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Chapter 25
Rose, who had chased after Haren, came back fuming.
“What did you talk about with Sir Haren?”
“We didn’t talk about anything in particular.”
The fact that Sebastian would be going to trial was good news for me. Feeling relieved that I could proceed with what came next without worry, I took a light step forward—only for Rose to grab my arm tightly.
“Are you ignoring me right now?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Rose’s shrill voice shot up endlessly.
“You’re saying you’re ignoring me? Are you ignoring me because I’m not Father’s real daughter?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you remember what Mother said? Even if I don’t share Father’s blood, I’m still Father’s daughter. Rose Leon.”
Rose was so angry that a vein was bulging on her forehead.
Judging by how suddenly she started going on about bloodlines and strongly insisting that she was Rose Leon, she seemed to have a serious inferiority complex. She appeared to believe that the reason she was being ignored was because she wasn’t Count Leon’s real daughter.
“So?”
“So you shouldn’t be ignoring me. I’m your older sister.”
“I ignored you because you asked about something you didn’t need to know. Not because you’re not Father’s daughter.”
“What did you say? If you’d treated me like an older sister, you wouldn’t act like this.”
“You’ve never treated me like a younger sister either.”
“……”
There was no reply.
Looking at what you’ve done, you don’t have the right to say that.
What kind of older sister would treat her younger sister the way she did?
“Then will you let go now?”
When I brushed her hand away, it dropped limply.
“If you keep acting so selfishly, no one will like you. Just look—why do you think Father remarried? You must have been so awful that he needed a different family. Not you.”
Wasn’t she tired of this? Why did every conversation end with, No one will love you?
I was sick of the gaslighting that had started up again. It might have mattered to Espin whether others liked her or not, but to me, it meant nothing at all.
There wasn’t a single person in the world I could truly trust, so what did their love matter anyway?
I didn’t need that kind of love.
“You’d better introduce Sir Haren and me while I’m still being nice. Otherwise, I’ll tell Father everything about who you really are.”
“Mm. Sure. Good luck.”
Knowing full well that she could never tell Father, I walked past her toward my room. Behind me, I could hear Rose shouting in anger.
“My lady?”
When I arrived at the mansion—formerly the Melchaski residence and now being used as the current viscount’s place of business—with the Duchess of Ameron’s invitation in hand, the viscount approached with a friendly smile.
“I’ve already heard from the Duchess of Ameron. Please, come in.”
Inside the mansion, decorated like a salon, several noblewomen were already gathered, filling the space with lively chatter.
“Haha, even though this is a private auction, so many people have come.”
The viscount pointed proudly at the noblewomen seated around. Their eyes were shining with desire at the prospect of owning artworks that were not easily obtainable.
And among them, off in the distance, was Robert with his silver hair.
“Please, have a seat here. The auction for the painting will begin shortly.”
Once I sat where the viscount guided me, he soon brought out a painting covered with cloth.
“We are releasing Melchaski’s paintings one by one as we organize them, but we ask for your understanding that this takes time.”
The viscount bowed politely, a smile never leaving his face. Even as he spoke, his eyes were busy scanning the room, judging who might pay the most.
“To be honest, it’s uncertain whether there will be more of Melchaski’s works in the future or not, so we can’t be sure about what lies ahead.”
At the suggestion that this might be the last one, people leaned forward in their seats.
According to the book, more than ten noble houses had already been victimized by this viscount. He would be holding at least eight more auctions, yet he spoke like this to squeeze even more money out of people.
By implying that this might be their only chance to acquire such a piece, he was deliberately stoking their competitive instincts.
“The painting I’m introducing today appears to be the final work Melchaski left behind after his death. It is unfinished, but as the last piece he left before dying, it holds immense value.”
The cloth covering the painting was removed, revealing an unfinished canvas.
A red form, set against a black background that was only partially painted.
The painting was more underwhelming than expected, and a low murmur spread through the crowd.
Despite the atmosphere, the viscount never lost his smile and continued his explanation.
“This painting depicts Melchaski’s fear and dread of death as it approached, as well as the resolve with which he faced it. The large black wave you see represents the coming of death, and the red figure standing in the middle shows Melchaski’s stance as he confronts it.”
As expected, interpretation mattered more than the dream itself.
With his eloquent explanation, disappointment on people’s faces turned into admiration.
“Oh, marvelous.”
“As expected of Melchaski. It’s an excellent painting.”
“You can clearly feel the emotions of a genius facing death.”
“This will become a masterpiece.”
In an instant, public opinion shifted.
“Then we will begin the auction.”
Robert’s gaze turned toward me. When he silently asked whether I would participate, I shook my head.
I had no intention of bidding today. I only needed to observe how the auction worked.
“We’ll start at 1,000 ritas.”
At the viscount’s words, people quickly raised the paddles in front of them.
“1,000.”
“2,000.”
“3,000.”
Without pause, the numbers climbed, soon surpassing 100,000.
“100,000. From here on, we’ll call bids in increments of ten thousand.”
“180,000. 190,000. 200,000.”
As the price rapidly rose to the amount the Duchess of Ameron had paid, the viscount could barely hide his glee. Though the number of people still holding up paddles dwindled, the bidding war showed no sign of ending.
“240,000. Is there no higher bid?”
At that moment, one more person raised their hand.
“250,000.”
The viscount scanned the room. By now, almost everyone had lowered their paddles.
He glanced toward those still hesitating, urging them with his eyes, but faced with such a high sum, they averted their gazes.
“Then, sold for 250,000.”
The viscount’s voice rang out.
Even though it was an exorbitant price, the winning bidder walked off excitedly to inspect the painting that was now hers, while those who failed to win returned with regret.
“You’ve made an excellent choice, madam.”
“Don’t you think so? It was a bit burdensome, since it was such a high price.”
“Not at all. Once all of Melchaski’s paintings come out, their value will increase tenfold. By then, you won’t be able to get one no matter how much you want to.”
“Really?”
“Yes, madam. Do you know how much the imperial family paid for a Melchaski painting fifty years ago? Five hundred thousand ritas.”
“Five hundred thousand ritas back then would be…”
“More than a million ritas in today’s value.”
The lady who had won the bid looked dazzled, her eyes shining.
As I observed them, someone passed by my side and lightly tapped my shoulder.
“The painting is quite good.”
After tapping my shoulder and approaching them, Robert cast a subtle glance back at me.
“Oh, Count Kidne. You’re interested in paintings as well, I see.”
“Haha, of course. But to think you were looking for this painting—your luck is remarkable.”
“Indeed. Who would have thought that a house I bought by chance would contain so many of Melchaski’s paintings?”
At the viscount’s words, both Robert and I tilted our heads slightly in puzzlement.
