would take me in when he found out about this.
Unlike when we first met, Claude has become a well-known painter and now earns a decent living even without my investment. It was simple for him to at least hire one servant.
"Then I"ll have to diligently work on my sewing and cooking."
"What about cleaning and laundry?"
"I"m confident with that, especially when it comes to sweeping fallen leaves. ――― You don"t have a garden, so I won"t get the chance to show you my skills. And I can do the prep work for food like plucking chickens and draining their blood."
"I think that"s good enough."
"No, it"s not. I have to do my job well because you"ll be hiring me."
Claude stared at me and then suddenly laughed.
"Did I say something strange?"
"Nope, you didn"t."
He put his hand over his mouth and tried desperately to hold his laughter down.
This happens sometimes. He would suddenly laugh after I say what"s on my mind.
My naïve remarks might be amusing.
I tilted my head while wondering what I had done this time, and Claude whispered, "Oh, I really ―――…"
"What?"
"Have a lot of fun when I"m with you."
When I heard that I felt strange; happy, but extremely hurt.
There weren"t many people who acknowledge my existence like this.
This was also true before I put on my act as a selfish, domineering, and arrogant woman. I am always hated. Even my father neglected me. My half-sister also hates me.
After marrying into the Rosenberg House, the servants looked at me coldly and even my husband ―――.
"Thanks, Claude," I said as if to block the emotions that were swelling up inside me.
"You have really saved me. Thanks."
I was vexed because I could only express my thoughts and emotions with these common words.
Still, Claude said to me with a soft and dazzling smile, "You"re welcome."
Translator: Blushy
Editor: delishnoodles