~Chapter 98~
‘A new painting, huh…’
I sat in front of the blank canvas, lost in thought.
The contest organizers had said the grand prize winner would have to present a new painting at the award ceremony.
The theme was free.
‘Funny enough, it’s actually harder when there’s no theme.’
It was probably their way of saying, “Show us your true style,” or maybe it was because they expected me, as the winner, to handle any subject well.
They had also said that if time was tight, I could just bring one of my older works instead.
‘Something good enough already…’
My eyes drifted toward a canvas lying face-down.
I froze, then quickly shook my head.
“No. Not that one.”
That was Damien’s portrait—the one I drew without his permission.
There was no way I could reveal it as a new piece at the award ceremony.
And yet… I couldn’t stop drawing it.
What had started as a faint sketch of Damien’s face grew clearer and more detailed every time my hand moved, adding more lines and colors.
‘Am I being pulled to it unconsciously?’
The more vivid it became, the stronger I felt drawn to it.
I wanted to finish it.
Somehow, Damien’s portrait was turning into that kind of painting.
‘But can I really draw something else?’
As I struggled, a knock came at the door.
“Ruby, may I come in?”
It was Damien’s voice.
“Yes, come in!” I called back.
He opened the door halfway, but then froze when he saw the canvas in front of me. Quickly, he covered his eyes with his hand.
“Ah, forgive me! You’re working on the new contest piece, aren’t you?”
The contest organizers had asked me to keep the new painting strictly secret.
Even close friends weren’t supposed to see it.
Damien knew this since he had read the letter with me. Realizing he had almost peeked, he turned his back and kept his eyes covered.
“I’ll leave right away. Keep working comfortably.”
“I haven’t even started sketching yet, so it’s fine. Come in.”
At my words, Damien turned back, lowering his hand.
When he saw the pure white canvas, he relaxed, then sat down on the bed nearby, as usual.
“I didn’t expect them to ask for a new painting. Is that normal?”
“No. As far as I know, it changes every year. Last year’s winner didn’t have to present one.”
It seemed there wasn’t a strict rule. Maybe they asked when there was enough time before the ceremony, or canceled the request if they thought the work might cause controversy.
“You’re not overworking, are you? Not planning to stay up all night painting…?”
“Thankfully, no.”
I smiled, and Damien looked relieved.
“Good. Though, with how fast you draw, I wasn’t too worried.”
Then he held out his hand.
“If you have some time, why don’t we take a tea break? They brought in a new set of pastries—your favorite flavor.”
“Uh, hmm…”
I glanced at the blank canvas, torn.
“Martin also baked fresh eyeball marshmallows.”
That settled it.
“Then let’s go.”
Without hesitation, I grabbed Damien’s hand and left the room.
In the rose garden, a luxurious white table was set up with a three-tier tray of pastries and a mountain of eyeball marshmallows.
“Don’t you think it’s better to take small breaks and clear your mind while painting?” Damien suggested.
“You’re right.”
I popped an eyeball marshmallow into my mouth and bit down.
Sweet strawberry jam burst out, coating my tongue.
The taste instantly lifted my mood.
“This tea is new too? The fragrance is lovely.”
“Isn’t it?”
“It smells of roses—it matches the garden perfectly.”
“That must be why the maid set the table here.”
As I sipped the rose-scented tea, I gazed at the wide, blooming rose garden.
The soil that had been torn up during the second ritual was restored perfectly, and the roses were fresh and dazzling again.
“…By the way, Damien.”
“Yes, Ruby?”
I lifted the teacup, sipping calmly before casually asking—
“Someday… if I were to paint your portrait, what would you think?”
Please don’t notice. Please just answer naturally.
Damien blinked at me quietly, then answered.
“I would be very happy.”
I blinked in surprise. That was not the answer I expected.
“Even if I were to present it publicly someday?”
“Yes.”
He smiled.
“That’s why I was so glad when you included my face in your contest painting before. It wasn’t a solo portrait, but still.”
I had his permission then, but I never realized he would actually like it this much.
“If it were a portrait just of me, I’d be even happier. Because while painting, you’d be thinking of me, watching me closely.”
His violet eyes softened as they curved into a gentle smile.
“Ruby, you always put affection into your subjects. I’m sure it would be wonderful.”
Those eyes, smiling like the moon, made my heart waver.
It almost felt like he wanted me to paint him.
‘Thank goodness.’
I no longer felt guilty for sketching him.
Now I could breathe life into that portrait.
“Those are all the instructions.”
The Emperor tapped the meeting papers, addressing the princes and princesses.
“The Imperial Contest will attract many nobles who care for the arts. Make sure to attend. Even just showing your face is enough.”
But at the far end of the table, Leonard wasn’t listening.
‘Why… why is she…’
In his trembling hands was the contest winners list.
On it was the name: “Gustav Milleono (Rubiana Maledictus).”
As he stared, the memory returned—
That day at the Imperial Academy, when he had run into the infuriating Maledictus couple.
“Ah, except for Leonard,” the Emperor suddenly said.
Leonard’s head shot up.
“…Me, Your Majesty?”
“Yes.”
The Emperor frowned.
“You are still under probation. And if you see the Duchess, you’ll cause another commotion.”
“Meaning…”
“You will not attend this event.”
It was like a bolt from the blue.
Never once had Leonard been excluded from a major imperial event. His face twisted with shock.
“Your Majesty, please hear me out!”
He shot up from his seat, drawing everyone’s attention.
‘Skipping this event?’
If he didn’t attend, the rumors would be endless.
All his brothers and sisters would go, but he alone would be left out?
That humiliation was unbearable.
“I’ve already reflected! Please, allow me to attend just this once—”
But the Emperor cut him off coldly.
“There is no benefit in provoking Rubiana Maledictus anymore. Better to use her soul contract as a reason to make her absorb more curses.”
The Emperor’s sharp golden eyes bore into Leonard.
“And you’re only getting in the way.”
The force of it silenced Leonard instantly.
“Stay under probation.”
With that final order, Leonard sank back into his chair, lips sealed.
But inside him, black fury was boiling.
‘Stay still, you say?’
Grinding his teeth, Leonard hatched a wicked plan.
‘Fine then. I’ll stay still… but strike from afar.’
He would use his probation as an alibi—while plotting a remote attack against the Maledictus couple.
