40

"…"

Raphael came up behind her before he knew it, watching over her brushwork, unable to take his eyes off her. Elena concentrated for what seemed like only a few moments, a moment at a time. Then the brushwork, which seemed to never stop, quieted.

Elena could not take her eyes off the painting with her palette and brush down.

Tuk.

And she shed tears. They were tears of longing that were more touching than sadness or pain.

'Ian, it's Mom.'

The portrait painted on the canvas was Ian, the only son born to her and Sian. When she faced the dead inside her canvas, the feelings she had kept repressed came up.

'Mom is sorry. I'm sorry I tried to forget you…'

Elena, who returned, buried Ian, who was never born, in her heart. She tried not to rationalize and remember him, saying he was better on the other side. No parent in the world would ever forget their child.

Yeah, Elena forced herself to turn a blind eye. The mere thought of Ian hurt so much that she couldn't stand it. Whenever she thought of Ian, she thought of her husband, Sian, who hurt her, and she felt like she was going to collapse.

But now it was different. Instead of forgetting, she would remember. Instead of turning away, she would cherish it. Even though she would never see him again, she would not hold it to her heart, but simply look at it. Because she was his mother.

"M-Miss Lucia."

When Elena burst into tears, Raphael was embarrassed because he didn't know how to comfort her.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I got so emotional that I didn't even realize I was acting ugly."

Elena, who came from the height of her emotions, faced the picture she drew. Although it could only be seen as a portrait, she could smile painfully at Ian.

"He's a brighter kid with a smile, but I'm so bad at drawing."

"…"

"The composition and coloring are terrible. I drew it because I was so immersed in my feelings. I don't think I can help. What should I do?"

Elena laughed bitterly. The painting was drawn to help Raphael a little. But she felt sorry for drawing a picture of herself facing and healing herself.

"Oh. It's too messy to see it again. I can't do this anymore because I'm shy. I want to run away."

Elena hurriedly took off her apron and robe and left the studio as if she was really running away.

"H-hold on."

"Next time. I can't look at your face."

Raphael chased and tried to catch her, but Elena ran out of the hallway earlier. Raphael returned to the studio as if he had no choice but to face Ian's portrait, which Elena had painted.

"…"

To evaluate Elena's portrait in a sober manner, it was like an apprentice in a drawing room. She has a basic sense and skill, but she can't use advanced techniques, so the expression of the painting has fallen off. Nevertheless, Raphael could not take his eyes off the painting.

"I think I know a little bit."

He watched Elena's painting process from start to finish. He couldn't forget the tears she shed. The process was a work that contained a part of the soul that a human had lived with.

"What's the real picture? What do I lack?"

Raphael could not leave the front of the portrait for a long time. This painting, which Elena left behind, was a masterpiece and a guidebook for Raphael.

***

Elena couldn't find the studio for some time. It was embarrassing to think that whenever she had made a fuss about a painting, she had made a bad one. Her face still burned when she thought about the ugly way she had cried when she couldn't control her emotions.

"… But I was happy. I can see you again."

It may have been a messy painting, but it contained all of Ian, whom Elena remembers. The happiness of waiting in the stomach for 10 months. The unfamiliar joy that she felt when she cried in the product after giving birth. There was no day after Ian was born that was not brilliantly beautiful to Elena.

She failed to protect Ian. She couldn't dare to imagine the depths of desperate remorse. So, she buried him. No, she turned away. It was a rationalization for her way of life.

"Ian, even if the world forgets everything, your mom will remember you."

That was enough. Ian would live in Elena's memory forever.

"I'm starting to need help from the outside."

Returning to reality, Elena reversed what had been done so far. May succeeded in imprinting L's name on the masters of the time. If she continued to provide periodic support, the day was not far off when they would consider herself a benefactor. In order to do so, she needed someone to help them, not May, but someone who could control and manage them professionally on the outside.

"Hm, he's the most useful…"

Before leaving the Duchy, Elena had considered someone. As he was attending an academic institution by chance, it was appropriate to recruit him.

Elena decided to disguise herself as Lucia and move her. There was the risk factor of Ren, but she decided that it was better than approaching him blatantly in the identity of Princess Veronica. It was important to win hearts and minds, to trust and obey with all your heart, but sometimes a partner who shares your interests through trade is more trustworthy. The helper she was going to see now was the latter.

Elena, who stopped by the record room and dressed up, left the library, looking around as if she was tapping on the stone bridge.

"It was the humanities department, wasn't it?"

Elena had only seen him once in her past life. It was when she visited the Vatican, the headquarters of the Gaia Church, to pray for Ian's childbirth. There, he was coordinating on behalf of Randol, the architect of the age, over the formulation of a budget for the construction of the cathedral requested by the Pope.

At the time, Elena didn't really understand him. She wondered why Randol would send an agent to do things, instead of coming directly, drawing up a budget with the Pope, and accepting the commission. That bothered her so much that she visited him and he replied.

"I am a broker. When artists are blinded by money, they can't do art. Instead, it is my job to help them focus on their work."

It was a fresh shock. Until now, the general form of the art world was to divide the proceeds of the sale of works of art on the condition of receiving the patronage of the nobility. In the middle, art dealers would buy the works of art and sell them to collectors, aristocrats, or royalty for an additional fee. He called himself a broker.

The art broker Khalif.

Looking back now, it was clear that what he did was a job ahead of the times.

"That's for later. For now, he's a ruffian with a well-groomed face who thinks he can live off a woman and the intrigues of her family."

The academy, where the humanities-related faculties were concentrated, the percentage of female students was overwhelmingly high. This is because there are many faculties in the education and management series, which are favored by commoners and ladies from the lower nobility, all of whom graduate from the academy.

Among them, there were liberal arts departments for stupid and vain high-class aristocrats. It was literally a department that existed to give diplomas, and was far from particularly academic.

Elena thought that Khalif was hanging around here somewhere. Khalif, who came from a fallen family, had used the rest of his family's wealth to pay for his studies at the academy. In such a case, most people would use their studies as a foundation to find a way to live after graduation, but not Khalif. He put his will on it. Marriage. He thought that seducing and grooming a woman from a family with no deficit would be the success of a lifetime.

In the end, the Khalif did what he wanted. He married a young girl after graduation, who had been ostracized even in the academic institute for her poor appearance.

"That's it. In a short time, the land went bankrupt."

Two years later, a terrible drought strikes, and Khalif's wife's family falls so low that they can't even maintain a lifeline. His dreams ended up being a passing fancy, and Khalif entered the art world to survive. As an eloquent speaker, he charmed the hearts and minds of artists and became increasingly famous for his ability to represent their interests.

Elena noticed Khalif because he was a man of ability but trust.

"… He never abandoned his wife and loved her, even though he had great wealth."

Khalif did not abandon his wife, whose appearance had declined and even the family had fallen, until the end. It was natural and one could say what a great thing it was, but it was not easy considering the countless number of beautiful young ladies who teased Khalif to seduce him as a married man and the social image of the empire.

He only cared for and loved his wife. Such a scene touched many hearts, and it was even heard that he was a romanticist.

Elena appreciated the purity that Khalif showed to his wife. There were so many aristocrats and men who didn't keep the obvious. Just as Elena saw and judged, he was a man with the most credibility to be with her as a business partner.

"I thought the lion would come when I said it… but I never thought I'd run into him."

She saw a man who was ripe for the day lying on the lawn of the North Hall of the Academy where the Faculty of Humanities departments was concentrated, flirting with a woman. The half-faced Khalif in her memory would smile slyly at the women with a smooth face that young ladies would like.

"Do you know why flowers are beautiful?"

The girl couldn't take her eyes off Khalif.

"Why?"

"It is because of the flower that you are. If I were to go blind today, I wouldn't hold it against you."

"I'm that beautiful?"

The female student twisted around with a red beet-like face. She was embarrassed, but she didn't seem to mind that word, so she decided to ask him to check again.

"Shhh."

Khalif raised his index finger to block the girl's lips.

"Would you be responsible if I ate up your ears?"

"I'm just… Ah! I shouldn't have said that."

"…"

Elena was speechless due to a comedy she wouldn't waste her money on. Khalif, with his embarrassing storytelling skills, and the schoolgirl who loved to hear those words, were just as ridiculous. Though she could not understand them, Elena respected them. A lover's love was not something that could be convinced by the gaze of others to begin with.

The girl lying on the lawn whispering and playing showed a regretful expression.

"I have to go to my lecture now."

"Stop."

Khalif cut her off firmly.

"We don't have to say goodbye to each other. When we meet tomorrow, we'll see each other as if we were always together."

"Senior how can you… make my heart go up and down like that?"

Elena held her breath and exercised patience. She was too embarrassed to listen any longer with patience, but she had a feeling that they would be finished soon. Sure enough, the schoolgirl turned and left several times with a look of inadequacy as she left the lawn.

End of vol 1 will meet you when enough readers have gathered...🌸