MLCDF 101

MLCDF | Chapter 101

~Chapter 101~

[Unfair, unfair, unfair.]

[I never cheated. I never cheated, I only loved my man—]

[Rotten eggs? Reusing them? I never did that. Unfair, unfair. Who was it? Who was it, who was it…?]

The Baron was weighed down by countless curses.
Perhaps the heaviness of his body wasn’t only from his fat, but from those curses clinging to him.

They were all born from the negative emotions of victims ruined by his lies and false rumors.

And unfortunately for him, many of those victims’ families were present in the banquet hall today.

“W-What are you saying! I never—”

“Shut your mouth, Magett!!”

Robert Calvin’s furious voice roared through the hall.

“You denied it back then too, didn’t you? And then you spread lies that we used rotten eggs just because we refused your deal?!”

He jabbed his finger in rage, grabbing a flower vase and charging at the Baron.

“Because of you, my parents and brother, who put everything into that business, were ruined!!”

“Eeek!”

Pale as death, the Baron jumped up and bolted.

“There! Get that murderer!”

The other victims’ families chased after him.

“It was him! He’s the one who drove my wife to suicide…!”
“That bastard deserves to have his limbs broken!”

“W-Wait, please, honored guests, calm down—”

Thud!

The staff tried to stop them, but the families’ fury couldn’t be contained.
A fist struck the Baron.

“Arghh! I-I was wrong! Please, forgive me! Spare me!”

His desperate screams filled the hall.
But not a single person stepped in to help him.

‘All I did was say he was the source of the rumors, and the families immediately believed me.’

They must have already suspected him for a long time, and the evidence was too strong.
Otherwise, they wouldn’t have accepted my word so easily.

By the time the Baron was dragged onto a stretcher by staff, both his eyes were swollen black and blue, and some of his teeth were broken.

Half-conscious, he lifted his head—and our eyes met.

He trembled violently, as if struck by a seizure.

“Y-Your Grace the Duchess… I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry! Forgive me for being so rude…!”

I simply looked down at him coldly.
Even seeing him beaten to a pulp, I felt no pity.

But then Damien unexpectedly approached him.
He leaned down and whispered something into his ear.

“Eek!”

The Baron let out a strangled scream—then fainted on the spot.

Watching him being carried away, I asked Damien:

“…What did you say to him?”

“Ah.”

Damien gave a chilling smile.

“I asked him if he happened to have a spare eyeball.”

It was a fresh, almost refreshing smile on the surface—yet terrifying to the core.

“I reminded him that no one knows better than he does what happened to his wife when she tried to provoke us.”

I nodded and watched the stretcher disappear.

“You’re right.”

And just like that, the suspicion that I had “abandoned the old noble and switched to Damien” was completely crushed in an instant.

Part 2

After all the chaos, the second part of the ceremony started ten minutes late.

“We will now begin Part Two of the event.”

This part was the sponsorship selection for the contest winners.

Patrons would shout out how much they could offer in support, and artists would choose their sponsor.

Normally, artists chose the patron who offered the highest amount.
Some criticized it as an “auction,” but since the contract terms were made public, it reduced betrayal or sudden switching.

“Now then, we will begin the sponsorship selection for the Grand Prize winner, Gustav Milleono!”

One by one, famous patrons—big names in the art world—stood before me.

‘I don’t lack money at all… but having a famous sponsor itself builds a career.’

I glanced at a man with gray eyes and a white wig, sharp gaze scanning every artwork.

‘It’d be great if he picked me.’

Marquis Pierre Mercolini.
Known as frugal to the point of stinginess—except when he found an artist he truly admired.
Then, his support was astronomical, and every artist he sponsored had become a success.

“50,000 gold annually.”

An old man raised his hand first.
That was already higher than the final bid for the gold prize winner.

“Theme is free, but I’d like to commission a family portrait.”

Another noblewoman raised her hand.

“70,000 annually, absolutely free theme. I will never interfere with your work.”

Not bad.
The amount was smaller than last year’s grand prize, but the condition was excellent.

‘And the Langurni family’s sponsorship is always good for a career.’

“1 million annually. With a condition of painting portraits, but I’ll fund your exhibitions fully.”

The bids began rising.

“1.1 million.”
“1.2 million.”

It looked like it would reach, maybe surpass, last year’s record.

And then—

“2 million.”

Someone suddenly called out an enormous amount.

‘Huh?!’

The voice belonged to—

“Without any restrictions.”

Damien.

‘Wait. What?!’

People immediately began murmuring.

“Isn’t that the Grand Duke?”
“He wants to sponsor his own wife…?”

He already gave me millions as part of our marriage, and now he was trying to sponsor me again?

If it went through, he’d have to give me an additional 2 million gold every year.
That was too much—I couldn’t let him do it.

Just as I was about to speak up—

“2.2 million.”

A firm voice rang out.

It was Marquis Mercolini.

“No restrictions. Only condition: at least three artworks a year.”

“2.2 million! Anyone willing to go higher?”

The host looked around.
No one raised a hand.

Damien gave a satisfied smile.

“What an incredible sum! Artist, will you make your final decision?”

“Yes. I choose Marquis Mercolini.”

“Congratulations! The sponsorship has been finalized!”

For the first time, Marquis Mercolini’s lips curved upward slightly.

After the Ceremony

I immediately approached him.

“You’ve come, Artist. Or should I say… Your Grace the Duchess?”

His expression had softened noticeably.

“Please call me whatever you like. I’m deeply grateful for your sponsorship.”

“No, it’s I who should thank you. It’s been so long since an artist truly moved my heart.”

Our conversation ended well, and we agreed to arrange a visit soon to finalize the contract.

Then I hurried back to Damien.

“Damien, the talk with the Marquis went well. But why on earth did you raise your hand like that?! What if you really had to pay 2 million?”

But Damien looked completely unconcerned, even smiling with satisfaction.

“You wanted to be matched with Marquis Mercolini, didn’t you? That’s why I did it.”

“…What?”

“I’ve seen the records. Every year, he always bids just a little higher than the highest offer—1,000 or 2,000 more—and wins the sponsorship. So I deliberately pushed the price up.”

I blinked. He’d done it on purpose.

“Well, he already seemed to like your work, so you were almost guaranteed anyway. But since you said a higher sponsorship improves your career, I thought I’d help raise the value.”

“…And if no one outbid you? You’d have had to pay me 2 million.”