~Chapter 77~
The art exhibition of the late Marquis of Linchester.
The weekend sunlight was warm. I rode in a carriage with my parents to attend the exhibition held in the capital.
“Oh my, just as expected… there are really so many visitors, aren’t there?”
“Yes, there are.”
The area near the exhibition hall was bustling. Since it was already the weekend, the capital was crowded, and with the addition of all the people coming to see the Linchester Marquis’s exhibition, the crowd was even bigger.
From nobles and famous figures in the art world to the artists he had once supported—
the late Marquis Linchester had been well known as a passionate collector. So, naturally, countless people came to see the valuable works he had gathered.
Quietly, I followed my parents and looked around the exhibition.
Come to think of it, in all of my past life and this one, this was the first time I had gone somewhere like this with my parents.
Spending a leisurely weekend, or visiting an art exhibition together as a family… it was all new to me.
“Duke and Duchess Hartmann, and Lady Irene. Welcome to the exhibition.”
While we were viewing the works, a man appeared before us.
It was the current Marquis of Linchester, who had inherited the title from his late father.
“Ah, Marquis Linchester. A pleasure to see you.”
With a practiced social smile, Father and Mother began their greetings.
“We came with our daughter today for a weekend outing, and there are truly many visitors. The exhibition seems to be a great success.”
“Haha. Thank you. Most of the people here are those who once had ties with my father.”
“The artworks are very impressive as well. I wonder how the late Marquis managed to collect such valuable pieces one by one…”
There really were many things to see at the exhibition.
Even for someone like me, who didn’t really know much about art, the works all looked extraordinary.
‘Harry would have loved to come here too…’
Thinking of the painter Harry, I suddenly spoke to the Marquis of Linchester.
“I heard the late Marquis was very devoted to supporting talented artists.”
“…That’s right. My father truly loved art.”
The Marquis smiled at me and continued.
“Although he had more talent for business than art itself and could not become an artist, he used the money he earned from business to support promising figures in the art world. This exhibition also has the same purpose.”
As if remembering his father, the Marquis gazed for a moment at the busy hall filled with people.
With a faint, nostalgic smile, he turned back to us.
“Please enjoy your time. Also, some of the works from the young artists my father supported will be put up for auction. If you happen to find a piece you like, I would appreciate your interest.”
“Thank you for your kind guidance. I’m sure the late Marquis would be very pleased with this exhibition.”
“Thank you.”
The Marquis smiled politely, then moved away with the staff.
Once he had gone, Father turned to me and said in a gentle tone:
“Did you hear, Irene? There will also be an auction. If there’s a painting you’d like, just tell us anytime.”
“…Yes. Thank you, even for just saying that.”
To be honest, I was still not fully used to going out together with my parents.
I gave them a slightly awkward smile—when suddenly, someone caught my eye.
“…Huh?”
A short distance away, a man was standing alone.
He was quietly standing in front of a painting, just staring at it.
…Why was he here?
I froze in place, simply looking at him.
“From now on, we will begin the auction of works by new artists.”
The host’s voice echoed. The noisy crowd quickly turned their eyes to the stage.
My parents and I also sat in the chairs prepared for the auction participants.
I didn’t really have a painting I wanted, but we sat down to watch. Father also suggested that we sit, in case I happened to want something.
During the auction, I kept glancing to the side.
A man was sitting far away with his arms crossed, staring at the stage.
The Second Prince, Freddie.
The one I was watching was the Second Prince of the Empire, with black curly hair.
Surprisingly, he had been quietly looking around the exhibition earlier.
I narrowed my eyes.
‘…It’s him. The real villain who tries to harm Albert in the novel.’
My gaze fell to the ring on his finger.
On his second finger, a silver ring gleamed faintly.
Every time the story described the point of view of the one plotting against Albert, that ring was always shown in close-up.
‘So what is he scheming here this time…?’
Just then, Freddie, who had been staring silently ahead, raised his hand.
“Two thousand gold.”
Huh?
Looking forward, I saw the painting Freddie was watching was now up for auction.
Oh. It seemed he liked that painting.
I smirked. Suddenly, a good idea popped into my mind.
I leaned toward my parents and whispered.
“Dad. I want that painting.”
It was an impulsive decision.
Honestly, I just wanted to interfere with Freddie. Even if it was simply buying a painting he wanted.
That man, always plotting and pulling strings from behind—just thinking about him annoyed me.
Because of his constant attempts to assassinate Albert, I could never relax during our travels!
And besides, stopping him in any way… that had to be helping the main characters.
“Hm? Really? Irene, you want that painting?”
“Yes. I definitely want to buy it and hang it in our mansion.”
I nodded firmly at Father.
“I see…”
I caught it then. A spark lit in Father’s eyes as he answered.
Soon, with a solemn expression, Father turned toward the stage.
“If there are no more bidders, the final bid goes to His Highness the Second Prince—”
“Three thousand gold.”
“…Ah.”
The sudden higher bid made people turn to look at us.
Freddie’s eyes flickered toward us too. Then he raised his hand again.
“…Three thousand five hundred gold.”
“Four thousand gold.”
“…”
Freddie looked at us as if to ask, what on earth are you doing?
“…Four thousand five hundred gold.”
Normally, when a high-ranking royal like a prince joined the auction, others gave up quickly out of caution.
But my father, Duke Hartmann, clearly had no intention of backing down.
“Five thousand gold.”
“Five thousand five hundred gold.”
“Six thousand gold.”
The price shot up quickly in five-hundred increments.
The people around us now watched with great interest, their eyes darting back and forth between Freddie and Father.
My heart pounded. Sweat trickled down my back.
‘Seriously, who bids five hundred gold like it’s a dog’s name?’
Well… in families as rich as Irene’s, it could be a dog’s name…!
‘Still, this is crazy…!’
At that moment, after the price climbed to eight thousand gold, Freddie paused briefly, then spoke.
“Ten thousand gold.”
Gasps spread around the room.
Ten thousand gold. It was by far the highest bid so far today.
Even the host and the exhibition staff were smiling, clearly pleased with how exciting the auction had become.
I glanced at Father. He silently stared at the painting with an unreadable expression.
Since he didn’t speak, the host assumed he had given up.
“The final bidder is His Highness, the Second Prince—”
“One hundred thousand.”
“…What?”
The host blinked in shock, looking at Father. Father spoke again.
“I will buy that painting for one hundred thousand gold.”
