🔊 TTS Settings
chapter 69
Serret smiled and turned her head toward the sound of Regan’s voice.
Regan was running toward Serret from the right-hand lakeside garden. He reached her in a single bound, panting heavily.
“Today seems to be my lucky day,” he thought. Having met all the duchesses at the palace, he now had the chance to see Serret. His eyes sparkled as he gave her a bright smile.
“Your Highness.”
Serret’s eyes softened at Regan’s face, shining like the summer sun.
“How have you been? No, how’s your body? Are you alright?”
The bright smile on Regan’s face quickly shifted to one of concern.
He had wanted to visit the Duke’s residence upon hearing about Serret’s attack, but worried he might be overreacting. He had hesitated for days, yet fate had brought him to her by chance. Regan was thankful for the coincidence.
“I’m fine.”
Serret replied, a little embarrassed.
News of the attack on the Duchess of Frecthuster had spread rapidly, and now almost everyone knew. Serret felt slightly awkward as almost every passerby asked if she was alright.
“That’s a relief.”
“Thank you for worrying about me.”
Serret gave a sheepish smile.
“Don’t ever go to such dangerous places again. If you must go, take me with you.”
“You’d go with me, Your Highness?”
Serret smiled at Regan.
“Of course! I’ll go wherever it is.”
“Even somewhere swarming with giant praying mantises?”
Serret teased him playfully.
“Ugh.”
Regan grimaced. Praying mantises were his greatest fear. Even thinking about them sent shivers down his spine, making it hard to promise to go along.
Seeing Regan stiffen, Serret laughed. Catching on to her teasing, Regan couldn’t help but laugh along.
“How did you know I was afraid of mantises? Did Yuan tell you?”
“Yes, something like that.”
Serret nodded at Regan’s question.
In truth, she had heard it directly from him in a past life. She remembered laughing for a long time when Regan suddenly confessed that mantises scared him more than anything.
“How embarrassing. I suppose I’m the only man who’s scared of mantises?”
“Everyone has their fears.”
“I’ve decided. Even if a giant mantis appears, I will stay with you, Duchess.”
Regan answered with a serious expression, having made a momentous decision.
It was time to overcome his fear of mantises, he thought, clenching his fist.
“What if I were a mantis?”
Serret imitated a mantis’s forelegs with her arms, teasing him. She did it so well that Regan flinched and stepped back.
Amused by his retreat, Serret moved closer, continuing her mantis imitation—but she twisted her ankle and stumbled. Regan quickly caught her arm.
“Are you alright?”
Regan looked at her in shock, suddenly realizing his hand was holding Serret’s bare arm and quickly let go. Her sleeveless dress left his palm in contact with her skin.
“I’m fine.”
“Yes.”
Regan avoided her gaze. Feeling heat where his hand had touched her skin, he repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fists.
Meanwhile, Serret pointed at something with her finger.
“Your Highness.”
Following her finger, Regan turned his head and instinctively grabbed Serret’s hand. She had been pointing at a mantis in the corridor, raising its forelegs and moving its head side to side.
A chill ran down Regan’s spine. He nearly screamed—but managed to hold back, saving his pride.
“What do we do? I hate mantises too.”
Serret was also not fond of mantises and lacked the courage to cross that path.
Regan took a deep breath and replied seriously:
“Then let’s run.”
He jumped over the corridor railing in an instant, grabbing Serret’s hand and running in the opposite direction of the mantis.
Serret laughed at their mad dash, and Regan laughed along with her.
“I found a dessert shop with amazing treats. I’ll bring some soon.”
Even while running, Regan spoke with excitement. His current hobby was discovering new dessert shops, and bringing Serret delicious desserts gave him immense joy.
“Thank you. But how long do we have to keep running?”
“Until the mantis stops chasing us.”
Serret’s laughter rang sweetly at his words. Regan held her hand tightly. The memory of fleeing from a mantis would become a happy summer memory that stayed deep in his heart.
Today was the last day of the salon exhibition. It was the day Serret would receive the painting she had purchased and also the day the true identity of the rookie painter, Gentleman—who had received harsh criticism—would be revealed.
Throughout the exhibition, Gentleman remained the center of attention.
Quentin Dahl’s article harshly criticized the self-portrait as a foolish piece, and critics and nobles eagerly joined in ridiculing it.
Newspaper columns disparaging Gentleman’s self-portrait appeared daily. One critic even claimed that only lewd women could like the painting, angering many female readers.
Thanks to Gentleman’s self-portrait, this salon exhibition became one of the most successful in recent history.
After finishing her preparations, Serret descended the stairs and spotted Yuan in the lobby.
Yuan noticed her presence and turned to her.
“You were home?”
Serret approached Yuan as she descended the stairs.
“I heard you were going to the salon.”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll accompany you.”
“You’re going to the salon?”
“This time, they said I shouldn’t let my wife go alone.”
Yuan’s expression was so serious it was hard to tell if he was joking. His words reflected a common joke among men recently, yet his expression was overly grave. Such was the Duke of Frecthuster. Serret chuckled.
“Because of the self-portrait?”
“Have you seen it?”
“Yes.”
“Seen it? Or… also bought it?” Serret smiled faintly.
“Seen it,” Yuan said with a displeased expression.
“You don’t have to follow me if you’ve already seen it,” he added.
Serret passed him and moved toward the door. Yuan followed, placing her hand on his arm.
“Are you going to see the painting?”
“No. I’m going to pick up the one I bought.”
Serret held Yuan’s arm while descending the stairs.
“You bought a painting?”
“Yes. I found one I liked very much.”
“You should’ve said if you wanted it.”
Outside, in front of the waiting carriage, Yuan looked at her.
“You’d probably have opposed it.”
“I respect my wife’s taste.”
“Good to know.”
Serret got into the carriage and smiled at Yuan sitting opposite her. She wondered what expression he would make when she collected the painting.
Soon, the carriage stopped in front of the exhibition hall, which was more crowded than the first day. Many women were present, likely coming to see the self-portrait last.
“What painting did you buy?”
Yuan asked as they entered.
“Curious?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Soon you’ll see.”
Serret walked ahead, heading straight for the self-portrait. People gathered around the controversial piece, which was clearly a magnet for attention.
She stopped and gazed at it.
“Is that the painting?”
Yuan squinted slightly, displeased.
“Yes, isn’t it beautiful?”
To Serret, it was exquisite—a painting that could multiply her investment many times over.
At that moment, Yuan stepped in front of her, blocking the view.
“Let’s go see the painting your wife bought.”
Yuan’s tone was displeased.
Serret rolled her eyes but then heard a familiar voice:
“Yuan! Duchess of Frecthuster!”
It was Regan, calling out cheerfully as he approached.
“Your Highness,” Serret greeted him brightly. It was their first meeting since escaping the mantis together.
Regan’s warm gaze touched Serret before shifting to Yuan, whose face was stiff.
“Why are you at the salon?” Regan asked, glancing at Yuan in puzzlement.
“I came with Serret,” Yuan replied, still displeased.
“Here to supervise?”
Regan pointed at the painting and looked at Serret. She chuckled at his action.
“It seems the salon will accept any painting, Your Highness.”
“Does it really look like just any painting?”
“Yes.”
Yuan answered firmly, almost coldly. Regan, disappointed, asked Serret:
“Do you think so too, Duchess of Frecthuster?”
“Of course not.”
“Right?”
Regan smiled brightly at her answer. The fresh excitement between them made Yuan’s lips curl disdainfully. He disliked the youthful spring-like energy surrounding the two.
“Serret, let’s go.”
Yuan grabbed her hand.
“I want to stay here.”
“It’s my painting,” Serret said, freeing her hand.
“Yes, Yuan. Something interesting is about to happen—let’s stay a bit longer.”
Regan addressed Yuan but his gaze followed Quentin Dahl approaching the painting.
Serret and Yuan’s eyes moved to follow him.
Seeing Quentin Dahl, Serret smiled. A moment of undeniable fun was about to unfold.
Pushing through the crowd, Quentin Dahl reached the painting, placed his hand on his chest, and greeted everyone politely.
A journalist in the crowd asked:
“In your article, you called Gentleman’s self-portrait a foolish piece. Do you still hold that opinion?”
All eyes turned to Quentin Dahl.
He laughed openly, putting his hands in his pockets, and addressed the crowd:
“Let this be my answer.”
He pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket.
