Chapter 57
For the first time, she wanted to turn back, but it was already far too late. In front of her was Prince Franz, and behind her stood Allen Zieberman.
‘If you won’t grant my request to the very end… Yes. Then it may as well be a threat. If rumors spread that a lady secretly painted portraits and even sold them for money, what do you think would happen? Would you still be able to remain in the capital, let alone in society?’
‘You just need to do the work properly.’
The two voices tangled in her head, leaving her completely at a loss.
Tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks in a rush of anguish. Her restless heart turned into grief, her unspoken sincerity flowing endlessly as tears.
“Hhhuuuh…”
She only wanted to live diligently on her own strength. But everything had become so twisted—it frightened her.
Why did past mistakes cling to her ankles so stubbornly?
Emotions swirled inside her, endlessly repeating. It had been something she enjoyed, something meaningful, and yet here she was—regretting and loathing herself for it.
Through her tear-blurred vision, a blue box came into sight. Drawn as if bewitched, Iella rose and walked toward it.
She stood before the box, gazing at it silently, then reached out and brushed her hand across it with utmost care, as if it were precious.
Inside lay a dress.
At the sight of it, her guilty heart could not suppress the flutter of joy. Even knowing it wasn’t prepared out of love for her, she was still glad.
Don’t be nervous, Iella.
You’ll do well.
Wishing you to be more beautiful than anyone—
Franz Princeton.
Seeing the card, a wave of sorrow rose up inside her. Hugging the dress tightly, Iella cried and cried as all her pent-up grief poured out.
In that moment, Loren’s voice echoed in her memory.
‘You have power. If it’s something you truly believe is right, then it means you can accomplish it.’
“My strength…”
Before the prince who wished for her to be more beautiful than anyone, she wanted to be more honorable than anyone. To do that, she had to act on what she believed was right.
“It’s late, but even now, I’ll go back. I’ll live properly, with dignity.”
Iella stepped out of the carriage and looked up at the mansion. She forced her stiff lips into a smile, trying to relax her nerves.
“I’ll set things right. I can do this.”
For now, she believed this was the right thing to do. Before deeper regret and guilt could take hold, she resolved to somehow fix this situation. She couldn’t know what complications might arise, but she swore again not to be a coward.
After being shown in by the butler, she waited in the parlor. Soon, Allen Zieberman appeared.
“What brings you here, Lady Clarens?”
“Sorry for coming so suddenly. It looks like you were preparing to go out.”
Allen’s skin shone as if she had just come from a spa treatment.
“I was getting ready for the festival ball tonight. Ah, Lady Clarens, if you’re attending as well, you’ll need quite a bit of preparation. You’re a well-known figure in society now, after all—you must take care of yourself. Oh! Did you bring the portrait?”
So, it’s come to this, thought Iella, and smiled to hide her nerves.
“No. Please take this instead.”
She handed Allen an envelope from her reticule.
“What is this?”
Allen gave her a questioning look before picking it up.
“This is…”
“It’s the 2,000 dena you demanded as a penalty.”
“Why now…? Didn’t you say things were going well?”
“I only took on the request because of you, but from the start I never wanted to do it. I want to set it right.”
At Iella’s resolute tone, Allen studied her for a moment before speaking.
“I’m sorry for what I said that day. That wasn’t my intention.”
“Deceiving him isn’t easy. Living in constant fear of when the prince will discover my lies is unbearable, and I’m sure he already suspects me. He’s been doubtful of my behavior since the first day.”
“Oh dear…”
“Still, this work brought me joy. What once seemed like a noblewoman’s trivial hobby became something that could bring happiness to others—it was rewarding. But I’ve learned now: no matter the joy, if it isn’t honorable, it can’t stand.”
That was why it had become a tool for blackmail. And it made her realize that it could happen again.
“If you like His Highness enough to make such a request, then instead of clinging to mere portraits, you should devote yourself to winning his heart. As for me—I will not continue.”
“I know I was wrong to ask you. I understand I must have hurt you. Honestly, even if you’d refused, I never intended to force you. Please, take this money back. I can’t accept it.”
Allen handed the envelope back.
She knew it had been improper of her. At the time she requested it, her desire to have even a single portrait was so strong that she hadn’t cared about propriety.
Allen Zieberman had always valued noble pride above all else, and was equally strict with herself. But looking back, she couldn’t understand why she had gone so far for just one painting. The regret gnawed at her—especially since she hadn’t even gained the prince’s heart in the end. She, too, wished she could undo it.
“I’m glad you understand.”
Iella was relieved to see Allen handling this rationally instead of unreasonably.
“But why refuse only now?”
“I was too focused on not being caught, and I forgot: only when I feel pride in my work can I hold my head high. I want to live a life where I am the one in charge—not controlled by others.”
“And what will you do now?”
“I won’t continue. Instead, I’ll find a way to paint proudly. I’ve even thought seriously about painting on Manches Street.”
The Clarens family, like the Ziebermans, was long-established nobility with prestige and pride. At the idea of a noblewoman painting in the streets, Allen was openly shocked.
Noble society had strict codes. These rules defined what it meant to be noble, along with the basic cultivation expected of them.
But Lady Clarens’s words strayed far from those principles, leaving Allen unsettled. It could even be called noble arrogance, but she couldn’t help it.
“Why go so far…? Ah—sorry.”
Realizing she had let her thoughts slip, Allen quickly apologized. Iella smiled and assured her it was fine.
“I can’t see it as just a hobby anymore, not after realizing how much joy it can bring to others. It’s truly fulfilling for me.”
“I still don’t understand why you’d go to such lengths, but… it won’t be easy.”
“It’s all right.”
To her, doing what she loved mattered more than being understood.
“And… there’s one more thing I want to say.”
“I thought you’d said everything already. What is it?”
“I… I’ve come to like Prince Franz.”
At the quiet confession, Allen’s eyes widened.
“Of course, in Lapland there’s hardly anyone who doesn’t admire him, so it may be unnecessary to say. But I wanted you to know. Because I know your feelings are genuine—you once told me you wanted to be lady of Grenville for his sake.”
“So you’re telling only me because you won’t tell anyone else?”
“That’s right. Not everyone who admires him does so expecting to win him. I’m the same. My feelings aren’t light, but I have no desire or ability to compete.”
Allen studied her face carefully and saw the truth of her words.
Iella’s honesty surprised her. But it wasn’t incomprehensible—everything she said was true. Compared to foolish women who didn’t know their place, she was almost wise.
“I hope your heart doesn’t change, but honestly, I don’t mind. Like you said, many admire him. That’s part of his charm, isn’t it?”
Though Iella Clarens had indeed grown strikingly beautiful, Allen believed looks alone would never make her a crown princess.
In every way, Allen still believed she was the most fitting candidate. Yet ever since the picnic, the prince’s indifference at every gathering had cooled her own heart little by little.
Still, she wouldn’t admit that aloud. Even had she received the portrait as planned, it would’ve been useless anyway. This little matter was just her petty spite.
“Lady Zieberman, please take this.”
As she was seen off, Iella handed her a rolled parchment before boarding her carriage.
“It’s instead of the commissioned portrait. I’m sorry for quitting halfway when you must have waited.”
Allen untied the ribbon and unrolled it. There she was, smiling brightly as she danced in a ballroom. The painting was so vivid it looked like a real scene.
Unable to speak at first, Allen finally looked up with a smile matching the one in the painting.
“Thank you. It’s a wonderful picture. I was very disappointed before, but this makes up for it.”
“I’m glad you like it. Then, I’ll be going.”
After Iella’s carriage departed, Allen remained standing for a long time, staring down at the painting.
