Chapter 50
After that, we simply had an ordinary date.
Talking about this and that with him, we both ended up putting our books down.
It was late at night. Michael had fallen asleep on the bed, exhausted.
His true, unguarded self—something only I could see—lay before me.
With warm eyes, I looked at his deeply closed eyes, the proud bridge of his nose, and the gentle line of his philtrum and lips.
He really was a radiant person.
That much had never changed, not since we were children.
He was, after all, undeniably of Count Allison’s bloodline, no matter how much he might try to deny it.
And that alone always brought me both excitement and peace.
But at the same time, there was something about him that felt uniquely special to me.
“Why do you care about me so much?”
Who am I to deserve it?
Michael Allison had always been the one to save my life in the most intense ways.
He had stopped my marriage to the Duke, offered to erase my memories, and even erased the memories of others who posed a threat to me.
There had never been any ulterior motive.
It wasn’t for Diana.
It wasn’t for House Hydrian.
It wasn’t even for himself.
Everything he had ever done for me—every action, every offer—was purely for my sake.
Perhaps he was someone who cared for me even more than I cared for myself.
My eyes fell on the ring that always adorned his hand—the ring that matched mine.
After looking at him one last time, I rose from my seat.
I threw on a light robe and brought out a quill and some paper.
Perching on the edge of the bed, I began to sketch Michael with gentle, careful strokes.
“……”
My expression was serious.
The quill moved quickly.
Only through black lines and shades, Michael’s figure slowly emerged on the paper.
When I finally finished drawing him, he slowly opened his eyes.
It was just before dawn. Our eyes met in the dim light.
“You’re awake, Michael?”
“…Mm. You haven’t slept?”
“It’s not morning yet. You can sleep a little longer.”
I said that, but Michael insisted he couldn’t sleep if I wasn’t sleeping either, glaring stubbornly with half-lidded eyes.
His expression was so ridiculous I couldn’t help but laugh softly.
He laughed with me, then glanced at the paper in my hand.
“What were you doing?”
“I was drawing you.”
I handed him the finished sketch. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked at it.
“Wow.”
“Hmm?”
“You’ve really improved. It doesn’t look like the kind of drawings you used to do.”
“Ah, that’s true.”
Before, I had expressed whatever was in my heart through color, however it came out.
Now, my technique had become much more structured.
I had learned to see the lines and colors of the world with sharper sensitivity—and to capture them on paper.
Now, the next step would be to infuse that with my own feelings and vision.
What kind of paintings should I fill my debut exhibition with?
The subjects I chose, the moods I expressed—those things would naturally reflect my own mind and perspective.
All of it together would define who I was as an artist.
In that sense… maybe this would be the right theme.
Somehow, I felt as though the theme for my debut exhibition had just been decided.
When morning came, Michael returned to his county.
It was a short date, and though I was sorry to part, it had been such an intense and satisfying time that I was content.
Promising to meet again, I watched him go.
A few days later, Mrs. McKenna and Sophie returned from their holiday.
I told them the answer I had finally come to after much thought.
First, I told Mrs. McKenna about the theme for my debut exhibition.
“I want to paint the people I cherish—the people who are mine.”
I had begun to realize something.
There were new people around me now.
Adolf, who went out of his way to make sure I could learn to paint.
Sophie, who faithfully helped me in every little thing.
Mrs. McKenna, who taught me with passion and patience.
Michael, who always stood one step behind me, waiting and supporting me.
And even Nick, whose face I could now look at comfortably.
They were all people who helped me, who gave of themselves for my sake—people I liked.
I didn’t yet know exactly how to express them.
It might turn out to be abstract, or it might be portraiture.
But what was certain was that I wanted to express the changes these people had brought into my life, in some form.
That felt like the most fitting theme for me right now.
Mrs. McKenna looked at me quietly, then simply nodded.
When I asked for advice on how best to portray it, she told me I should think about that myself first.
I also told Sophie that I wanted to attend the debutante ball.
She worried that I might be exposed to people’s eyes, but when I said I’d go quietly under a cloak, she agreed.
Honestly, even if I were seen, it wouldn’t matter much.
It would just make life a little more inconvenient.
It would only mean that the vague rumors about me would spread a little further.
The people who cared about me worried I might get hurt by the exposure.
But I wasn’t such a fragile person.
If I had feared such things, I could never have stayed by Diana’s side or sat in the Duchess’s seat in the first place.
So it was fine.
Of course, I still preferred to avoid unnecessary trouble—so yes, I would wear the cloak.
As the debutante ball approached, I threw myself into preparing for my debut exhibition.
I asked Sophie to pose as my model and began drawing her, just as I had done with Michael—using only charcoal, lines, and light and shadow.
Sophie liked the finished piece, but to me, it still felt lacking.
Maybe it was good. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I was on the right track. Maybe not.
When I showed it to Mrs. McKenna, she silently dropped it into the trash bin.
So I started again, redrawing, rethinking everything about the debut exhibition.
And then—
The Debutante Ball began.
Every year, when the weather turned chilly, the Empire of Pontrich entered a season of prosperity.
In Laurencia, the markets filled with grains and delicious fruits, and people from all across the nation gathered and traded in abundance.
From that prosperity, great festivals bloomed in the capital.
The Festival of Thanks.
And the Debutante Ball.
It was a time to offer gratitude to the god who protected the empire—and at the same time, to present to the divine the “harvest” of the noble class:
The introduction of young nobles who had just come of age.
The debutante ball was one of the most important events in a noble’s life.
It marked the beginning of adulthood and the official entry into high society.
Of course, most had already built connections and reputations since their academy days.
“The banquet starts exactly at seven. You should get ready now, Lady Cassia.”
On the day of the ball, I was still painting in the afternoon, practicing for my debut exhibition.
The ball took place on the final day of the Festival of Thanks, and though the capital was alive with excitement, I had no time to enjoy it.
Mrs. McKenna continued to hold our scheduled lessons throughout the festival, and that was only natural to me.
Now that talk of my debut had begun, there was no excuse to slack off.
Sophie entered my room as I worked.
Looking at the clock, I realized it was about time to start preparing.
“Just a moment, Sophie. I’m almost done.”
I wrapped up the piece I was working on and set down my palette.
As I stood, Sophie came in with both hands full of cosmetics.
“What’s all that?”
“Don’t ask—just sit here.”
She sat me down, opened the case, and began applying makeup with swift, deft motions.
“I’m wearing a cloak anyway…”
“You never know. You might need to take it off. At least wear some makeup.”
Her tone was firm.
“I’d like to go with you myself, but since you insist on going alone…”
“Yeah. I really will go quietly by myself. I’m not changing my mind. You stay here and rest.”
“Alright, alright, Lady Cassia.”
When I spoke firmly, Sophie only shook her head helplessly.
It was something I could easily do alone—no need to make her go through the trouble.
With a hat and cloak, I could go unnoticed and accomplish my purpose quietly.
Sophie, who cooked and cleaned so perfectly, was also incredibly skilled with makeup.
Adolf had said he had handpicked her personally—and as expected of a royal maid, she was exceptional.
After finishing the simple makeup, Sophie held up a mirror.
It had been a while since I’d seen my face with even light makeup.
Not bad. I liked that it wasn’t too flashy.
As I looked in the mirror, Sophie brought over the cloak she had prepared earlier.
“Here, put this on and you’ll be ready to go.”
She draped the cloak over my dress and smiled warmly.
It was time to leave.
With the cloak on, I stepped out of the house.
The capital was already alive with the sounds and lights of the festival.
Nobles and commoners alike filled the streets, celebrating together.
Countless stalls lined the avenues, and everywhere, people spent the festival with their loved ones.
If I’d had the leisure, it would have been fun to wander through the city.
I regretted, just a little, that I hadn’t.
Maybe I should have brought Sophie after all.
With that thought, I headed straight toward the imperial palace.
