Masterpiece - Chapter 12 - Belle Reservoir

Chapter 12

Fortunately, the lady didn’t seem to mind.

Couven was relieved that he had somehow overcome this hurdle. It couldn’t have been easy for him to cater to the whims of a noble, especially one as unpredictable as this.

“It’s not much, but here’s the bouquet I promised you last time.”

The painter handed her a bouquet of flowers. It consisted of fuchsias and ranunculus as red as her cheeks, as well as gladiolus with salmon-pink edges on their petals.

A smile naturally spread across her face. Not caring about the newspaper used as wrapping paper, she buried her face in the bouquet of pink flowers, the corners of her mouth almost reaching her ears with joy.

“Oh my, they’re so beautiful. I’ll put them in a vase by my bedside and look at them every day. Thank you, Wyers.”

“I’m glad you like them.”

“Please paint my portrait with this bouquet.”

Couven doubted his own ears. Why would she want to include a few flowers in her portrait? They would just wilt and die.

“I’ll give you a prettier bouquet next time. Please reconsider and let me paint another portrait of you then.”

“No, these are the first flowers I received from Wyers. I don’t want to forget them even after a long time.”

Was she being sincere? He knew that her feelings wouldn’t last. Nobles got bored easily.

However, he decided to humor her for now. After all, Vessia was his employer’s daughter, which made her something like a ‘master’ to the painter.

“…Alright. Please take a seat over here.”

Couven escorted the lady.

When they arrived at the waiting room, he first prepared a seat for the young lady. He chose a spot where the sunlight falling on her face wouldn’t be too harsh, creating natural shadows along the contours of her face.

He sat her down there. Once she was comfortably seated in the armchair, a servant arranged her dress.

“Did you have to wait long?”

“No, I had a lot to prepare.”

Couven observed her as she sat down. Various makeup shades was seen on her slender face. Satisfied with what he saw, the man let out a deep breath. Even the way she sat in the chair was flawless and graceful.

The painter placed an easel two steps away from her so that he could be close enough to see her face clearly while painting her portrait.

“You chose such a nice place, so why did you come to the waiting room?”

At Vessia’s question, he glanced around the room.

“The place you prepared for me is also wonderful, but I need good ventilation and… a wide window to paint a portrait. The light needs to be spread out evenly without casting unnecessary shadows. I chose the waiting room after looking for such a place. If you don’t like it or if you’re uncomfortable, please let me know.”

He seemed ready to move to another location immediately if she found the seat uncomfortable or if she rejected his suggestion. A faint smile appeared on her lips at his words, which somehow conveyed a sense of professional dedication.

“I understand. I’m not uncomfortable.”

“Then I’ll take that as your consent and begin working on the portrait.”

Couven put on gloves and took out a pencil from his paint box. In his large hands, the pencil looked as thin as a quill pen.

The painter began sketching. He started by capturing the overall shape of her body as she sat, then gradually added more details until he had a complete and accurate depiction of her appearance.

The area covered by the black lines on the white canvas grew larger and larger. The pencil made a scratching sound as it moved across the rough canvas.

From time to time, Couven would stare intently at her. His piercing eyes felt like sharp knives cutting through her skin. Her face felt like it was on fire, as if someone had lit a fuse. Her toes curled inside her shoes.

She discreetly tugged at the part of her dress that touched her fingers, not only because of the painter’s intense gaze but also because she was worried that the bruises covered with powder would become visible.

Her heart pounded so fast that it felt like it would burst out of her chest. She was afraid that Couven would hear this uncontrollable sound. She wanted to press her chest hard to prevent him from hearing the pounding of her heart.

She didn’t have the confidence to withstand the painter’s gaze. She wanted to look away and find a place to hide, but it felt like he had locked his eyes onto hers. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

“….”

No matter how many times he looked at her, she maintained her initial posture without moving an inch. Other nobles would have complained about how tiring it was every few minutes. To be honest, the young lady’s attitude impressed him. Thanks to her, he was able to focus on his work more than usual.

At this rate, he would be able to work as fast as he did when he was alone in his studio.

As he added meticulous details to the faint outlines, the sketch gradually transformed into a portrait of Lady Vessia. Her hair cascaded down to her waist in soft waves, her eyebrows were straight, her eyes were slightly droopy, and her lower eyelashes were particularly prominent.

And then,

Her wrinkled nose.

‘This is my limit.’

Vessia felt like she was dying. Being only two steps away from Couven was nerve-wracking enough, but now something felt like dust and kept tickling the area between her nose and cheek, driving her crazy.

At first, it was an irritation she could handle. She could ignore it to some extent, but the supposed dust seemed to be testing her patience by growing more and more noticeable.

She tried closing her eyes tightly and opening them again, blowing air out of her mouth when Couven looked away, and even wrinkling her nose, but the tickling sensation wouldn’t go away.

Vessia, who didn’t want to disturb the portrait session, almost felt like crying.