Masterpiece - Chapter 16 - Belle Reservoir

Chapter 16

In the dining room, several servants were busy carrying dishes back and forth. The lady was seated at the head of the table, with the artist to her left.

Two meals were set neatly on the table. A servant poured water and wine into two crystal glasses.

The dishes that the maid had mentioned were filled generously in each bowl. Couven examined the various dishes, waiting for Vessia to eat.

“….”

The dining room was not noisy. Only the clinking of forks and knives against the plates could be heard.

The lady chewed her food without saying a word. Her knife work was as graceful as a ballet dancer’s hand movements.

The man held a fork and knife that did not fit in his hands. He tried not to violate dining etiquette as he cut the bacon.

After eating a piece of steamed sea bass, Vessia put down her fork and knife and pressed her napkin to her lips.

“Is there anything uncomfortable about the mansion?”

Couven had just dipped the bacon in the accompanying sauce and put it in his mouth. He raised his index finger as if asking her to wait a moment. He needed to answer the lady, but the bacon in his mouth was too chewy.

Vessia waited silently for Couven to finish eating. The muscles in the man’s jaw moved busily. She watched him with interest, and without realizing it, the corners of her mouth turned up.

The artist, who had been chewing the bacon slowly, finally opened his mouth.

“There was, but I think it’s been resolved for now.”

“What was uncomfortable?”

At Vessia’s question, Couven grasped the cutlery tightly for a moment and then put it down on either side of his plate. He hesitated. He wondered if it was okay to be honest with the lady about his nature.

The lady was sometimes mischievous, but she always treated him warmly and without distinction. If he told her that he was an alpha, she might be disgusted and change her tune.

However, the portrait was a matter of money, and he didn’t want to lose a client who was paying him a good price. In order to trust each other, there should be no secrets.

Even if there were, they should be minimized.

“When I first visited the Duke’s mansion, I was overwhelmed by the pheromones of the omegas, but when I told His Grace Quixote, he seemed to have taken care of it.”

“…Are you an alpha?”

“Yes, I am.”

Her eyes widened slightly. It was an instinctive aversion to alphas that made her not want to touch him.

Well, then. If the noble lady were an omega or a beta, she would probably grit her teeth and tell him to get lost. Even between alphas, it was common to keep their distance.

It wasn’t too late. If she was going to cut him off, she should do it before she got attached. It was a pity to break the exceptional contract he had signed with the Duke, but there were opportunities to make money everywhere.

“I see…”

The lady acted as if she hadn’t heard what the artist had just said.

Couven, who had been trying to guess the lady’s thoughts based on a slightly changed expression, lost his energy at Vessia’s lukewarm response.

‘Is she really not bothered?’

The alpha took a sip of water to quench his thirst.

“How is the food? Is it to your taste?”

The question of whether the food was to his taste brought the man’s mind back to reality. It was as if he had returned to a peaceful everyday life as if nothing had happened.

“…Yes. It’s delicious.”

“I’m glad.”

The lady, with the corners of her mouth turned up, ate goat cheese with her salad. Her lips, which were neatly coated with rouge, moved constantly. The fresh vegetables were crushed in her mouth.

For some reason, Couven didn’t want to eat any more. It wasn’t that he was full, but because it seemed like he shouldn’t right now.

Instead, he filled his stomach with the sight of Vessia. He analyzed what colors and emotions he should put into the portrait he would complete when he returned to the waiting room.

Her warm eyes and beautifully curved lips, her soft chin and… the slender fingers that had almost touched her cheek.

Like that, he slowly and carefully savored the pieces that made up Vessia.

“If I have something on my face, please remove it.”

“…That’s not it, I apologize. I must get going.”

He should have stopped even at the lady’s playful behavior.

The artist, who had waited until the lady had finished chewing and swallowing the food in her mouth, wiped his mouth with a napkin. Vessia’s gaze followed Couven. Her yellow eyes were tinged with curiosity, as if asking why he was getting up.

“I have eaten enough. I feel like I should paint the portrait right now, so I will go back. You don’t have to come to the waiting room again. Please forgive me for the rudeness of leaving the lady and going first.”

Vessia put down the cutlery she was holding.

The man, who had pushed back his chair and stood up, greeted the lady. He took a step back and then turned around to stretch out his long legs. The artist gave a slight nod to the maid and knight waiting in front of the door.

Couven left the dining room. On the plate where he had been sitting, a single oyster mushroom remained uneaten.