My Husband Lives in a Painting - Chapter 23

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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 · Episode 23
“I’m told it’s Memory Loss. According to my mother, I fell from a tree when I turned ten.”
“……From a tree?”
That was genuinely difficult to believe.
Kamiyou, who seemed entirely disinterested in outdoor pursuits, had been a mischievous tree-climber as a child?
“So I may have had proper hobbies before my memory faded. But now……I’m afraid I’m not certain.”
Kamiyou displayed a rare discomfort—not disgust, but rather a kind of helplessness.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to say anything in particular.”
Just as I rushed to change the subject, he spoke first.
“No. You’re right, ma’am. I do think of myself as a rather dull person.”
“…….”
“But I haven’t always been as proper as you might think. I do entertain unkind thoughts from time to time.”
“Unkind thoughts?”
“Shall I give you an example?”
“……Oh.”
The moment I nodded absently, the distance between us collapsed.
I realized it too late.
The single step he’d always maintained between us—I’d never understood it could vanish in an instant.
“K-Kamiyou.”
He crossed that illusory boundary and gently gathered my hair in his palm.
“I sometimes imagine,”
“…….”
“If someone like me were ever to kiss you—you, who grow rigid at the mere touch of a hand—”
As his lips descended softly onto my hair, I swallowed dryly and suppressed my quickening breath.
“What expression would you wear?”
Our eyes entangled.
And in that moment, Kamiyou seemed to read that what flickered in my gaze was more than mere tension.
We were close enough that our lips might touch with the slightest movement.
……But his touch, which had approached like a spring breeze, ultimately came to rest without crossing that threshold.
“I am not the angel of Ortega that people praise, ma’am.”
The corner of his eye curved in a lovely arc, and my face flushed crimson.
* * *
Morning in Ortega is industrious.
Why, in one great household, the elder of the house rises at five in the morning, and the entire family adjusts their schedule accordingly.
Our household was no different. Because Belladonna rose early, the morning rhythms of Ortega naturally shifted forward as well.
‘A year and a half of this, and I’ve grown quite accustomed.’
The saying that circumstance shapes character held true.
Romaine, who had been arranging my auburn hair high to suit the pleasant weather, paused and asked without ceasing her work.
“Madam, your complexion looks lovely today.”
“Does it?”
“Indeed. You must have had a pleasant dream!”
Her thoughtless remark proved sharper than intended.
For I had, in fact, spent the previous night—for the first time in an age—dreaming of Kamiyou.
‘One ought to lose sleep when dreaming of the dead, yet here I am, sleeping soundly.’
But could he truly claim not to be an angel?
Meanwhile, I had grown quite accustomed to Romaine’s care.
With my hair neatly twisted into a bun and dressed in a gown of subdued hue, I rose from the vanity.
“Will you be going to the Studio today?”
“Yes. I will. Though before that…….”
My hand, searching through the drawer, suddenly stilled. The item I’d placed in the drawer’s deepest corner would not come loose.
“Romaine. That Red Ribbon that was in here……”
“Yes?”
“Ah, never mind.”
I suddenly remembered—I had once ordered Romaine to remove every trace from my room.
‘Why did I do that?’
A hollow feeling settled over me, so I closed both the drawer and my lips.
But at the time, there was no choice. Right after the funeral, I was in no state of mind.
And yet…….
“…….”
Leaving that longing behind, I slipped from my room and made straight for the Studio in the Byeolgung.
“Romaine. You know what to do today, right?”
“Yes! I’ll guard it thoroughly so no one gets through!”
“I appreciate it every time.”
“Don’t mention it!”
Romaine, her fists clenched and eyes shining, inspired more confidence than any knight.
Click.
I closed the door, cleared the white canvas cloth aside, and gently placed my hand upon it.
Closing my eyes for a moment, then opening them, the familiar expanse of Flower Hill spread before me, vivid and clear.
‘Where is Kamiyou?’
A pleasant breeze brushed against me as I climbed the hill, and a small cottage came into view.
At that moment, Kamiyou appeared at the window frame, waving at me with a bright, cheerful face.
“Oh!”
Seeing his face after four days away—smooth and unblemished—eased my mind more than I expected.
“Did things go well with Gail?”
“Yes. Thanks to the bait you provided, everything went smoothly.”
Kamiyou rested his chin on the window frame and smiled brightly.
“Ah, it really was something.”
“Something?”
“Never mind—it’s nothing.”
Kamiyou’s cheeks flushed slightly as if he were lost in bliss.
I’d pretend I didn’t notice.
Inside the cottage, black tea that Kamiyou had brewed earlier was still steaming.
Sitting across from him, I sipped the tea and organized my thoughts about recent events.
“First, I’m relieved the plan proceeded as expected.”
“It went faster than I anticipated. Two weeks, wasn’t it?”
“He’s always been credulous by nature, even before all this.”
Over the past ten days, I’d made Gail feel that the painting possessed a mysterious power.
Beyond bringing the discord between Claude Company and the indigenous people of South Island to the surface, I’d also ensured that news of Cashew’s fleet being destroyed reached Gail faster than anyone else.
All of it approached him wearing the mask of fortune.
“But it would’ve been difficult for him to become obsessed with a painting for such a mundane reason alone. There must have been another catalyst.”
“What’s not obvious about it? Something to provoke his competitive spirit.”
“I heard he had a younger sibling. That might be it.”
“Anyway, now it’s my turn.”
Next, Kamiyou told me about what had transpired between him and Gail.
After listening to the entire account, I couldn’t hide my unsettled expression.
“So they really were conducting illegal adoptions. And to think Marquis Boutere was involved.”
“If we dig into Pagoda, Anmari’s whereabouts should come to light.”
“We’ll need to rescue her before things get worse.”
I trailed off and carefully studied Kamiyou’s expression.
Truth be told, what had shocked me lay elsewhere—not in the illegal adoptions themselves.
‘Gail isn’t the culprit?’
The full account Kamiyou had given was this:
On his husband’s birthday, as they quarreled, Gail had tried to strike the back of his head with pottery. But Marquis Boutere suddenly appeared and stopped him, leaving it as an attempted crime.
‘But is that really what happened?’
The way the next target was selected so smoothly felt disconcertingly convenient.
‘How far should I trust this man?’
My gaze drifted naturally toward the door behind Kamiyou.
The door leading to another painting. Unlike when I’d seen it before, the doorknob was now wound tightly with chains.
Why lock it away?
There’s no one here but him and me.
“What are you thinking so hard about, O?”
“I was struggling to decide what sort of painting to create for Pagoda.”
“Ah, so that’s the problem.”
Kamiyou, remembering when I’d once struggled to find inspiration, naturally shifted the topic.
“In times like these, it’s crucial to understand what the client truly desires. Let me think…”
“Pagoda likes women, doesn’t he? What if you painted beautiful women in abundance?”
“Hmm, someone who’d buy women directly would surely prefer the real thing to a painting, wouldn’t he?”
“Ah. Yes, you’re right.”
‘I wish I’d already gathered information about his ideal type.’
There was no possibility that I’d know the tastes of such a contemptible creature.
“Why not ask him directly instead?”
“Ah, there’s a Banquet coming up soon, isn’t there? Do you think that man will attend?”
“Probably. And honestly, it’s better to act than to just talk behind his back like this—”
……
“……How long have you been doing that?”
Kamiyou leaned against the window frame, watching me in silence.

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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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