Masterpiece - Chapter 9 - Most anticipated day

Chapter 9 – Most anticipated day

Translator: Yonnee

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This time, he tried not to spit out the tea, turning his body to the side. He swallowed the cough with his mouth firmly shut. It felt like passing through a blade—his throat stung.

The maid who accompanied him to the parlor handed a handkerchief to the artist. The man bowed his head in thanks. Couven neatly folded the handkerchief and pressed it to his mouth.

He also felt it when she told him, ‘Such a passionate gaze puts me in a difficult spot.’

Really, how could one be so unreserved? Even from someone who seemed to have everything, including a lover who looked like the blinding epitome of all noblemen.

Rather, even with such mischievous words directed at him, should he be grateful for the unhesitant attitude she was showing towards his wretched self?

Couven cleared his throat to calm the cough that seemed uncontrollable.

He didn’t quite know how to handle this utterly unpredictable lady.

“I knew this would happen someday, Milady!”

“……”

The handmaid standing behind the ducal lady scolded her. Ironically, Vessia didn’t respond to the honor-bound maid.

Leaning on the canapé^[1], Vessia waited calmly until Couven’s coughing fit settled down.

She observed the withered flowers in the vase on the parlor table and listened to the birdsong from outside. She thought fleetingly, waiting didn’t seem as boring as it should be.

Couven, who had been coughing while pounding his chest with his fist, took a deep breath. Confirming that the coughing fit had subsided, he turned toward the ducal lady.

The artist apologized to the lady with a mix of spikes still in his voice.

“Please forgive my indiscretion.”

“Don’t worry about it. Earlier, I showed you an unbearable sight myself.”

While using his fist to knock on his chest, Couven breathed a sigh of relief. Yeongae stared at him, waiting for him to calm down.

At the back of his mind, Couven somehow knew that if he sat here any longer, he might be further manipulated by the ducal lady. And so, he stood up immediately.

His warm and resilient eyes, like molten gold, rose above eye level.

“I shall take my leave now. When I visit next time, I’ll come properly prepared.”

“What kind of preparations exactly are you going to make?”

“Pardon?”

Vessia rose to her feet, following Couven. She offered a faint smile to the puzzled artist.

Was she playing around with him? The man swallowed thickly, suppressing a cough. He was thankful he wasn’t drinking any black tea now.

“No, never mind. See you next time.”

“I apologize for having to leave first. I’ll be on my way now.”

Couven bowed low towards the ducal lady, who was cradling her chin with one hand.

Vessia, raising one side of her thin chemise in a slight curtsy, also conveyed her farewells.

The man turned and stretched his legs beyond the door opened by a servant. He moved one step at a time and disappeared into the path leading to the hallway.

* * *

Could a sofa that felt cramped with the artist’s figure look this spacious? The cooled black tea no longer emitted steam.

The wide shoulders that left the drawing room could be seen flinching a little. And though he had nervously crumpled the hem of his shirt with a fist, that man’s body was quite robust.

Her eyes kept gravitating towards Couven’s chest, as if someone had attached a strong magnetic field that’s perfectly attuned to her eyes.

Oh, how hard did she try not to stare so blatantly at the man’s crotch, even though they were covered by a pair of pants, tied with a string? Should she be grateful for the shirt that was doing its best yet barely keeping the artist’s figure veiled?

His red lips, which would purse every time he took a sip of the tea. His thick chest, which looked so beautiful. His long, solid legs that emitted such power.

One after another, these images appeared relentlessly in Vessia’s mind, lending to the reddened hue visiting her cheeks.

“Shall I fan you, Milady?”

“No need.”

As she had been covering her lips with the back of her hand until now, she used the same hand to fan her own face. And soon, she also took a sip of the cooled black tea.

In the meantime, the lukewarm tea ran cooly down her throat. It felt as though she had woken up from a dream wherein she was utterly lost.

The ducal lady set down her teacup and headed towards a window. Through the transparent glass, the mansion’s spacious courtyard could be seen.

The front yard, where people appeared as tiny dots, revealed a carriage rolling down the path beside the pond, moving at a leisurely pace.

It was likely that Couven was the passenger of that carriage. After all, only one guest had visited the mansion at this time—the artist.

She raised her finger to the carriage’s window, leaving a faint trail on the glass. As her index finger traced a delicate path, it stopped when the carriage disappeared, lingering there.

“I can’t wait to see you again soon,” whispered Vessia so softly that no one else could hear.

¹ Canapé: Typically describes a long chair instead of individual seats for three people. It is crafted with intricately carved wood for the frame and legs, covered in a soft material for the backrest and seating area. ↩

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