My Husband Lives in a Painting - Chapter 11

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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My Husband Lives in a Painting 011
‘Damn it.’
The moment Pagoda stepped forward to block my path, chin raised, I bit my lip.
“I’ve been quite worried, personally. A woman as delicate as yourself—I couldn’t help but wonder how you’d bear such heartbreak.”
“Ah… yes.”
By then, Gail’s shadow had already vanished.
But oblivious to my distress, Pagoda pressed on regardless.
“Madam. Though it’s early yet, if you ever need a shoulder to lean on, do write to me anytime.”
As a widow facing Pagoda now, he conducted himself far more openly than before.
“They say people forget people through people, don’t they? Though I’m merely a marquis, I do possess a respectable estate… you understand? Sometimes a bit of forbidden fruit is far more enticing and stimulating than the everyday sort.”
“Yes. We can talk more another time—”
Garbage, all of it.
Just as I was about to slip away with a vague trailing off, a hand suddenly hooked my arm and trapped me in place.
When I glanced down, his large hand filled my entire view.
“…!”
In that instant, a chill raced down my spine and my body went rigid.
“Madam. I haven’t finished what I was saying.”
His voice had grown heavier, weighted with a subtle pressure that made cold sweat break across my skin.
“After the auction ends, how about a cup of tea? I know a rather famous cafe.”
“I… no.”
“You’ll have plenty of time anyway, won’t you?”
“Please, let go of—”
Thump-thump-thump.
No. Leave while I’m being nice. Should I call security?
Three words would settle it, yet my lips wouldn’t move—as if they’d been sealed shut. Separate from the rational part of me that knew he wouldn’t harm me in a public place.
‘Stupid again…!’
Just as I squeezed my eyes shut, I heard a familiar voice from somewhere.
“Excuse me.”
When I looked up, Claude was standing right beside me with his arms folded, staring blankly at me.
“What are you doing?”
At the sudden intrusion of this uninvited guest, Pagoda’s eyes narrowed.
“Who are you?”
“I asked what you were doing.”
Claude’s gaze remained fixed persistently on me.
Unable to hide my confusion, I blinked—and finally my lips came unstuck.
“Claude, why are you here…?”
“I came as the family representative. Someone was pestering me about it.”
Apparently sent by Belladonna’s orders, Claude looked distinctly eager to be anywhere but here.
“So what’s this anyway? You know him?”
Claude’s indifferent gaze slid dismissively toward Pagoda.
The stark height difference created a composition that seemed to look down upon him from above.
Perhaps feeling the humiliation of being an insect beneath someone’s foot, Pagoda’s lip twitched and his displeasure became apparent.
“Wait a minute, now that I think about it, you’re…”
“Sir, quiet. I’m talking right now. Hush.”
“What? You butted in first and now you—!”
As Pagoda flushed with indignation behind him, Claude flicked his ear dismissively as if bored.
It seemed he wouldn’t back down until I answered, so I finally found my voice.
“Well, you see, the thing is…”
“I can’t hear you well.”
“I do know him, but…”
“What, should I go then?”
No, don’t go! I should have said, but my mind had gone blank and I couldn’t think of what to say next.
As if unable to bear the frustration, Claude’s expression twisted and he turned to leave.
No, this won’t do!
My fingertips were slicing through empty air.
“Sir… you’re really being a pain about this.”
Claude, who’d been walking away indifferently, suddenly stopped in his tracks.
Then he spun around abruptly and strode back, seizing Pagoda’s arm.
“Wh-what?”
And to the man now blinking in bewilderment, he issued a stern warning.
“Put that hand away while I’m being nice. Otherwise, I’ll break it for you.”
* * *
The moment eyes in the crowd began turning toward us, Pagoda cut his losses and bolted.
“You’ll regret this. I’m filing a formal petition with the Nobles’ Council!”
—spouting some third-rate villain drivel as he went.
Meanwhile, I’d stumbled into receiving help, and I turned tentatively to thank Claude,
“Hey, thanks for—”
“What’s so difficult about saying you hate something when you hate it?”
He left those words hanging in the air and walked away without so much as a backward glance.
Left adrift like a duckling on the Nakdong, I could only stare at his retreating figure.
“……Sigh.”
And thirty minutes later, here I was.
I leaned back in my chair and sank into thought, watching the auction proceed smoothly.
‘If I’d just said that back then, my life wouldn’t have gotten this tangled.’
Claude’s words had lodged themselves in my chest like a splinter, and I couldn’t dislodge them.
You know how it is sometimes—things you don’t think twice about in the moment, but when you replay them later, they rankle.
But it was too awkward to press the matter now. That was precisely my predicament.
‘And Gail said he’d be here first, but I don’t see him anywhere……’
“……Nothing’s going right.”
The mutter escaped my lips along with a deep sigh, and an unexpected figure’s shoulders stiffened beside me.
It was Romaine, who’d been sitting quietly at my side.
She’d been watching my face intently since before, and apparently couldn’t bear it any longer—her eyes squeezed shut.
“Um, ma’am……!”
When I glanced over, Romaine’s eyes were glistening.
“I’m sorry you were frightened earlier. It’s my fault……”
“What? No, it’s fine.”
“But ma’am, I’ve never seen you make that expression before. Your face went as white as paper……”
Now that she’d opened her mouth, guilt seemed to overwhelm her—tears were threatening to spill.
……Come to think of it, was I really looking that wretched?
I patted Romaine’s head gently, lost in thought.
‘This useless body of mine. I have to do something about it before I cause real trouble.’
Big men, older men, men with muscle to throw around—every time I faced that type, it ended in a scene. As if any of them were worth the fuss.
“I’m so sorry. I should have helped you, but my legs just wouldn’t move……”
“No, it’s fine. Even if you had come, he would’ve just kept clinging. That’s the sort he is.”
“Still, I’m grateful Claude arrived when he did. It could have ended very badly otherwise.”
“……Yes, it could have.”
I nodded.
The fact that I’d been helped was undeniable.
But was it really acceptable for him to behave that recklessly?
The man was a marquis, after all.
Then Romaine offered a casual clarification.
“Claude’s position is rather unique, you see. Since he’ll be returning to the Western Territory anyway, he doesn’t concern himself with Social Circle reputation.”
Ah, that explained it.
In that case, I couldn’t be more grateful.
I, who was always watching for the Social Circle’s approval, could never have dared what he’d just done—yet he’d seen it through for me.
I genuinely wanted to treat him to a drink later as thanks, but……
‘He’d probably hate being obliged like that.’
Watching Claude in the front row, using the Auction Paddle like a back scratcher, idly tapping his shoulders, I gave a small nod.
Right. No point in stirring the pot. Best let sleeping dogs lie.
“But ma’am,”
“Mm?”
“Was that gray-haired man from earlier—”
At that moment, Gail’s silhouette flashed past through the half-open auction house door.
“Wait, hold on!”
I sprang from my seat like a coiled spring and hurried after him.
But by the time I’d stepped into the Exhibition Hall, Gail’s figure had already vanished like smoke.
‘Where did he go?’
I stood frozen in that spot, like someone who’d seen a mirage.
The quiet Exhibition Hall, where all the paintings had disappeared, echoed only with the dry, mechanical ticking of a clock.

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