Portrait of An Arrogant Master - Chapter 76
As soon as she turned around, something hit her head hard. For a moment, her balance was disrupted, and her body swayed. In that instant, her arm was caught. A firm hand on her back steadied her.
“Oh! Duke…”
When she opened her squinting eyes, the person she had been searching for was right in front of her. Duke Krygen, holding a cigar in his mouth, was keeping Macy from falling.
“I-I’m so sorry!”
Realizing she was almost in his arms, Macy quickly pulled away. The Duke released her without a word. Her heart pounded with the embarrassment of having made another mistake in front of him.
“I’m really sorry, Your Grace! I was so startled. I almost fell while trying to catch up with you, so…”
But what’s that smell?
As Macy was nervously explaining, she suddenly became aware of the scent filling the air.
“What.”
Duke Krygen spoke in a stern tone, and a faint smoke rose from his cigar. The smoke drifted like waves towards Macy. A bitter, sea-like aroma mixed with the scent of the cigar—an oddly familiar smell…
The pungent aroma made her head spin, yet it was so alluring that she felt compelled to inhale more.
“What is the reason you followed me?”
Why is Duke Krygen smoking the same cigar as Eren?
“I was hoping you could spare some time for the portrait. I’ve visited the Duke’s residence several times, but each time you were too busy to meet.”
But, to think that someone with a similar voice would also smoke the same cigars….Macy found herself distracted, struggling to focus on the conversation.
“If there’s a problem with the portrait work, you could speak to Lady Werfel.”
“Well….Lady Werfel’s is almost finished, but I still need to complete the Duke’s…”
“Isn’t it sufficient that I didn’t need to pose?”
“Pardon?”
Macy stared at him with wide eyes, unable to understand his words for a moment. The Duke looked back at her with an indifferent gaze.
“The boating scene seemed to be completed with just one look, but this time it wasn’t enough?”
Ah, that happened before. He had looked at her with the same kind of gaze then. He had looked up at her then, and now he was looking down.
And now the distance between them was uncomfortably close. She could count the Duke’s jet-black hair and surprisingly long eyelashes. Realizing this, Macy felt a surge of anxiety and tension.
Moreover, the Duke believed that Macy had painted the portrait in question.
Given that he viewed the painting with disdain, she feared that if she didn’t remain composed and respond carefully, the mistakes of that day might resurface.
“Come to think of it, I didn’t have the chance to apologize for that day. I’m sorry, Your Grace. I was—”
“Did you hear? Macy Horton is leaving today.”
Thinking it best to start with an apology, Macy began to speak, but then she heard voices behind the sculpture. Looking over, she saw two of the outing painters passing by, talking about her.
“I heard there’s been a flood of requests for noble portraits lately. She must have made some money.”
“They say her name master provides for both her home and living expenses, so there’s no real need for her to paint.”
The painters knew the rumor that Macy was dependent on her name master.
“Yeah, I noticed she was trying to show off as a painter from the beginning. What’s she doing out and about when she should be cooped up at home?”
“I said the same when she first came here. She seemed more suited to being a nude model than a painter. It’s a bit disappointing she’s quitting, though. I bet if you gave her some money, she’d strip for you.”
“I heard her name master is quite wealthy. If not, he’s a noble, so a bit of money wouldn’t matter to him.”
“A high-class courtesan, indeed. If that’s a talent, then it’s a talent.”
Macy’s face flushed red with shame and anger. She had suspected that they spoke ill of her behind her back, but she hadn’t expected this level of disparagement. Her clenched fists trembled with rage, while the Duke continued to look down at her with a blank expression.
“Then, that rumor about her being Yannick Horton’s ghost painter is false?”
“Of course! The nobles must be misinformed. How could someone who has never even been chosen for an outing painting be Yannick Horton’s ghost painter? Even a passing dog would laugh.”
The conversation gradually faded away. Macy bowed her head deeply.
She was overwhelmed with embarrassment and shame that she was unable to lift her head.
