“I heard the painter came by today. How was it? Did you like him? Gazeff told me he’s especially skilled with portraits.”
“Yes. He’s incredibly talented. But…”
"But?"
"I made a mistake."
Alicia’s shoulders slumped.
“A mistake? What kind of mistake?”
“He suggested I try learning to paint and even try drawing myself… and I ended up saying yes.”
"How is that a mistake?"
Cabelenus responded casually.
“I should’ve gotten Your Highness’s permission first. It wasn’t something I should’ve decided on my own.”
This was why it was dangerous to enjoy good things.
Because even a moment of carelessness would allow greed to slip in and lead to mistakes.
Alicia let out a faint sigh, her face contorted in a slight grimace.
Cabelenus clicked his tongue and stepped in front of the dispirited Alicia.
"You’re permitted to approve something like that on your own. Don’t wear such a guilty expression."
"But…"
"You’ll be handling far greater things. If something this small scares you, that’s going to be a problem."
“Greater things?”
Alicia slowly lifted her head and looked up at Cabelenus.
“Yes. Something very big.”
Cabelenus placed his hand gently on her shoulder.
"I'll do anything."
“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask of you.”
“I can do anything for Your Highness.”
Alicia’s slender hand grabbed the back of Cabelenus’s.
She meant it.
It wasn’t just words — Alicia truly could do anything for Cabelenus.
“Just hearing that is an honour.”
A smile tugged at Cabelenus’s lips.
Alicia smiled with him, her cheeks flushing pink.
“I didn’t assign Madame Morco to you for no reason. If anything becomes a problem, she’ll handle it. So don’t burden yourself with it — just take it easy.”
Cabelenus's thumb gently brushed along the corner of Alicia's eye.
With her gaze slightly lowered, Alicia focused intently on the touch of his fingertips.
His slow, sweeping caress felt like a quiet comfort meant to soothe her.
“And besides, things are going to get noisy for a while. It’s better to have something to keep your mind on.”
“Noisy? What do you mean?”
“You don’t need to worry about it. It’ll be taken care of soon enough.”
Cabelenus pressed a brief kiss to Alicia’s forehead.
Alicia didn’t resist when Cabelenus pulled her close and leaned against his chest.
She found comfort in the steady pounding of his heart and the warmth she felt through the thin fabric.
At that moment, she even foolishly wished time would just stop.
・・・・・
"It seems you really have talent."
At James’s compliment, Alicia blushed and glanced at the canvas.
The portrait of her mother, which she and James had worked on together step by step, was nearing completion.
Once the paint fully dried and they applied one last coat, it would truly be finished.
“It would’ve been impossible without James’s help.”
She didn’t want to cry, but seeing her mother smiling in the portrait made her voice unexpectedly choke up.
In the painting, her mother, adorned with a beautiful dress and jewels, looked like an elegant lady, not the monster everyone had pointed fingers at.
That fact made her so happy that she couldn’t help but smile.
“I’m only assisting you for now, but later, you’ll be able to draw well on your own.”
"But, I don’t have the confidence to do it alone……."
"You don’t need to overthink it. It doesn’t have to be just portraits — you can paint landscapes, still lifes, anything you like. Just paint what you enjoy. After all, painting is ultimately a record."
“A record?"
Alicia tilted her head in puzzlement.
“Even if a person dies, the painting remains. It makes the moment captured on the canvas last forever. That’s why I love painting. To me, a painting is the part of the heart that’s recorded eternally.”
“...”
“The more you draw, the more your skills improve. So don’t feel too pressured — just comfortably draw whatever you feel like. After all, the most beautiful painting in the world is one that contains the heart. That’s what I believe.”
James pulled out a sketchbook from the art supplies he’d brought.
He then extended it to her, and without really thinking, Alicia took the sketchbook.
“This is a spare sketchbook I carry around.”
"Sketchbook?"
“Whenever something comes to mind or I want to draw, I quickly sketch it down to keep a record. I’ll give you one too — fill it with whatever you want. It’ll definitely help.”
"Thank you."
James smiled in response to Alicia’s smile.
“Looks like today’s class is already coming to an end."
Madame Morco, aware of the delicate mood between the two, promptly intervened.
She already knew Alicia liked Cabelenus, but better safe than sorry.
The young painter was so beautiful that even the experienced Madame Morco’s heart fluttered for no reason.
It wouldn’t be strange at all if Alicia, in the prime of her youth, felt her heart wavering.
"I wonder why the lessons always finish so quickly."
Alicia expressed her disappointment openly, letting her shoulders slump.
She enjoyed learning.
Everything was both unfamiliar and fascinating, and just as much, exciting.
Every time she experienced a new world, the senses she had forgotten came back to life.
It made her realise clearly that she was really alive.
"If you feel it’s too soon to stop, would you like to continue learning?"
"Hmm?"
“If my lady is okay with it, I can watch over you a bit longer while you sketch.”
“Would that be alright?”
James’s smile deepened as he looked into Alicia’s eyes, which sparkled like a child’s.
Having been strictly ordered to keep quiet, he was both curious and fearful about how remarkable this person really was.
But when he actually met her, she was just a woman with clear eyes, and James didn’t dislike the innocent young lady who earnestly tried to learn everything.
In fact, he felt quite fond of her.
She had qualities that set her apart from typical nobles.
"There are more things to draw in the world than you might realise. The way you see things when you’re simply looking is definitely different from when you decide to draw something. You might not have a clear sense of what to draw yet, so today, I’ll help guide you."
“In that case, I won’t refuse.”
Alicia nodded shyly.
Making her own judgments and decisions now felt fairly natural.
・・・・・
"Are you very cold?"
James looked at Alicia with worried eyes.
The woman, trembling despite being bundled up in a thick coat, looked pitiful.
"No. It's bearable."
Alicia shook her head, her face pale.
Though much time had passed, she still hadn’t gotten used to the bitter cold.
Nonetheless, Alicia tried to straighten her back rather than shrink away from the chill.
The people of Schwarhan whom she’d met so far didn’t seem affected by the cold.
So Alicia hoped she could get used to Schwarhan’s cold as soon as possible.
Being different meant standing out, but at the same time, it also meant not fitting in anywhere.
Alicia no longer wanted to remain a stranger.
"You must be sensitive to the cold.”
“I come from a place with no winter. This is actually the first time I’ve seen snow.”
Her frozen breath broke into white puffs.
Alicia paused her sketching and quietly looked up at the sky.
Her memories of Neustein were still vivid, but at this point, she could barely even guess which direction Neustein was in.
“If there’s no winter, are you from the southern region?”
"Yes. That's right."
"You must miss your hometown."
"Miss it…"
Alicia stared blankly at her drifting white breath.
The cold here was so brutal that those who survived were considered remarkable.
Compared to Neustein’s year-round warmth, Schwarhan’s bitter cold naturally brought to mind what Madame Morco called “the land forsaken by God.”
Even so, Alicia liked this frozen land.
The biting cold was painful, but it also made her keenly aware that she was alive.
"Even if you forget for a while, your hometown is something that comes back to your mind. Someday, you might find yourself missing it."
"Do you really think so?"
Alicia gave a vague reply, avoided James’s gaze, and resumed moving her halted hand.
She didn’t want to talk deeply about what her hometown meant to her.
"That's why I came back here."
“Are you from another region, too, James?”
“I was born here, but I actually lived in the capital longer than in Schwarhan.”
“If it’s the capital of Blanche, then it’s Alaugust, right?”
Since she spent most of her time reading books, her knowledge grew by the day.
Alicia tilted her head as she recalled the glamorous images of the capital she had seen in the books.
“Yes. After studying painting there, I travelled around a bit before returning to Schwarhan. I was curious about the wider world.”
"You must have travelled for a long time."
Curiosity flickered across Alicia’s face.
James’s smile deepened slightly.
“If it weren’t for the grilled salmon, I’d probably still be wandering the world.”
"Grilled salmon?"
“It’s a dish where fresh salmon is simply salted and grilled whole. Simple, but surprisingly delicious. Especially when I eat grilled salmon, I like to tear into the whole fish. Even if my face and hands get covered in soot and dripping oil, eating it that way makes me feel like I’m truly enjoying it.”
"..."
“Surprising, isn’t it?”
James nodded lightly as if he already knew everything.
He was well aware of how people perceived him.
“People only see what’s visible and form their opinions accordingly. But that’s just a subjective perspective. You can't really say you truly know someone based on that. It’s a bad habit. Even so, for someone who paints, having that subjectivity is necessary.”
"..."
"You don’t have to simply draw exactly what you see. If you do, everyone’s drawings would end up looking the same."
James pointed to Alicia’s sketch with his hand.
From the very beginning, Alicia’s skill wasn’t bad.
That was why her skills improved noticeably just by properly learning the basics. However, her sketches still carried a strong sense of stillness.
It was quite different from when she drew her mother’s portrait.
"There’s no set form in drawing. Just relax your mind a little and simply draw whatever you want to, my lady."
“If it’s something I want to draw…”
Alicia’s hand reflexively tensed.
In fact, there was one more person she wanted to draw besides her mother.
"Alicia."
For a moment, she heard a low voice.
Alicia blinked slowly.
At first, she thought she had misheard, but it wasn’t a mistake.
Cabelenus was standing right behind her.
"Your Highness."
Alicia quickly turned around to greet him.
From the moment she became aware of his presence, a smile naturally spread across her face.
“What on earth are you doing out here? Aren’t you cold?”
Cabelenus naturally pulled Alicia closer to his side.
He didn’t know how long she had been outside, but her body felt freezing cold.
Gently stroking her icy hands, he clicked his tongue in concern.
She was already so frail — he worried she might catch a cold like this.
"I'm in class."
"I thought today’s class was already over."
Cabelenus knew Alicia’s entire schedule well.
It wasn’t class time now.
Since he understood that better than anyone, Cabelenus found the view outside the window deeply unsettling.
He had endured it for a while, but finally stopped what he was doing and even walked all the way here.
Cabelenus let out a short, bitter laugh as he thought of the mountain of paperwork piled up in his office.
Schwarhan hadn’t hosted a distinguished guest in a long time.
Due to the harsh era focused solely on survival, the party culture here paled in comparison to the capital’s.
He was overwhelmed with backlogs from being away, plus the upcoming delegation visit — there was no end to the busyness.
“It’s an extended lesson. When I was disappointed that class ended, James kindly offered to give me extra sessions.”
Seeing Cabelenus at this hour was a rare occurrence.
Like a child receiving a surprise gift, Alicia chattered excitedly.
But unlike her excitement, Cabelenus only furrowed his brows slightly.
"James?"
“Oh, Your Highness hasn’t met James?”
Again, it was James.
Cabelenus’s brow furrowed much more noticeably than before, but Alicia still didn’t realise it.
"...Is he the painter?"
“Yes, James Nixon. He’s the teacher who’s been teaching me how to paint.”
As Alicia turned her head toward James, Cabelenus’s head followed suit.
A rising artist who had spent many years away and had no local connections in Schwarhan, yet despite having arrived only recently, had quickly gained recognition for his talent.
Cabelenus had little interest in art to begin with, and had only hired a painter based on his aide’s recommendations — he had never actually met James.
He had only briefly assumed, upon hearing the almost obsolete old-fashioned name, that the person was likely older.
But when Cabelenus actually met James, he was much younger than expected. And above all, he was a beautiful man.
Realising this belatedly, Cabelenus’s eyes narrowed.
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