My Husband Lives in a Painting - Chapter 31

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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 31
“There’s no real reason to visit the Mansion. You were fine enough avoiding such courtesies at the exhibition, so why freeze yourself to death with formality now?”
“Well, that’s true, but… I’ve already committed to going.”
“You sometimes seem intelligent, and yet other times you appear remarkably foolish.”
“My, now there’s nothing you won’t say.”
“I’m merely listing my observations.”
Claude’s manner of speaking was irritating, but there was something almost comforting in his unguarded honesty.
Of course, to the eyes of a faithful servant, it could only appear as rank discourtesy.
“My lord! Really, do choose your words more carefully. What sort of disrespect is this toward my lady?!”
“What more could you ask? I used formal address, didn’t I? My tone was respectful.”
“A glossy wrapper doesn’t make what’s inside any prettier!”
“If you observed my behavior in public affairs, you wouldn’t say such things.”
“Hmph, should my lady be expected to account for every detail of your private conduct?”
…….
Well, that was masterfully done. I almost applauded without thinking.
Pressed from all angles by Romaine’s critiques, Claude surrendered and fell silent. He was a man quick to concede a point.
Romaine, who had bristled just moments before, turned to me with an expression transformed by a full one hundred and eighty degrees, speaking in soft, tender tones.
“All set, my lady. It’s rather chilly outside, so I think you should wear this shawl as well.”
“Thank you. There’s truly no one like you.”
“Oh, you’re too kind.”
“……The two of you do scatter sesame seeds everywhere, don’t you?”
As I gave Romaine a light wave, she bowed with perfect propriety and left the room.
Since there was time before our departure, I decided to continue my conversation a bit longer with Claude, who had taken the trouble to visit me here in person.
The moment I sat on the sofa, Claude threw himself into the opposite seat as though he’d been waiting for exactly this.
“Are you acquainted with the Marquis Boutaire?”
…….
His dull expression gave way, a moment later, and he parted his lips.
“Before I answer that question, let me ask you something first. Have you heard the rumors that the Marquis is the Emperor’s illegitimate son?”
“It was quite the scandal once. But why?”
“It’s true. When I was a child, his estate was near my Domain.”
Claude added matter-of-factly.
“It was a lonely place—an estate without any land attached to it—and then one day it simply vanished from sight. I only learned later that after his mother died, he received his title and went up to the Capital.”
“So you knew each other then? You’re about the same age, so… oh.”
A scene I’d forgotten suddenly came back to me.
At the charity exhibition, Pagoda had been staring intently at Claude.

“Wait, now that I think of it, you…”
Could the two of them have known each other as children?
Claude, as though reading my mind, answered at once.
“We were not close.”
“Why not?”
…….
He seemed to have much to say, his lips working silently for a moment. But what came next demolished my hopes for any useful information with depressing finality.
“……In any case, it would be better not to entangle yourself with that man.”
He’s deliberately holding something back right now, isn’t he?
Hmm.
I narrowed my eyes and studied Claude with stubborn persistence. But he clamped his lips shut like an oyster, clearly resolved not to say another word.
In the end, a small nod from me brought the conversation to a vague and unsatisfying close.
“I’ll return before dark.”
After we finished talking, Claude did not bother to see me out.
Yet even as I climbed into the carriage, the conversation with Claude refused to leave my mind.
With a slightly troubled expression, I placed one foot on the step, when I felt my dress being tugged from behind.
“Sister.”
“Hmm?”
It was Johen.
“You have another purpose besides finding our sister, don’t you? They said that man is terribly bad.”
…….
The child’s clear eyes reflected me like a mirror.
“Then punish him first.”
“……Johen.”
“And my sister… if by any chance she’s still alive, I’d be grateful if you could save her when the time comes.”
For a moment, I found myself at a loss for words.
This world seemed to produce children far too wise for their years, as if they were compelled to shoulder the burdens that negligent adults left behind.
“I promise you.”
I ran my fingers gently through Johen’s hair, offering a soft smile.
“And don’t worry. I’ll find out what happened to Annmarie, no matter what.”
Perhaps my vengeance was not mine alone to claim.
* * *
The Marquis’s Mansion stood not far from Ortega.
And that fact unsettled me.
It meant that had I chosen differently, I might well have been capable of an affair with him.
‘But that would never have happened. A rake like Pagoda Boutaire is precisely the type I despise.’
He was a man who had christened himself Defective Goods.
A troubled childhood and the deprivation of affection had twisted into a warped hunger, driving him to entangle himself with countless women in shameful ways. Or so I imagined.
But it was common knowledge in society—I needed no confirmation from Claude.
And ironically, that very label of “Defective Goods” seemed to hold a peculiar allure for certain women.
‘In any case, I understand neither sort.’
Before stepping down from the carriage at the Marquis’s residence, I reviewed my objectives for the day.
First: find evidence regarding Camille’s murder.
Second: learn Annmarie’s whereabouts.
“Welcome, madam. The Master awaits you.”
‘Very well. Let’s begin.’
I entered the Mansion proper, guided by the Marquis’s servant.
The estate was quite spacious for a man living alone, and the retinue was sizable—yet all seemed bound by an unspoken pact to hold their tongues.
Setting aside the slight awkwardness of the atmosphere, Pagoda greeted me in the Drawing Room with markedly gracious courtesy.
“My lady, I’ve been awaiting your arrival! Do allow me to have tea brought.”
“How kind of you, Marquis.”
“Not at all. ……Majordomo?”
“Yes, sir.”
At Pagoda’s command, the servants moved with practiced efficiency.
The aroma of Black Tea steeped in an ornate gilt-rimmed ceramic cup soon filled the Drawing Room.
A sip of the warm brew eased my tension somewhat. As I steadied my breath, Pagoda broke the silence first.
“I’m deeply honored that you’ve made time for me, madam. Has your disposition shifted in some way?”
“Nothing so grand. It’s simply that after more than a month, the sorrow has begun to dull on its own.”
“That is the nature of mankind, I’m afraid. What we do not keep near eventually fades from memory.”
The conversation with the Marquis proceeded at a measured pace.
Plainly, having plucked so many flowers, he possessed a certain seasoned skill—he was adept at modulating the rhythm of discourse, and thus the discomfort was less than I’d anticipated. And yet……
‘Could this man truly be the culprit?’
I resolved to venture a more probing question.
“Do you never think of marriage, Marquis?”
“Ah, that inquiry?”
“Yes. It’s nothing profound—merely curiosity.”
“Hmm……”
Pagoda’s words trailed off before a smile played at the corners of his mouth.
“Madam, you once asked about my preferences, did you not?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I have always found your crimson eyes exceptionally beautiful.”
The remark, straying somewhat from the subject at hand, left me momentarily frozen.
“For all the diverse women I have encountered, never have I witnessed a red so vivid.”
“……”
“Pigeon Blood, I believe they call it—a hue found only in the finest of rubies.”
The Marquis could not avert his gaze from my eyes.
The covetous gleam in his look left me struggling to maintain my composure.
“How generous of you to say so. I’m flattered.”
“My compliment carries intention. I trust you’ll accept it graciously.”
I was grateful for the table between our opposing chairs—it allowed me to keep the distance between us uncompromised.
“……Excuse me.”
“……”
Yet I found myself obliged to endure the occasional brush of his fingertips across the table’s surface.

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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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