AOL 50

Chapter 50

Fortunately, the back door of the atelier that connected to the narrow alleyway was unlocked.

When Iselle grabbed the handle and turned it open, the rusted metal let out a small screech from age.

The atelier was long and narrow in shape, with the shop, workshop, and storage room lined up in a row.

Tiny specks of dust floated lazily through the storage room, where canvases and stone sculptures were stacked neatly along the walls.

The moment she stepped past the partition separating the storage room from the workshop, Iselle spotted Ceres’s back.

“Master!”

Ceres, who had been painting on a canvas set upon an oak easel, jumped in shock and hurriedly stood up.

“Iselle?!”

Her master’s startled expression was exactly the same as before.

The anxiety that had frozen Iselle’s heart solid instantly melted away. Unable to hold herself back, she ran toward Ceres and threw her arms around her.

Of course, since Ceres was much taller than Iselle, from the outside it looked more as though Iselle was the one being embraced.

“Are you alright? You’re not hurt anywhere, are you?”

When Iselle looked up to ask, her eyes were already damp with tears.

Still holding a paintbrush smeared with paint in one hand, Ceres awkwardly hesitated, unable to properly return the hug.

“Of course I’m fine. What kind of situation would ever get me hurt?”

Ceres spoke that way because she didn’t know Iselle had seen the papal decree.

Seeing the moisture in Iselle’s eyes while telling a lie pricked painfully at her conscience.

Just as Iselle was about to say something else, someone’s hand pulled her away from Ceres.

It was Rahan.

As though brushing away something filthy, he shoved Ceres aside with his shoulder and guided Iselle into a wooden chair.

“You must be tired after walking around so much. Please sit down first, Iselle.”

Ceres, who had her embrace stolen away in the blink of an eye, furrowed her brows.

Rahan smiled warmly at Iselle, yet the back he showed Ceres radiated an icy chill.

Ceres clicked her tongue inwardly.

Rahan even placed a cushion on Iselle’s lap so she could rest comfortably.

Then he turned back, resting a hand on Ceres’s shoulder as he spoke in a low voice.

“I need to go deal with some knight order business for a moment, so take care of Iselle.”

“Alright.”

Ceres nodded easily enough, but Rahan still looked dissatisfied.

His gaze flicked briefly aside.

Iselle was too busy admiring the painting Ceres had been working on with sparkling eyes. After confirming that, Rahan whispered to Ceres,

“How long are you planning to continue this cross-dressing act?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Shouldn’t you stop by now?”

The pressure of his hand tightening on her shoulder was unmistakably threatening.

Only then did Ceres realize why Rahan had been in such a foul mood. Iselle firmly believed Ceres was a woman.

Because of that, she had no hesitation in holding Ceres’s hand or hugging her first.

Naturally, for Rahan, who treasured Iselle dearly, the sight must have been unbearable.

A mixture of injustice and disbelief surged through Ceres, and she let out a scoffing laugh.

“Why should I? If it annoys you so much, why don’t you start cross-dressing too?”

A chilling glare shot toward her immediately, and Ceres averted her eyes.

After glaring at her for a moment longer, Rahan approached Iselle once more.

“I’ll be back shortly, Iselle.”

As he spoke, Rahan gently stroked Iselle’s hair. Her cheeks flushed peach-red, and she slowly nodded.

Even after saying goodbye, he kept staring at her as though unwilling to part before finally turning around and leaving the atelier.

Once Ceres confirmed the door had closed firmly behind him, she returned to the workshop. Iselle sat there absently touching the spot Rahan had patted on her head, lost in thought.

Though only a few days had passed, the two already seemed far closer than before.

Watching Iselle with mixed emotions, Ceres finally spoke.

“Iselle, why did you act like that earlier?”

Iselle hesitated and shifted her eyes nervously.

“I… saw the decree.”

Ceres let out a quiet sigh of understanding.

She had assumed Iselle wouldn’t have seen it yet since she rarely went outside, but apparently that wasn’t the case.

“Iselle. You don’t need to worry so much.”

“Huh?”

“Sure, I’m being watched by both the Holy See and the Imperial Palace, but they haven’t harmed me.”

Ceres was the only lead they had regarding the sculptor L.

The holy knights and imperial knights came by repeatedly to pester her, but no one had directly threatened her or dragged her off to an interrogation chamber.

“As for what I’ll do from now on… I’ll have to wait and see.”

Ceres didn’t want Iselle to give up sculpting.

To tell her to quit over something like this would be such a waste of Iselle’s extraordinary talent.

Both as someone working in the arts and as the master who had watched Iselle for years, it was painful to imagine.

“I’m sorry, Master. This is all because of me…”

“There you go again, saying ridiculous things. If anything, I should be thanking you since your work brought in more customers.”

Trying to comfort the gloom settling over Iselle’s face, Ceres hurriedly changed the subject.

“More importantly, we got some new sculpting knives in recently. Why don’t you come take a look?”

She placed her hands on Iselle’s shoulders and guided her toward the front shop.

Just then, the bell attached to the wooden door rang brightly, announcing a customer’s arrival.

Startled, Iselle immediately crouched down.

The thought that it might be holy knights made her instinctively hide behind the counter.

The counter was tall enough to conceal her completely, though if someone came close enough to look, she would inevitably be discovered.

Kneeling on the floor, Iselle held her breath and pressed herself as close to the counter as possible.

“Are you looking for something in particular?”

Judging from Ceres’s response, fortunately the newcomer didn’t seem to be a holy knight but an ordinary customer.

Iselle let out a relieved sigh.

Still, she figured it would be best to stay hidden for a little while longer so as not to startle the customer by suddenly appearing.

Then the visitor spoke.

“Do you also deal in sculpture pieces?”

The voice belonged to a man with a refreshing tone that reminded her of summer.

“…At the moment, due to circumstances, we are not handling sculptures.”

“And those circumstances happen to be related to the Pope’s decree posted in the square?”

Ceres frowned.

“What kind of answer are you looking for?”

Her voice instantly sharpened.

Obviously, the man was probing her. She was sick to death of people coming to the atelier trying to dig up information about Sculptor L this way.

Ever since the decree had been posted, countless people had begun chasing after any trace of Sculptor L in hopes of claiming the reward money.

Ceres carefully observed the hooded man.

He was slightly taller and broader than her, and the robe wrapped around him looked extremely expensive.

Judging by his manner of speaking and appearance, he seemed like a noble concealing his identity.

Perhaps sensing her suspicious gaze, the silent man finally pulled back his hood.

The moment Ceres saw the face hidden beneath, she nearly screamed.

At least inwardly.

The man calmly met the stunned Ceres’s gaze and smiled pleasantly.

“I heard you were keeping some of Sculptor L’s works here. I wanted to see them at least once.”

“……”

Ceres poured every ounce of strength into suppressing the shock coursing through her body.

Trying desperately to sound natural, she forced out her reply.

“Th…that won’t be possible.”

She had almost blurted out, “Yes, Your Highness.”

Ceres swallowed dryly.

He wasn’t some noble hiding his identity.

He was royalty who practically announced it openly.

The man leaning casually against the counter with a bright smile was none other than the Crown Prince of the Empire.

The last time Ceres had seen the Crown Prince was five years ago.

Compared to then, his skin was slightly more tanned, and the round youthful eyes had grown sharper with maturity.

But there was no mistaking the face beneath it all.

She had heard he’d gone abroad to the Rosca Empire three years ago for study.

So when exactly had he returned to the capital?

And more importantly… why now, of all times?

The thought of Iselle hiding silently at his feet and her own appearance made Ceres’s mind go completely blank.

Whether or not he noticed her pale expression, the Crown Prince continued casually.

“Do you truly believe that sculptor is a fraud?”

“What does my opinion matter?”

For a moment, the Crown Prince quietly studied Ceres’s eyes.

Then, suddenly leaning slightly closer, he asked,

“Haven’t we met before?”

His deeper voice, matured past adolescence, brushed against Ceres’s ears.

As he leaned closer, she instinctively pulled away and answered stiffly,

“I don’t think so.”

“That’s strange. You seem very familiar somehow.”

If the Crown Prince recognized her, it would be an absolute disaster.

Ignoring the sweat gathering along her back, Ceres forced out an awkward laugh.

“Haha. I hear that a lot. I just have a very common face…”

“Is that so?”

One of the Crown Prince’s brows lifted slightly, an unreadable expression crossing his face before he smiled meaningfully.

“Well, I suppose the person I know wouldn’t be in a place like this. And above all, that person is a man.”

“……”

Ceres’s eyes trembled for an instant.

The pale blue eyes observing her gleamed strangely.

“I doubt he’d go so far as to cross-dress and stay in a place like this.”

Ceres cursed inwardly.

The Crown Prince had definitely recognized her.

Whether he intended to pretend otherwise or flaunt the advantage he held, he merely wore a carefree smile.

Even in the past, His Highness had always been frighteningly perceptive.

He appeared indecisive, as though he smiled everything away, but beneath that exterior coiled a cunningness equal to the Emperor’s.

Would hiding one’s identity before royalty count as insulting the imperial family?

Or would there be leniency since both of them were concealing themselves?

Her thoughts spun wildly.

At that exact moment, the wooden door burst open noisily.

The ones who entered were holy knights clad in silver armor and white capes.

Dressed far more extravagantly than usual, the two knights strode boldly into the atelier.

Ceres had assumed they would be too busy guarding the Pope and priests today to station anyone here.

Apparently, she had been wrong.

Faced with the rapidly spiraling situation, Ceres felt like cursing Asilhis, the god of fate.

“Shopkeeper.”

The holy knights, faces stiff and stern, alternated their gaze between Ceres and the blond man.

Clear suspicion shone in their eyes.

One of the knights questioned Ceres.

“Who is this man?”

Ceres stared at the knight as though asking if that was seriously a question.

But judging from their expressions, they weren’t joking.

Perhaps they had only recently become holy knights and didn’t recognize the Crown Prince’s face.

After a slight cough, Ceres answered awkwardly,

“……A customer.”

Because of her hesitation, the knight’s suspicion deepened further.

Turning to the man radiating an unusual presence, he demanded,

“If you are an imperial citizen, show us your identification.”

Sion tilted his head slightly.

“I don’t have an identity tag, but I do have my Erenium Academy student ID. Would that suffice?”

Momentarily flustered, the knight exchanged glances with his companion before nodding.

Sion pulled out a gold-trimmed student card from his robe and handed it over.

While the knights carefully examined the card, Sion leaned lazily against the corner of the counter, looking bored.

Then, from below, a faint rustling sound reached his ears.

Without thinking much of it, he glanced beyond the counter.

“……!”

“……!”

Their eyes met.