Portrait of An Arrogant Master - Chapter 32
The voice was cold, yet pure, like it was untouched by any impurity. It had a lazy tone, but it had the power to freeze a person’s nerves.
Eren tended to be direct with his words, yet he had a similar air of indifference. That calm demeanor had made her suspect he was of high status…
‘No way…It must be because they’re both high-ranking individuals. Wealthy merchants and nobles often share those traits.’
It couldn’t be possible that such a ruthless man was Eren. Her impression of the man on the Romansi Bridge had been accurate; he was cruel and cold. Just because someone appeared noble didn’t mean their character matched.
‘And Eren said he was poor when he was young.’
Duke Krygen was born with a diamond-studded life. Besides, the most crucial point was that their names were different.
‘I must never cross paths with him again.’
She shook her head, dismissing the thoughts as unnecessary. She wondered if today’s memories would haunt her dreams.
She walked on unsteady feet, the image of the sharp, blood-tipped blade haunting her mind.
* * *
Macy found herself at the Laden marketplace.
With the sun setting, merchants were selling off leftover fruits at a discount or packing up their goods. She walked slowly, trying to avoid bumping into people, and soon stopped in front of a stall that emanated a vibrant and fragrant aroma.
“Hi, Hils…”
“Macy?”
Hils’ shop was in the outskirts, where there were few people around.
His father usually tended the shop while Hils managed stalls in various marketplaces. Hils seemed surprised by her sudden visit, his mouth opening in shock before he quickly stepped out from behind the stall to check on her.
“Is something wrong? You don’t look well.”
“I’m sorry for coming so suddenly.”
“Never mind that. What happened? Is something wrong?”
He knew about her situation and the plans she had been making recently.
“It’s just…”
Macy poured out the events of the day to Hils. As the story grew longer, Hils sat her down on a wooden chair, listening intently to her story.
His expression shifted with each detail, and soon, he was fuming like a raging rhinoceros.
“Is Brother Yannick out of his mind? He’s the one who messed up, and now he’s trying to blame you? Unbelievable, that scumbag. I swear, if I could get my hands on him!”
“Hils, calm down!”
He looked like he was ready to storm over to Yannick’s house immediately. Macy grabbed his arm, pulling him back into his seat.
“I should’ve stopped him earlier… If I had known it’d be late, I wouldn’t have gone there.”
“It’s not your fault, Macy. He’s the one who’s crazy.”
“Thanks for getting angry on my behalf. But now I’m in a bit of a tough spot. Do you know of any place I could stay? Maybe the warehouse where we keep the paintings?”
The reason Macy had come to Hils wasn’t just for his empathy. While she appreciated his shared anger, she was penniless and needed a place to stay for the night.
“The warehouse? You can’t stay in a warehouse. Come to my house instead. If I explain your situation, my father will surely understand.”
“No, if I go there, my brother will find out where I am, and it’ll be a burden on your family. I just need a place to sleep.”
“Macy…”
Hils trailed off, looking genuinely concerned.
Asking for more would be a burden. Hils had already helped her so much. Even suddenly showing up like this made her feel guilty. So, asking for more would be too much, even between friends.
“Alright… If that’s what you want. But if the warehouse is too uncomfortable, let me know. I’ll find you a room nearby.”
“Thank you so much. The warehouse will be perfect. I won’t forget this kindness.”
Though he seemed reluctant, Hils agreed to Macy’s request. After packing up the stall, they moved to the warehouse behind Hils’ shop.
“Here’s the key. Go on ahead. I’ll grab a few things and meet you there.”
“Got it.”
Even though the trees between the shop and the warehouse would hide her from sight, Macy still crept quietly, wary of running into Hills’ father.
Soon, she reached the brick-built warehouse. She flicked the switch by the door, and the interior lit up brightly.
The space was about the size of Macy’s studio, but it was filled with soil, saplings, seeds, and her paintings, leaving just enough room for one person to lie down.
She had to stay alone in this cramped, stark place now.
“Haha…”
Still, the thought of not having to return to that hellish house made her chuckle.
* * *
A haze of cigar smoke filled the office.
Rubens gazed intently at two paintings with a low, brooding stare.
One was a painting he had acquired from a gallery, credited to Yannick Horton, and the other was the one he had recently slashed.
‘I knew something was off.’
