My Husband Lives in a Painting - Chapter 29

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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 029
“I’m sorry?”
“Like what happened at the exhibition.”
“……Ah.”
I thought he would have forgotten by now, but Claude apparently remembered how frightened I’d been when Pagoda seized me at the last exhibition.
His words caught me off guard, and without thinking, I pressed my lips together tightly.
“Come to think of it, I suppose it’s not entirely incomprehensible. Everyone has their own particular weakness, after all.”
“…….”
His words were rough, his gaze steady.
“I merely spoke without thinking. If I’ve upset you by dredging up something you’d rather forget, then I apologize.”
Yet there was warmth in it—clumsy perhaps, but unmistakably tender.
My hands, resting on my lap, tensed without my meaning to.
“……No, that’s not it.”
I barely parted my lips, and after a moment of silence, I found myself breaking into a small smile.
“But……how would you know it’s me, even if I cry out?”
“Then call my name. Call it so I can be certain to hear it.”
“I’ll deny it later out of embarrassment.”
“You know as well as I do—I’ve never concerned myself with others’ opinions.”
He left a faint smile behind and strode unhesitatingly toward the Terrace.
I watched his receding figure in silence, breathing steadily once he’d gone.
……Thanks to him, I’d found a small measure of courage. The courage to face what frightened me.
The moment Claude stepped away, as if he’d been waiting, Butere’s footsteps turned toward me.
“Madame Ortega, alone in a place like this?”
Violet hair and long, colorless eyes that seemed deliberately slitted.
Someone once said his smile was especially charming, but to me it merely looked like an actor performing an expression—unnatural and forced.
“Marquis Butere.”
Still, today I too had to smile prettily at him, like an actress playing a part.
“You told me to ask whenever I needed a shoulder to lean on, didn’t you?”
“Did I?”
“I’ve grown curious about your tastes.”
I’d deliberated over those words for quite some time.
“…….”
Pagoda’s eyes widened.
But a moment later, the lips that were always spewing crude remarks from the shadows split into a wide grin.
“If that is your wish, my lady, then gladly.”
* * *
Barely had the Spring Festival Banquet drawn to a close when an Invitation Letter from Butere arrived.
“……I didn’t expect an invitation to come so quickly.”
I gazed down at the Marquis’s Coat of Arms—golden bees rendered in sharp relief—and found myself drifting into memory.
Looking back, I realized this man had not begun his crude advances toward me after I became a Widow.
And yet he hadn’t shown particular interest before the marriage either, so perhaps what excited his curiosity was simply the fact that I was Camille’s wife.
A betrothed, a distant relative, and a friend’s wife.
Savoring such forbidden relationships was the mark of his vulgar taste.
“……Ah, that’s right.”
There is one scene I remember with crystal clarity.
“The Claude Baronial House? I wasn’t aware such a family existed. ……Well, that’s hardly the point, Madame.”
“Yes?”
“Tell me—do you perhaps harbor a fantasy about inappropriate relations?”
‘Just remembering it makes my skin crawl.’
Merely conjuring up that fragmented memory was enough to twist my face in disgust.
How little he must have regarded me, and what contempt he must have held for Camille, to speak such filth on our wedding day.
Yet he had been confident—with an arrogant certainty that his approach would never face any real consequences.
Pagoda Butere had caused scandal with countless ladies over the years without ever setting foot in a courtroom.
His high rank as a Marquis at such a young age surely played a part, but there was another reason why everyone bowed before him.
‘It must be because of that rumor.’
That famous whisper about Pagoda Butere being an illegitimate son carrying the Emperor’s blood.
‘Whether it’s true or false will likely never be proven. The Emperor is bedridden, there is no Empress, and the Crown Prince who remains is weak.’
But the fact that Belladonna had placed him among Camille’s inner circle suggested it was probably true.
For wherever power dwells, corruption follows like a stench.
“Sigh……why is the world always like this?”
I heaved a heavy sigh without thinking, and Romaine came hurrying over from where she was cleaning the room.
“My lady, is something wrong?”
I crouched down on the floor and stroked the head of Romaine, who peeked shyly at me from above the table.
“……Romaine.”
Before I fulfilled the contract, I had to leave her with as much as possible.
Money, jewels, anything at all.
“At least I’ll make sure you don’t end up on the streets.”
“Pardon? On the streets?”
“It’s nothing.”
I set aside the invitation letter specifying a date and time to visit the Mansion, then rose from my chair.
The moment I stood, Romaine followed as if she’d been waiting for it.
“My lady, are we going to the Art Studio?”
“Yes. Let’s go now.”
That’s right.
I’d vented enough. It was time to resume my revenge.
* * *
The moment I stepped into the painting, I saw something very strange.
There was a bird flying across the bright blue sky. No, looking closer, it wasn’t a bird at all——.
“Camille, what are you doing up there?”
It was a demon.
“Oh, you’re here?”
“…….”
“Wait a second, I’ll come down right away!”
Camille, who had been drifting lazily through the sky, descended at the sound of my voice.
He touched down lightly on the ground and brushed the dust from his clothes with casual familiarity.
It seemed that among the restored powers I’d recovered through my soul, the ability to float through the air was included.
“Phew, I was getting so bored. I was just testing out the Flight Ability.”
“And was it fun?”
“Yeah, in its own way.”
Camille smiled brightly as he headed toward the Cottage, his feet hovering just barely above the ground.
Watching him move freely, as if he’d perfectly mastered the sensation of flight, I couldn’t help but let the words slip out.
“I wish I’d come in later. I feel like I’ve interrupted something precious.”
But the response I got was unexpected.
“……No, don’t say that.”
At the same moment, our eyes met.
“I really have been waiting for you.”
“…….”
“Enough to start missing you.”
A soft voice flowed from the corner of his lips.
It was a tone I’d never heard from him before—he was always so playful.
I stood dumbly nodding in agreement, and thankfully, the darkness that had clouded his expression instantly returned to its usual brightness.
“Good, then let’s go to our nest.”
When I sit at the small table inside the Cottage, Camille brings a bowl of snacks and black tea.
The snacks that appear on the plate are always whatever I desire most at that moment. Today it was a fish-shaped pastry.
The moment I bit the tail of the pastry, Camille rested his chin on the table and looked at me.
“Anyway, you said you had something to consult with me about.”
“Ah, yes.”
“What’s troubling you, dear?”
Dear?
At the term that suddenly spilled out, my mouth went stiff in an instant.
Camille leisurely savored my slack-jawed expression and smiled with satisfaction.
His long, pointed tail swayed in rhythm with that smile—it was infuriatingly charming.
“……Ugh.”
I wasn’t going to fall for such trivial provocation.
I pressed down on the bridge of my nose, which had begun to furrow, and resumed my explanation.
“I received an invitation from the Marquis today. I’ll need to visit his Mansion soon, and since this is my first time, I’m uncertain.”
“Mm-hmm, go on.”
“Is there anything I should be careful about……?”
My question was vague because I myself didn’t know what I should be wary of.
The purpose of a woman entering a bachelor’s Mansion alone was obvious enough. But precisely because I wanted no part in such an obvious situation, I wanted to erect some kind of defense.
“Well, before that—there’s something I’d like to ask you.”
Camille fell silent, ceasing his teasing. After a long moment of deliberation, he spoke again, his voice low.
“You told me you had no physical contact with me even when we were married.”
“……Yes.”
“Is it possible you’re afraid of men?”

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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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