Portrait of An Arrogant Master - Chapter 7
“If it hurts, we don’t have to continue. I didn’t realize touching the name would be painful since I didn’t feel anything when mine was touched.”
Macy withdrew her hand, and he finally took a deep breath and spoke.
“Really… You don’t know what happens when a destined name’s master touches the letters?”
“What happens?”
Was there something she was unaware of? No matter how much she thought about it, Macy had no knowledge of any special effects related to this.
“Should I call this naivety or ignorance?”
“Yes?”
“Never mind. Just finish checking. It’s important for you to verify that your name is written on my body.”
He stubbornly guided her hand back to his back. Despite her intentions, it seemed things were going awry, but she still wanted to thoroughly check the name.
“….Please bear with it a little longer. I’ll be quick.”
When she touched him again, his skin felt slightly warmer. The area around the name was rough and warm to the touch.
This was the first time she was touching a name that wasn’t hers. The characters of his name were thicker and more sharply etched than hers. Even her gentle touches seemed to make his muscles twitch as if alive, and sweat began to form on his back.
“Ah…”
His breathing was heavy and moist. It was raw with some kind of visceral yearning.
She couldn’t tell why such a robust body would tremble from her touch, but it was clear it was a profound stimulus for him…
Despite feeling like she was committing a terrible act, Macy forced herself to ignore it and finished her verification.
“It’s done.”
His back clearly bore the name ‘Macy Horton’.
“I’ll get up first.”
“You should get dressed before you leave!”
The sound of the door closing followed. When she removed the blindfold, Eren and his clothes were no longer in the room. It seemed he had either picked them up on his way out or dressed as he left.
‘Why the hurry…’
Perhaps being with Macy had been highly displeasurable for him. The sound of his suppressed breathing still bothered her. The fireplace had dimmed as if about to die out, yet the room didn’t feel cold.
Instead, a gentle warmth seemed to envelop her, making her feel uncomfortably hot.
‘Something is off…’
The rough texture that had touched her fingertips was still vivid in her mind, along with his breathing and tremors. Until just moments ago, she had thought that making contact with the name’s master would feel inconsequential…
But …. it wasn’t entirely insignificant.
* * *
The name treatment had a profound effect. Within just three months, Macy not only regained her ability to paint but could also walk on her own.
However, since she had once stiffened, there was a possibility she could revert to her previous state after three months. Thus, the hierarchical relationship between her and Eren remained unchanged.
“Still, this is satisfactory. It’s fortunate. It seems I’m not entirely unlucky.”
On the other hand, for Eren Wood, her name master, the treatment seemed less effective.
After their first session, they met again after two weeks, then after five days, and eventually, the intervals shortened to every other day. Although she felt sorry for him, it was a relief for Macy, who had significantly advanced stiffness.
“Macy, eat this.”
While Macy was busy painting in her studio, Catherine brought her a tray with food. It was bread that was had made in the morning.
“Thank you.”
“What are you painting?”
Catherine showed interest as she moved to sit by the easel.
“A still life.”
Macy answered briefly and set her palette down on the chair.
“Sister, I’ll come and get things myself next time. And please, try not to enter the studio. It breaks my concentration when you suddenly come in. I’ll take care of cleaning the studio from now on.”
“Really? Okay then. Sorry about that. I’ll leave now.”
Catherine, looking awkward, left the room with the empty tray.
There was a time when they used to chat occasionally when their relationship was good, but now Macy didn’t want to be close to her.
The unfamiliar jewelry dangling from Catherine’s neck now irritated her.
‘That accessories must have been bought with the money from selling my paintings.’
She still remembered how shabbily Catherine had been dressed when Yannick first introduced her. Before marrying Yannick, Catherine had been a poor farmer’s daughter.
Now, Catherine’s room overflowed with lavish dresses, contrasting sharply with Macy’s modest 17 meter square studio.
Despite still being of common birth, she had become the lady of a house that employed three maids.
