Masterpiece - Chapter 11
Couven had already gotten off the carriage. He carried the paint box, canvas, and easel he had taken out of the luggage compartment up the stairs. The knight her father had assigned him was with him.
However, it seemed the painter didn’t want to entrust the knight with his painting supplies. Couven carried the luggage that even a strong man would find heavy all by himself.
‘Why doesn’t he get some help?’ She wondered, but for now, she was more concerned with greeting him.
Vessia’s room became busy again. The maids began to move around busily. They had heard the young lady’s muttering as she stood in front of the window.
The maid followed the lady as she headed to the dressing room.
She wore a bright yellow silk dress. It had a deep V-neck with a rich frill, and the waist and hem were decorated with lace.
Vessia put on the accessories she had chosen after much deliberation with the maid and wore low-heeled shoes.
When she put on makeup, she covered her blemishes with powder and smeared her lipstick fiercely.
Meanwhile, the maid tied the young lady’s hair with a ribbon. The yellow butterfly shape seemed as if it could flutter at any moment.
The lady, who came out of the room, stood in front of the full-length mirror. Half a turn to the right, then half a turn to the left. She turned around on the spot and looked at her appearance.
“It’s good enough for a portrait.”
However, the maids were frustrated that they couldn’t dress the young lady perfectly.
Vessia checked the clock above the mantelpiece.
The time she had spent choosing a dress before going to bed yesterday and getting it altered so far had reduced her time consumption. However, she still spent a long time getting ready.
She hadn’t set a separate time for the appointment, but Couven might be waiting.
That’s enough. She doesn’t want to delay any longer.
Vessia, who came out of the bedroom, opened the door out of the reception room that was connected to the mansion’s corridor. A knight was waiting for her in the hallway.
At the sound of the lady’s footsteps, the knight turned his head. He found the young lady coming out of the reception room and blushed.
“Your ladyship is beautiful today as well.”
Arrogant and foolish. Did he think she would say ‘thank you’ if he complimented her appearance? The knight was embarrassed by the lady’s dry response and coughed in vain.
In the first place, she didn’t like compliments on her appearance that much, and she didn’t want to listen to such things here.
“Where is the painter now?”
Vessia wanted only one thing.
To know where Couven was in the Quixote mansion.
“I am in charge of escorting the young lady today. The painter who came to see the young lady is in the reception room on the lower floor.”
The place she had chosen was the classroom. The butler must have told him, so why did Couven go to the insignificant reception room? Did he not want to go to the classroom?
She wondered, but seeing the man in the reception room was the priority. The lady nodded and took the lead. The knight, who claimed to be an escort, followed the young lady with the maid.
Another knight guarded the door of the reception room on the lower floor, where Couven was. The knight, who bowed to the young lady, quickly opened the door. As the door opened, the painter’s figure gradually appeared.
The man turned his head this way. His eyes moved to Vessia. He slowly got up from his seat, paying attention to the lady entering the reception room.
The painter couldn’t take his eyes off the sight of the wrinkled dress fluttering dramatically.
Vessia was in a good mood after seeing Couven’s gaze.
The man waited silently and stared until she came close enough.
He gazed at her opal earrings.
He gazed at her pearl necklace.
The closer the lady got to him, the more his breath seemed to catch. As he organized the painting supplies, he thought about it, but he still couldn’t decide on an issue.
He doesn’t know what to call her.
Vessia raised her chin as she approached Couven, and the painter had to bow his head as she approached. Even though the lady was not short, the man was towering over her.
The heels that were hitting the floor stopped right in front of Couven.
“Good morning… Lady Quixote.”
The man greeted her first. He knew Vessia’s name, but he hesitated, not knowing what title to call her in public.
“It’s been a long time, Wyers.”
He mentioned her family name to be formal.