TLWRO 47

Episode 47

The Lady Only Deals in the Real Thing

Unlike Some People

[…Nicholas Raum, once obscure, returns in a dazzling comeback and debut…]

[…“I respect my husband’s artistic work. Beyond that, I have nothing to say,” declares Viscountess Rosanne’s official stance…]

“Of course Rosanne would have no choice but to say that.”

I snapped the newspaper shut and smiled faintly.

“Because she can’t get in touch with the viscount. She has her image as a woman who ‘respects art’ to maintain. If she says something that contradicts that, it’ll be the end of her. So she’s stuck, hesitating, fretting. And besides—”

[…The Duke of Alchemia promises full sponsorship of the viscount…]

“Now that the Duke of Alchemia has become a strong patron for him, Rosanne can’t lay a hand on the viscount carelessly.”

We were in the duke’s private café within his domain—an area where outsiders couldn’t enter.

Nicholas, sipping tea across from me, shyly nodded his head. His cheeks were flushed red.

Maybe it was the thrill of being out for the first time in ages, maybe it was the joy of finally being recognized, or maybe he just felt dazed by it all.

“I never imagined that His Grace, the Duke of Alchemia, would take an interest in my paintings…”

“I told you, didn’t I? Everyone will love your paintings. The duke is no exception.”

In my previous life, Nicholas’s works, revealed posthumously, had taken the world by storm. Everyone had scrambled to own one. And the most passionate among them, the one who mourned his death the deepest, had been—

—the Duke of Alchemia.

Remembering that, I had sent photographs of his paintings to the duke through William’s information guild.

Taste and discernment don’t change so easily.

And I had been exactly right.

The Duke had summoned Nicholas to his estate immediately.

“Did you also tell him that you already had an investor, Viscount?”

“Yes, though I didn’t reveal exactly who it was.”

Nicholas was keeping the secret faithfully.

“But the duke said it didn’t matter. Investment is investment, sponsorship is sponsorship. He only asked for one thing—that he be given the first chance to see the completed paintings. So I agreed.”

“As expected. His Grace truly understands what it means to love art. Unlike some people.”

Nicholas slowly nodded. He seemed to be chewing over just how unreasonable Rosanne’s treatment of him had been.

“I… I still haven’t received a reply to the divorce papers I left behind…”

“Yes, that’s to be expected. Rosanne will try to bring you back.”

Because she loves him?

No. Rosanne would soon realize it—

That there was no other painter as talented as Nicholas, who could also be manipulated so easily.

“But that won’t last. Rosanne will have no choice but to divorce you with her own hands.”

I sipped my tea, recalling what I knew about Rosanne and my plan.

Hearing me speak with such certainty, Nicholas agreed as if spellbound.

Well, if he loses his title in the divorce, he’ll also lose his qualifications as guarantor… but that’s no big deal.

Rosanne had orchestrated this whole guarantor scheme just to target my grandfather.

But the policy was useless anyway. And after the “Gray District” incident proved the guarantor system meaningless, it would be abolished soon enough.

Even if she tried to force the issue, I had plenty of countermeasures.

Still, she won’t be able to say much.

I smirked, recalling something William had told me.

“So, for now, you may as well make use of your status as a viscount. You’ve held that authority without ever getting to use it, after all.”

“Like how?”

“Well… say, a VIP tour of the art museum?”

“Wow…”

Since the Duke of Alchemia would provide him with guards, I could say such a thing.

Nicholas, his face reddening again at the dreamlike thought, was still glowing when I handed him a bag.

“Here. The auction proceeds from Life.”

“What? B-but… that painting was my gift to you, Lady Elisha. The sale proceeds should go to you and Duke Michele to use…”

“It’s fine. I only brought back your share, minus the ten percent investment fee.”

By contract, I received ten percent of the price whenever one of Nicholas’s paintings was sold.

But Nicholas pushed the bag back toward me.

Then, in a shy but firm voice, he said,

“Alright, I’ll take it. But this time, I want to give it back—as a… as a gift!”

“A gift?”

“Yes. Think of it as an allowance from an older relative to you, Lady Elisha, and a token of gratitude.”

Nicholas lowered his eyes and spoke softly.

“It’s been weighing on me. I’m sure Duke Michele has taken good care of you… but even so, it must not have been easy, right?”

Nicholas didn’t know much about the affairs of the ducal household. He’d been holed up in his atelier painting, excluded from important family discussions.

I hadn’t helped him expecting to get inside information anyway.

But… he must have overheard Rosanne and Hugo badmouthing Grandfather. Is that what he’s referring to?

But what came next wasn’t quite what I expected.

“Living with only your grandfather… without your parents. Forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn, but since I’m an orphan too… I know a little of what it feels like. Sometimes it’s lonely. Sometimes it hurts.”

Ah.

There are truths you only fully realize when someone else puts them into words.

That’s right. I don’t have parents. …Maybe I deliberately avoided thinking about it, because dwelling on it was too painful.

A pang struck my heart.

“So please, use this to buy yourself something delicious! I-it may be nothing compared to Duke Michele’s fortune…”

It was far too much money just to spend on food. But more than the money, I was grateful for his heart.

To the awkwardly embarrassed Nicholas, I said sincerely,

“No. …Thank you. Truly. That’s the first time anyone has ever said that to me.”

“R-really?”

“Yes. Then I’ll use this to buy something delicious to eat with Grandfather.”

“You can use it to buy clothes or shoes too!”

“Haha, yes. I will.”

Nicholas smiled brightly and quietly pulled out a notebook.

“And this is what you asked for last time.”

“Ah, Rosanne’s client list?”

Nicholas might not have known much about the ducal household, but he knew Rosanne’s business better than anyone.

Flipping through the notebook, I stopped at one entry.

As I thought. Crodil was one of Rosanne’s clients.

That confirmed it—the permit incident had been Rosanne’s scheme.

“Oh, by the way, did that permit business get resolved?”

“Yes, thanks to your help. All the guild members are grateful.”

“Your help? All I did was sign.”

I had applied for Nicholas Raum to be the guarantor not only for myself but for all the other guild members as well.

Thanks to that, not a single one of them had been shut down.

“Strange that your… former wife gave in so easily.”

“It wasn’t easy. From what I heard, someone argued that since you weren’t a hereditary noble, Viscount, you didn’t qualify under the requirement of ‘honor.’ Likely Rosanne’s doing.”

“What? Then…”

“But it was approved in the end.”

Hey, it’s William. About that permit matter—apparently a few nobles protested really hard. But do you know who made sure the final approval went through?

“Someone really unexpected stepped in to help.”

Princess Katarina! Can you believe it? Even I couldn’t when I heard it!

Ailen was in his office.

He looked down at the objects on his desk.

A quill, paper, a paperweight, and—

The hourglass.

It had been a gift he’d received several months ago.

Around the same time his headaches had begun.

And yet, Ailen couldn’t bring himself to discard it.

Because—

“The Emperor sends this gift, asking you to take good care of the palace in his absence.”

It had been bestowed by the Emperor himself, who had left on pilgrimage.

Late at night, a servant with green eyes had brought him a box sealed with the imperial crest.

Accepting it reverently, he had opened the box to find a black hourglass inside.

He’d assumed it meant that he should manage his time diligently, and so he’d always kept it on his desk.

But if this hourglass is the cause of my headaches, then His Majesty… No. No, I must not think such blasphemy.

What troubled his mind even more was this—

Ever since he’d spent less time in the office while out on inspections, his headaches had eased.

Or rather, to be exact—

Ever since I stopped by that pawnshop.

At the moment he’d come into contact with the pawnbroker, the pain had been unbearable, worse than ever before. He’d barely been able to breathe.

But then, the symptoms had subsided. And afterwards—

It was like disinfecting a wound. Agonizing at first… but gradually, my head felt clearer. Why?