Microscopes and Canvases - Chapter 24

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 24
“Where are we headed, Beatrice?”
Patrick moved first.
He’d known they’d be working together, but running into her on the very first day like this—his voice lifted unbidden, colored with unexpected warmth.
“They said to go to Annex Room 101, didn’t they? The Director told me we’d be working in the same office.”
“Really?”
Patrick brightened visibly. He hadn’t expected they’d share a workspace outright. A settling ease came over him, and the two naturally fell into step side by side down the hallway.
“I wonder how many people will be working with us?”
Beatrice asked, her voice alight with curiosity.
“Hard to say. Since it’s the Annex, it might be quieter than the Main Building.”
“Still, I can’t be the only illustrator, can I? I’m curious what kinds of paintings the others will be creating….”
“I’m wondering the same thing. Who’s heading the research team? How many other colleagues will there be….”
“You don’t know either?”
“Not really. This is my first time at the Museum.”
The two of them, struck by the same questions, made their way down the long corridor in quiet conversation, crossing over into the Annex building.
But something felt wrong. No matter how far they walked, not a single shadow of another person crossed the hallway. The bustle that had filled the Main Building faded like a lie, until only their footsteps echoed down the corridor—click, click, click—in the growing silence.
“Why is it so quiet?”
“It’s like no one’s here at all.”
The few rooms glimpsed through half-open doors were all empty, or else crammed with junk and storage.
“…I guess the Annex is just always this quiet.”
Beatrice laughed, a touch of embarrassment crossing her face.
“Maybe they keep newcomers separate, get them to settle in quietly?”
“That could be it. Let us adjust in peace, so to speak.”
He spoke as if to reassure himself, but as time wore on, both of them grew quieter. By the time they reached the end of the corridor and the gleaming brass nameplate on Annex Room 101, they both stood silent, staring at it.
Beatrice asked carefully.
“There will be people inside, won’t there?”
“…Probably.”
Patrick answered quickly, wanting to comfort her, but in his gut he suspected the room would be empty.
They hadn’t seen a trace of another employee the entire way here.
Maybe they were just running late. Or perhaps this was a temporary office.
Patrick laid his hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath. New workplace, new people, fresh start. I can do this. Without realizing it, he steadied his breathing. Beside him, Beatrice too was watching the door, half-excited, half-nervous.
“…Well then. Let me open it.”
“Yes.”
Patrick pushed the door open in one motion. The heavy oak door, dark with age, creaked open slowly, and a wave of paint thinner rolled out to meet them.
“…Wow.”
The two of them stepped carefully into the laboratory.
The research room they encountered on their first day was nothing short of charming. The air held a faint, austere scent—old paper and dried specimens—cool and dry. It reminded Patrick of a library. He breathed it in gratefully, deeply.
Morning light poured through a grand arched window that opened up an entire wall, slanting across the room and flooding it with brightness. The white plaster walls bore the marks of fresh paint.
“I love this place already.”
Beatrice had drifted toward the large window, surveying the tall trees outside.
The mature trees were perfectly dense—enough to cast light into the room while completely blocking sightlines at human height. Anyone peering in from outside would find it nearly impossible to see within.
Patrick inspected the tall bookshelves crammed with reference materials, the glass cases for specimens, and the metal cabinets. He gave the wheeled chalkboard a tentative push, then smiled at the simple table set up for tea and the portable stove beside it.
“It’s far better than I expected.”
Patrick drew that conclusion. Aside from missing research equipment that hadn’t been brought in yet, the laboratory exceeded his hopes. More than that—it was impeccably perfect.
Now the only question was who his other colleagues would be.
As Patrick was examining the fine research room, he suddenly realized something that made him stop dead. Wait—how many people are actually supposed to work here?
Why are there so few desks?
Patrick glanced uncertainly across at Beatrice.
She’d already claimed the spot by the window, unfolding an easel beside a large oak table and laying out the watercolors she’d brought from home, one by one. She hadn’t even asked if it was all right to pick her place before the others arrived.
And no wonder—this research room contained exactly two desks. One near the window, another beside the bookshelves where Patrick now stood. Two identical twin desks, same size, same design, and not a single other seat in sight where another employee could possibly sit.
Patrick had never worked at a museum before, but this didn’t seem right. There was no room here for anyone else.
“…Beatrice. Did the Director mention anything else to you?”
“Hmm? Why?”
Beatrice turned with a questioning tilt of her head. She clearly hadn’t been told much either.
“This research room… I’m wondering if it’s just going to be the two of us. There aren’t any other desks.”
“There… aren’t?”
Beatrice’s eyes widened as she finally noticed the strangeness. She turned a slow circle around the laboratory, then gasped and looked back at Patrick.
“…I think that might be it!”
This was going to be a problem.
Patrick’s mind churned as he pressed his lips together. Sharing the research room with Beatrice was fine, but….
“I, um, Patrick.”
“Yes?”
Patrick turned his head. Beatrice stood motionless, her expression bewildered, and posed a question.
“So I’d be your exclusive illustrator, then? Something like that?”
“Well, if there’s just the two of us, then presumably so.”
“Then, what should I be drawing?”
“…I’m sorry?”
Patrick blinked. What did she mean she didn’t know what to draw?
“You’re saying you didn’t hear anything about it at all?”
“Well, no….”
Beatrice’s words trailed away without conviction. Hearing the uncertainty in her own voice, Patrick found himself momentarily at a loss.
How could he not know? In the ballroom corridor, she’d seemed absorbed in reading his research paper—he was certain of it.
Perplexed, Patrick tried his best to remain composed and make sense of the situation.
“Well then, at least the Director told you I’d be working with her, didn’t she?”
“Yes.”
“But you don’t know what research I do? That evening, when Lady Beatrice read my paper so intently, I assumed you’d grasped the contents….”
“Oh no, that wasn’t it at all….”
Beatrice’s face flushed crimson. Visibly embarrassed, she continued with careful words.
“I didn’t really understand such things. I was just staring at it because it seemed impressive.”
Faced with her awkward smile, Patrick felt his energy drain away entirely.
‘Truly remarkable!’
Watching her beam and turn the pages, he had truly believed at last that someone appreciated the value of his work.
‘Do you have some expertise in plants?’
‘Of course! I love them!’
She’d said she loved plants, not that she understood them. But he’d gotten so caught up in the thought of meeting Mr. Greenleaf that he’d rushed ahead on his own. It was all his misunderstanding, all of it….
Yes. It wasn’t Beatrice’s fault. If there was fault to assign, it lay with him—so caught up in excitement that he’d jumped to conclusions and fallen into delusion.
Still, there was no need to despair yet. Patrick steadied himself and smiled toward Beatrice.
“In any case, with your experience in Botanical Illustration, you’ll adapt quickly.”
But the moment Patrick mentioned her experience in Botanical Illustration, the shadow deepening in Beatrice’s expression only grew darker.
She asked with extreme caution.
“Do you need special experience to draw plants?”

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————