Chapter 62
After the meal, they moved to the outdoor tearoom where teatime continued. The atmosphere there was just as cheerful and warm as it had been during the meal.
Franz lifted his teacup to his lips, wearing a gentle smile.
It was rare to find someone who wasn’t boring when conversing about politics or business, but in that regard, Bernie Linton was quite a good conversational partner. As a woman running a trading business, she had a wide range of topics and led the discussion into engaging stories.
Madam Linton was not at all ostentatious in conversation. She made others feel comfortable, matched the mood at the right moments, and understood precisely what he meant.
She had the talent and boldness of a natural-born entrepreneur. It was almost a pity she had been born a woman.
The others also enjoyed their time with Franz. Of course, the exception was Iella.
When Franz caught her uneasy, wavering gaze, he mouthed silently without making a sound:
“Smile.”
Faced with her desperate eyes, Franz instead gave her a deep smile.
“I noticed earlier that there are many paintings in your reception room and hallways. It seems you’ve hired a rather skilled painter.”
“Oh, thank you for your kind words. They aren’t a painter’s work—it’s the handiwork of my niece, Iella.”
Franz looked at Iella in surprise and let out an admiring exclamation.
“Oh, really? The paintings were so meticulous. The brushstrokes were elegant yet full of strength. I assumed they were done by a seasoned artist, but it was Lady Clarence who painted them.”
“It’s true that Iella is quite talented.”
“I agree. Count Clarence, you must be proud to have such a gifted daughter.”
“I’m humbled by such high praise. Thank you.”
Visitors to the manor had often complimented the paintings as being good or well done, but this was the first time Nigel Clarence had heard such detailed and open praise. He was greatly uplifted.
“The portrait of my sister hanging in the reception hall, as well as our family portrait displayed at our main house, were both painted by Iella. She’s a very talented child.”
Nigel looked warmly at Iella with a pleased smile.
Iella returned the smile, but she was startled when Franz spoke next, her eyes widening as she turned sharply toward him.
“In that case, may I ask you to paint my portrait, Lady Clarence? It would be most wonderful to have a portrait by you hanging in Grenville Palace.”
“…What?”
Everyone was caught completely off guard by this unexpected suggestion, staring at Franz in astonishment, unsure if they’d heard him correctly.
Under his steady gaze, waiting for an answer, Iella wanted to openly ask, “What on earth are you doing?”
His acting skills were enough to rival a professional actor’s. No—with that face, he could probably be an actor.
She pleaded with her eyes for him to stop, but Franz ignored her silent desperation.
“Ah, of course, I should first seek Count Clarence’s permission.”
Meeting Franz’s gaze, Nigel Clarence could not answer right away. The proposal filled him with indescribable honor, yet hesitation was inevitable.
After all, Iella was a young woman—just barely within the marriageable age range. As her guardian, it was natural for him to worry about his daughter, who was still so inexperienced and only beginning to blossom.
“Perhaps I’ve put you in a difficult position with this request.”
“No, it isn’t that. It’s just… this would be a portrait of His Highness the Prince. I worry whether my daughter might fall short.”
“I’ve seen her skill with my own eyes—there’s no need to worry about that. That’s precisely why I’m making this request. In fact, Lady Clarence seems to share Madam Linton’s boldness.”
Bernie Linton smiled kindly as she observed Franz and Iella. But behind that gentle smile, her eyes gleamed like a hawk’s.
“Iella is indeed mature and ambitious for her age. She’s gifted not only in painting but in many ways, and I cherish her dearly. While I’m grateful His Highness values her talent so highly, I cannot deny there are social concerns. What are your thoughts on this?”
It was a great honor, both personally and for their family, but the only real concern was Iella herself.
If rumors spread beyond the truth, would they be able to endure it? Could she be kept safe in such circumstances? Was this truly worth it, even considering all that?
Franz responded calmly:
“A passage from a book comes to mind: ‘The bird breaks out of the egg. The egg is the world. To be born, one must destroy a world.’ I heard Madam Linton faced many hardships after Admiral George Linton passed away. But she pressed forward, believing in herself and her world—that’s why she stands where she is today. There’s no law forbidding women from entering the Royal Academy of Arts. If Lady Clarence is truly this skilled, there’s no reason women shouldn’t be admitted in the future. Does that answer your question?”
“It does, sufficiently.”
It was a strong, unwavering statement from someone who recognized Iella’s true worth. To have someone who saw her value meant having someone who gave her the strength to live her own life.
“What do you think?”
Bernie Linton asked the Clarence couple. They felt they should refuse, yet they couldn’t find a valid reason to.
Of course, they wished for Iella, who would soon cross into the realm of “unmarried old maid,” to marry into a good household. But if that did not happen? Since childhood, she had loved painting more than anything, and now an opportunity had come to display her skills. They couldn’t simply dismiss it.
Nigel and Laura exchanged glances, then nodded before turning to Iella.
“Iella, what do you think? Before we decide, your opinion matters most.”
Before answering her father, Iella cautiously glanced at Franz.
He sat calmly sipping tea, unlike her nervous self. It was maddening. And now, in a situation where she couldn’t possibly refuse his request, the words she had to say were already clear.
“I’ll do it. I want to, Father.”
“Very well. If that’s what you want, then we agree too.”
The next day, Iella and Betty departed for Grenville with a grand send-off. After taking the medicine sent from the palace the previous night, the red spots had quickly vanished without a trace.
Upon arriving at Grenville, Iella encountered Franz just as he was about to leave the palace. When he tried to pass by without acknowledging her, she hurriedly caught him.
“Please, wait—I need to talk to you.”
“That’s unexpected. Yesterday you were so silent, like a dumb mute who’d swallowed honey, I thought you had nothing to say to me.”
His voice was icy cold, enough to chill her.
“…”
At his blatant criticism, Iella flinched as if wounded. Betty, Murray, and Hans, standing nearby, felt the same.
Franz sighed heavily. With a glance, he signaled Murray and Hans to leave.
“Betty, could you step aside for a moment?”
“Yes, my lady.”
Once only the two of them remained, Franz checked his watch and spoke curtly.
“I’m busy, so state your business quickly.”
“You’re being cowardly.”
Though she had no right to complain, his behavior just now had hurt her deeply. He had forced her into a situation where refusal was impossible, yet he continued to criticize and dismiss her. It was no different from saying she must endure any reproach or scorn.
“Why? You can now come and go from Grenville openly. I thought you’d be pleased.”
Franz crossed his arms, sneering.
“Cowardly, you said? Life itself is cowardly. I don’t see why you’re blaming me. Isn’t this what they call blaming others for your own faults?”
“…Please… Franz.”
“Just do what you need to do. It’s not that hard, is it?”
With that, Franz turned away coldly. Leaving the dazed Iella behind, he climbed into his carriage without a second glance.
Inside, the carriage was steeped in silence. Franz sat with a hardened face, staring blankly out the window.
Hans, gauging his master’s mood, cautiously spoke up.
“Surely the young lady didn’t mean it intentionally. Wouldn’t it be best to forgive her now?”
“You really think so? That it wasn’t intentional?”
“Even if not, perhaps she had her own circumstances.”
“Circumstances, hm… Yes, everyone has their own. Who doesn’t? But circumstances are circumstances—and promises are promises.”
“Doesn’t Your Highness pity her at all?”
At Franz’s cold response, Hans bristled with indignation. He understood, but wasn’t this too harsh?
“If you show pity and overlook things, you risk being betrayed twice over.”
“Surely it wouldn’t go that far…”
“Enough. Since when have you two gotten so close that you take her side like this?”
Under Franz’s sharp gaze, Hans cleared his throat awkwardly.
“I wasn’t trying to take sides, Your Highness.”
“With people like you supporting her, I’m sure she’ll manage just fine.”
Giving up wasn’t even an option. If anything, he’d only press harder. Hans knew well enough how the prince’s nature worked—it was easy to guess.
Sigh. At times like this, the wisest course was to simply leave him be. To push further was like tugging at the whiskers of a sleeping lion.
Iella stood motionless, staring blankly after the departing carriage until it was completely out of sight.
“Shall we head inside, my lady?”
Murray’s voice finally snapped her out of her thoughts once the carriage was gone.
“I’ll go in a little later.”
She shook her head quietly. Murray stayed by her side, also watching until the carriage had vanished completely.
“He may seem very angry now, but I’m sure he’ll calm down soon. I’ve watched him since he was young—he’s not someone who can stay cruel.”
Though duty and responsibility made him stern, sometimes cold to the point of being harsh, the prince had also grown up receiving plenty of love. Perhaps because of that, he had a broad, gentle heart. Not soft, but certainly not merciless either.
