TSHL 44

Chapter 44

McKenna Hudson.
Yes, as I expected, it was indeed her. She was quite a famous figure.
Even someone completely unfamiliar with painting had probably heard her name or seen her work at least once.
At first, she didn’t reveal her face and went by the single initial “M.”
After a long career as a painter, she eventually revealed her face and real name.
She was known as an eccentric. Whenever she painted, she managed to get whatever she needed for her work.
There were even rumors that someone had seen her digging up graves at night.
At other times, she would seclude herself for years without showing her face, all for the sake of her art.
Despite these quirks, her tremendous skill made aspiring artists eager to become her apprentice, yet she never accepted anyone.
Those who met her often complained, calling her a cantankerous old woman.
It was my first time seeing her in person as well.
White and gray hair, moderately dark skin, and a stiff, precise walk.
I knew she was fairly advanced in age, but perhaps due to her upright posture, she didn’t look that old.
The firm, rigid expression on her face seemed to reflect her personality exactly.
I never imagined that the person Adolf had brought as a painting teacher would be her.
I was a little surprised. How did he manage to persuade her?
But I hadn’t come to the capital with only a small curiosity about painting either.
Once I made up my mind, I had to do it properly.
I stood up from my seat. Above all, since she would be my mentor, I wanted to make a good first impression.
“Hello, Mrs. McKenna. My name is Cassia Bennett. It’s an honor that you will be teaching me. I look forward to learning from you.”
“…I heard you have a few paintings from Laurencia. I’d like to see them.”
“Oh, yes.”
She didn’t respond much to my greeting but instructed me to bring the paintings.
I had anticipated this and had brought the paintings I’d done in Laurencia.
I took the canvases I had leaned against the corner of the living room wall and presented them to her.
Mrs. McKenna examined my paintings with an inscrutable expression.
Her gaze was thoroughly evaluative.
Yet, she revealed nothing outwardly, so one could not guess her judgment.
Feeling nervous, I swallowed.
After a while, she finally looked away from the paintings.
Then she took the canvases from my hands and handed them to Sophie, who was nearby.
“Throw these away.”
“…”
“They’re trash with no foundation at all.”
As I had suspected, my intuition about her first impression was not wrong.

From the next day, lessons began immediately.
Early in the morning, I set up a chair and canvas in my room and waited for Mrs. McKenna.
When the time came, the door opened, and Mrs. McKenna entered carrying a briefcase.
“Good morning, Mrs. McKenna.”
“…”
She merely nodded slightly and pushed the door open.
A courier entered, struggling under a heavy load. He carried numerous books related to art: historical texts, books on famous painters, and even some general knowledge books that seemed unrelated to art.
He placed them on my desk with a grunt and left.
With the door closed, Mrs. McKenna spoke,
“These books will be helpful. Read them at your own pace.”
“…Ah, yes. Thank you. I’ll read them whenever I have time.”
I stood and bowed in thanks.
She glanced at the canvas in front of me and the palette nearby, then raised her eyebrows.
“There.”
She opened the door again and called Sophie.
“Yes, ma’am. Do you need something?”
“Clear that palette and bring charcoal.”
“…Charcoal?”
Sophie looked puzzled but obeyed. She took the palette out of my room and went to a nearby workshop to fetch the charcoal.
I asked her, a bit confused,
“So, we won’t be using the palette today?”
“We won’t be using it for the next few months—until you grasp the basics.”
“…I see.”
Charcoal is usually for sketching, right? I didn’t understand how that would establish the basics.
Seeing my confusion, she explained,
“For now, you will learn sketching—or more precisely, drawing.”
“…Ah.”
“Many painters underestimate the importance of drawing, but it’s actually the most fundamental technique.”
Soon, Sophie returned.
“Here’s the charcoal, ma’am.”
“Thank you. Put it down and leave.”
Sophie placed it quietly and left. For some reason, I felt a tinge of sympathy in her eyes as she looked at me.
I felt the same way, Sophie.

For a month, I drew apples incessantly.
As Mrs. McKenna said, drawing was the most basic technique—a method of expressing objects only through black lines and shading.
I tried various approaches with a single apple to master it.
I adjusted the sunlight angle, drew it at different times of day as the light changed, and experimented endlessly.
At first, I didn’t understand why we did this.
But gradually, I realized the reason.
Every apple we see has a slightly different shape and color depending on the moment.
Depending on the light, parts are hidden or revealed, and the angle changes how it appears.
Even after hundreds of drawings, not a single apple looked the same.
It was perception. It was the eye a painter must develop.
I was learning the basic eye.
Understanding the reason naturally improved my skill.
Knowing the purpose, I focused on observing the apple more attentively.
And I began to enjoy it.
Those days were spent fully absorbing the sensation with my entire body.

One night, I woke with a start.
“Ah, I fell asleep…”
I yawned and saw that bedtime was approaching.
I put down the book I had been reading at my desk: a thick art history book Mrs. McKenna had given me during our first lesson.
After finishing lessons with her each day, I read the book before bed.
Having been educated as a noblewoman, I knew the importance of this foundational knowledge.
Why hadn’t I found this interesting as a child?
I remembered studying art history at the academy, but learning with interest was entirely different from learning out of obligation.
“I should read a bit more…”
Reluctantly, I took off my glasses. Since starting painting lessons, I had barely slept a few hours each day.
Drawing apples constantly wasn’t easy, but I lost track of time while immersed in it.
Yet, my age made me feel physical limits creeping in.
I couldn’t read more tonight; I needed rest.
As I tidied my desk and was about to leave, there was a knock.
Knock, knock, knock. Sophie entered.
“Cassia!”
“Sophie.”
I smiled warmly. At this hour, she always came to help me sleep.
As Adolf had said, it was a relief to have someone managing my condition while I learned painting.
Sophie was an excellent maid.
She managed my schedule and completed the housework I couldn’t do while studying painting.
She prepared my meals, and her cooking was excellent.
Thanks to her, I could focus entirely on painting.
“Going to bed now?”
“Yes, planning to.”
“Here, warm water to drink before sleeping. It will relax your body.”
“Thanks, Sophie.”
I took the water and went to bed, setting it on the bedside table.
Sophie seemed to have something on her mind as she approached and smiled.
“Cassia, how are your painting lessons going these days?”
“Thanks to you, I’m enjoying them very much.”
“You’re not too tired? You seem to be overworking.”
“Of course I’m tired, but after such a long time, it’s just fun to study again.”
I had only recently started lessons, so my enthusiasm was high.
Even knowing I needed to manage my stamina, it was hard to control while engrossed in lessons.
Mrs. McKenna didn’t hesitate to criticize my work harshly, but I liked it.
I wanted her to teach me more, to hear more biting comments. After all, I was still a beginner with no basics.
Each day was tiring but rewarding.
“I have a suggestion for you, Cassia.”
“What is it?”
Sophie approached and said,
“I discussed it with His Highness. We think it would be good for you to exercise.”
“Ah.”
“To study painting long and healthily, stamina is essential.”
I hadn’t considered it before, but it made sense.
I had always been fairly active. I enjoyed it.
As a child, I enjoyed wandering around with Diana.
Even as a Duchess, I would regularly stroll through the family garden.
All that physical strength later supported running the gallery.
Lately, sitting for long periods had made me feel my stamina decreasing rapidly.
“You should take walks regularly. If there’s a sport you’re interested in, it’s a good chance to start learning it.”
“Yes, you’re right. That’s a great idea.”
I thought for a moment. Hmm, what kind of exercise would be best? Then I answered,
“Could I ride horses regularly?”
“Horseback riding?”
Sophie looked slightly surprised. It seemed she hadn’t expected that choice.
“I used to enjoy it as a child. If anything is fine, I think horseback riding would be good.”
I remembered riding with Mikael in Laurencia.
Even though I was very tired, riding cleared all my stress immediately.
It worked my muscles for a few days, but it was a fun way to exercise and relieve stress at the same time.
“Of course that’s fine, Cassia.”
Sophie nodded with a smile.
“I’ll ask His Highness to prepare a very good horse for you.”
“Thank you, Sophie.”