39

Sect 7. Lucia

The lecture on 'Continental History' was the most terrible time for Elena throughout her academic career.

Ren either listened or didn't listen to the professor's boring history lecture and stared only at Elena throughout the entire lecture. She tried to ignore him, but the fact was that he was too much of a burden.

"I'll finish the lecture here. Please investigate the background of the establishment of the Trilateral Alliance by next lecture."

After the lecture, she felt persistent in the eyes of Ren, who was only looking at Elena even after the professor left.

'Never mind. I can't ignore him.'

She would have ignored him so neatly in the past, but she couldn't now. While posing as Lucia, she met Ren, and she was forced to be conscious of him.

"Strange."

Ren, who was staring hard at Elena's face, muttered.

"Is it you, watching me alone during a lecture? Or me, pointing out such a you?"

"It's weird that Veronica is taking a lecture. You were going to die. You changed suddenly."

Elena rose from her chair, feeling that he was not even worthy of dealing with. She felt it was a waste of time to say such things.

Thud!

Suddenly, Ren pushed back his chair and stood up hard. Elena shivered her shoulders at the loud and threatening sound. Nevertheless, she tried not to lose her fortitude.

"Look, you're not scared."

"There's no reason to be scared, is there?"

Ren smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"You're just picking the right words again."

"That's enough. Let's stop."

Elena hurried out of the classroom, where Ren reached out his hand and blocked her. Elena looked away.

"Did you clean it up?"

"…"

"Can't you hear me?"

Ren also removed his hand and opened the way, as if he had not intended to keep blocking it.

"I'd never forget what Veronica would be like at times like this."

She managed her expression as if nothing had happened, but Elena could not hear it lightly.

'You still suspect me.'

Like the scar behind her ear, he could have given up, but Ren was insistent. Ren grinned and turned around, putting his hand in his pocket.

"It's chilly without a coat. Where am I going to find her?"

"…!"

Elena's heart sank when Ren said that to himself. She thought so, but it gave her goosebumps to think that he was looking for Lucia.

"This is the worst."

Elena stumbled and bit her lips looking at Ren who left the classroom. It was not easy to work freely as Lucia in a situation where Ren's attention was pouring in. Now, he can't connect Veronica to Lucia, but as the number of encounters increases, Ren would be quick to notice.

"It's best to avoid encounters as much as possible."

Elena made her way to the records room, reminding herself to be careful. She was worried about Ren's interest and suspicion, but that didn't mean she could just sit on her hands.

After finishing her disguise as Lucia, Elena left the library. Not knowing when and where she would meet Ren, she moved stealthily, looking around with her eyes wide open. Fortunately, her efforts were successful, and she was able to safely enter the west annex of the academy without meeting Ren.

"He won't be there."

The faculty, which was mainly made up of commoners, also decided on the location, but since it was located on the opposite side of the swordsmanship faculty to which Ren belonged, the chances of running into him here were slim.

Now, she arrived at Raphael's studio, smelling the stale smell of the underground corridor.

"Senior, I'm here."

Elena greeted by acting like a live freshman.

"Miss Lucia?"

Raphael's voice was locked beyond the easel, and the dark circles were down to his chin, as if he were badly hurt.

"Y-you're alive, right?"

"So far. But I don't know if that will continue."

Raphael's face was as pale as a corpse, responding vaguely.

"What kind of joke is so dark? What the hell is going on? Are you sure you're okay?"

Elena's gaze, anxious, turned to the floor of the studio. Raphael's artistic anguish was felt on the crumpled and torn canvas.

'Can't you do what you want?'

Currently, Raphael's painting was at a standstill. With Elena's help, he had succeeded in the technical part of the painting, but the essence of the painting was still being blocked.

"I was so frustrated that I made a big fuss. Like a kid. Miss Lucia is better, right?"

"Me? Oh, yes. As you can see, I'm better."

It seems that he heard about Elena's fall through Cecilia.

"That's good to hear. I was very worried."

"I was a little dizzy. I got better soon after the break."

Elena smiled brightly as if to prove that she was all better.

"Do you know you look worse than I do?"

"It's not that bad. I've been washing my face. Don't be too worried."

Raphael laughed bitterly. He looked like he had put on some years over the week.

"Don't be so impatient. Sometimes indifferent times give answers rather than passion or effort."

"Time…"

Raphael stared at Elena, who gave advice. Sometimes when he saw the girl who seemed to be more familiar with the world than a professor of philosophy, he was often surprised.

"Why are you staring at me like that? I just noticed."

It was Elena who felt uncomfortable even in Raphael's gaze, who was staring at her without a word, perhaps because she was suffering from Ren.

"Oh, it's habitual. Sorry for staring."

"Don't apologize too politely. I feel pressured!"

When Elena relaxed the atmosphere by waving her hands, Raphael smiled lightly. At this moment, he was able to free away from the agony of squeezing his brain.

"I just thought… I wanted to see Miss Lucia's painting."

"My, my painting?"

Elena was quite embarrassed because it was unexpected. On the other hand, she felt that it was something that had to come. It was natural for him to be curious because she had pretended to know about painting so far.

"Oh, I just thought of it. A passing thought."

Elena thought about it for a second. If she could help overcome the slump, she wanted to help even if she lacked skills.

"I'll try painting."

Raphael's eyes grew bigger. Although he felt sorry for putting pressure on her by asking too much, he could not hide his expectations.

"If it's because of me, you don't have to…"

Elena shook her head firmly. She wanted to express for sure that she wasn't being pushed to draw.

"I'm drawing because I want to. Don't tease me even if I'm bad at painting. Okay?"

Elena grinned.

"…"

However, Elena was at a loss when she faced the white canvas. It was not even possible to know what and where to fill this white paper as vast as the sea.

'What should I draw?'

What comes to mind right away was imitation. While she was under Raphael's tutelage, she had studied the masterpieces of several painters who had started the Renaissance revival by painting them as they were. She thought that since the paintings had been mastered through a process of repetition, they would still be of a good standard when painted now.

'Suppose I do. What would it mean?'

Elena glanced at Raphael reading while sitting in the distance, in case he might get in the way. The reason she took the brush she had put back was to help Raphael, who still couldn't contain his soul in his work.

'An imitation is just an imitation. It won't help him.'

It may surprise Raphael, but not give him realization. If that's the case, she didn't even have to paint.

'I have to paint my own picture.'

Elena made a decision and closed her eyes. Fragments of her memories of her life fluttered in her mind. When she lifted the pieces, when she was happy, when she was sad, when she was lonely, when she was miserable, when she was excited… all the emotions she had experienced in her life were permeated.

Elena was repeatedly drawn to the most damaged fragment in her memory. It was the only thing she didn't want to explore again, but she couldn't help the way her mind kept turning to it.

She forced herself to turn away, she forced herself to forget, she forced herself to comfort. Then she stumbled upon the man she loved and hated, and the fragments of her memory came to life again. She tried to push it away, but she couldn't avoid it any longer. It was hard, hard to even think about it, but Elena mustered up the courage. She decided to face it and not hide any longer.

Elena grabbed the brush. She transferred the oil feeling to the palette, and without hesitation, she picked up the brush and took it on the canvas. At this moment, Elena had no time for reason to squeeze in. She skipped the sketches and concentrated on facing the work from the inside and transferring it as it was.

Techniques? Definitely learned. But she forgot. In order to express feelings properly, technical expressions must be properly harmonized, but even that was ignored.

'Ah.'

Elena fell into a trance into the painting. At this moment, she was more lonely than anyone else. There was only the canvas, brushes, oil paints, and she.