-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 71
Chapter Title: A Promise Kept
-----------------------------------------------------------------
While I was discovering the secret of Vivian's hair, it seemed Eric had been looking for me.
Eric carefully cleared his throat in front of the women's restroom.
“Imeline.”
Vivian and I looked up at the same time. As soon as Vivian realized it was Eric waiting outside, her face hardened.
“Does your husband follow you all the way to the restroom?”
I gave a bright smile to Vivian, who was glaring at me.
“Oh, I’m sorry. My darling can’t bear to be without me for even a moment.”
As I was about to leave, Vivian spoke urgently.
“Hey, this! The handkerchief!”
I looked down at the handkerchief Vivian was holding out and frowned.
She wants me to take that...?
“Just keep it.”
“Who do you take me for, a beggar...”
Despite her words, Vivian carefully folded the handkerchief and tucked it away. It seemed to be because I'd told her Eric had used it.
Why on earth were there so many women on this continent who were dying to get their hands on Eric?
The moment I stepped out of the restroom, I clung tightly to Eric’s arm.
“My darling~ Have you been waiting long?”
“...What are you doing?”
Eric asked, looking down at me clinging to his arm. I whispered.
“You called me darling earlier, didn't you?”
Smile. I said, smile. There are at least two women in this salon who are after you right now!
“...Th-that was...”
Eric’s face turned bright red, and he seemed about to say something before letting out a deep sigh. Then, with no other choice, he walked toward the center of the salon where everyone was gathered.
“We need to greet Madam Margaret Beaufort. I recommend you don’t say much, if possible. The woman and man standing to her left are...”
“I know. Baron Anthony and his fiancée, Alexia, right?”
I cut Eric off, glancing between the man and woman standing with Margaret. Eric furrowed his brow.
“How did you know?”
I glanced toward the restroom. I could see Vivian stealthily creeping out.
My mother was right.
‘Be nice to the outcast. They’re the source of all information. You know what they say about a woman scorned.’
When Vivian’s eyes met mine, she quickly brought a finger to her lips.
As if to say, *keep it a secret*.
I recalled what Vivian had told me in the restroom earlier.
A secret... huh...
‘Olivia really told me not to say anything... but this year, Baron Anthony proposed to Olivia before he proposed to Alexia, you see? But the price of his paintings skyrocketed this year. So she was about to accept the proposal, but then...’
✵ ✵ ✵
Madam Margaret Beaufort greeted Eric and me warmly as soon as she saw us. She introduced Anthony and his fiancée to us.
Anthony greeted us with a shy smile, one that made it hard to believe he was the artist behind the works of the New Somaticism movement. Alexia, on the other hand, was arrogant, barely bothering to greet us at all.
It was Margaret, the host, who mostly led the conversation. She looked at each of the paintings prepared for the salon with affectionate eyes as she explained them to Eric and me.
Many of the paintings were Anthony’s, so she didn't forget to praise him from time to time.
“Y-you’re too kind. I-it’s all because Madam Margaret wrote such a g-good review in the n-newspaper.”
Anthony stammered, unable to properly handle the praise and looking awkward. Each time, Alexia would chide him.
“Baron. It’s *review*, not *re-review*. Please.”
“Th-thank you, Alexia.”
Thank you?
The relationship between Anthony and Alexia seemed truly peculiar.
It was then. I felt a predatory gaze fixed on Eric.
When I turned my head, I saw Margaret. She was looking at Eric with an expression similar to the one she had when viewing the paintings of naked men and women entangled together. Eric, not unaware of her gaze, steadfastly avoided looking at her.
‘She’s practically undressing him with her eyes.’
I gripped Eric’s forearm tightly. I have to protect this man...
Margaret watched this silently for a moment before moving toward the largest painting in the salon.
The oil painting, which filled an entire wall, was...
Very large...
And... obscene...
‘A scene of a man and woman XX-ing and XX-ing...’
I heard Eric clear his throat. But I, already sick to death of such nude paintings, calmly recalled the butler’s voice.
‘If the curves of the man and woman’s bodies are expressed richly, it is a work by Anthony. But if you can feel a bit more weight in the brushstrokes, then it would be a work by Alex.’
Looking up at the painting, I unknowingly shot my hand into the air.
“Alex! Ah, I’m sure of it! This is a work by Alex, isn’t it?”
“...?”
Ah, playing quizzes with the butler has become such a habit that I raised my hand without thinking.
‘In any case, I definitely got this one right!’
I licked my lips and gave an awkward smile to the four pairs of eyes staring at me. I felt a little embarrassed, and a little proud.
It was then.
“...Th-this is m-my work!”
Anthony, his voice choked with emotion, suddenly shouted at me.
He had been so timid and quiet until now, but this time he was exceptionally incensed. Eric looked taken aback as well. I, too, was a bit flustered and muttered.
“Oh, but it’s not... This one has a sense of weight to it...”
“Are you saying my paintings lack weight?”
Just then, Anthony glared at me.
Somehow, it had become a situation where I had to explain myself. I felt the eyes on me and blushed.
...Damn it.
“Ah, I-I’m sorry. I don’t have a good eye for art... But you can feel the weight in this painting, can’t you? On the other hand, Artist Anthony’s usual works are, how should I put it...”
‘Anthony’s style is to beautifully depict the female form.’
‘Beautifully? What nonsense... Don’t they look less than human? A bit like dolls. Where in the world would you find a woman who looks like that? And if you look closely, all the compositions are from a peeping perspective. Isn’t this just plain perverted? A pervert?!’
Pervert...
I hesitated, unable to think of a suitable word other than the one I had used with the butler: pervert. Why is that the only word that keeps popping into my head!
“So... um... the beautiful nudes... with a voyeuristic composition... like a pervert... no, from an observer’s perspective...”
Ah, hell. I’ve screwed up.
I tried to put it delicately, but I couldn't manage to soften a single word.
I watched the faces of Anthony and his fiancée slowly harden. Alexia, likely thinking she had to smooth things over, pulled on Anthony’s arm.
“Anthony. We should go over there and greet some of the other guests...”
“V-voyeuristic composition?! M-madam, your eye for art isn’t just lacking, it’s downright vulgar!”
Anthony’s face turned red then purple. As if I had hit a nerve.
“...?”
I scrunched my face as I watched the excessively agitated Anthony throw a fit.
Eric stepped forward to calmly placate Anthony.
“I apologize. It seems Imeline has said something that could be misunderstood.”
I inwardly ground my teeth. Then Eric continued.
“But vulgar? You are speaking rudely to my wife.”
How dare someone like you make a scene at my wife.
That was the tone he used. I was slightly surprised to see the fierceness in Eric’s eyes.
Oho... so this guy knows how to pull rank?
But Anthony, looking as if he’d already lost his senses, shouted.
“I-I heard you haven’t been in the capital long, but this is an unbelievable level for a capital noble! I-I can’t believe the Duke approved this marriage. I heard you were a lower noble, and it seems your dignity is just as low!”
W-what did you say?
‘Th-this guy, really...!’
Just because his paintings sell for 100,000 gold, he thinks he can say anything?
Vivian told me earlier.
‘Starting this year, Anthony’s paintings suddenly got much better. That's why one piece goes for a hundred thousand gold...’
‘A hundred thousand gold?!’
Who does he think he is, talking to me like that, when all he does is cater to the vanity of nobles?
‘Come to think of it, she said he sold a painting to the Duke, too...’
He gets a big head just because he’s good at painting and has connections in high society, is that it?
I looked at the other nobles, who were watching me being insulted with great interest.
Their eyes wanted only one thing: for the Duke’s daughter-in-law to cause a scene and tarnish the family’s honor.
Thus giving them something to gossip about in the restroom.
I can’t fall for such an obvious ploy.
‘Let’s resolve this quietly. Quietly...’
Just as I was about to apologize as humbly as possible, despite seething inside, he spoke.
The baron glared at me as hard as he could and said.
“B-blood will out, I suppose? Right?”
‘Ah, I can’t let that slide.’
The moment I had that thought.
Riiiiip!
The sound of a large canvas being torn echoed through the room.
In an instant, a silence fell over the salon, as if everyone had stopped breathing.
The nobles all stopped what they were doing and stared at Eric, me, and Anthony.
Even Margaret’s leisurely smile had long since vanished from her lips.
“Wh... What is the meaning of...”
It was understandable.
Because Eric, with a speed that made it impossible to see when he’d even drawn it, had pulled a dagger from his coat and slashed the massive painting from the center all the way to the bottom.
‘Is... is he crazy...?’
While I was thinking this, Eric, as if it were nothing, left the dagger embedded in the painting and casually let go.
“Wh-what do you think you’re doing!”
Anthony, his face contorted with extreme rage, tried to lunge at Eric.
At that moment, Eric glared at Anthony and spoke calmly.
“Lay a single finger on me. It would make for a very good excuse. An excuse for me to beat you to a pulp right here.”
Anthony froze on the spot.
In an instant, the air grew cold. No, it wasn't just growing cold; it felt like I was suffocating from some kind of aura emanating from Eric.
‘...?’
I instinctively shrank back and looked around.
Am I the only one feeling this?
But when I looked around, the other nobles were trembling as well.
What is this...
I looked at Eric with a surprised expression.
When our eyes met, Eric’s chilling expression softened slightly.
At the same time, the strange atmosphere that had enveloped the room also vanished.
“Phew...”
I could hear people letting out sighs of relief.
Anthony, who had felt that pressure right in front of Eric, collapsed to the floor as if his legs had given out.
Eric left Anthony behind and strode over to me.
Margaret stared intently at Eric. She was the only one whose expression hadn’t changed at all amidst that strange atmosphere just moments before.
Eric took my hand and turned to Margaret.
“That painting. I’ll buy it. I believe it is currently in your possession, Madam Margaret. Please forgive my rudeness.”
It was an act that blatantly ignored the painting’s original artist.
This attitude of settling things with the owner of the painting.
According to the butler, when an artist’s work is displayed at this salon, its price goes up significantly when it later goes to auction. The owner benefits, but the artist’s value also increases.
But now the painting has been unceremoniously torn at the salon...
I clenched my jaw and whispered so only Eric could hear.
“What are you doing... really?”
“I told you. That I’d teach them a lesson.”
Eric replied, looking straight at me. Only then did I remember what he had said back at the Duke’s residence.
‘...I’ll have to teach them a lesson.’
This is what he meant by teaching them a lesson?!
For a moment, I felt my mind go completely blank.
“I’m keeping my promise.”
Especially when I heard Eric’s last words.
