My Husband Lives in a Painting - Chapter 54

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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 054
It was Belladonna.
Evelyn stood behind her always, shadowing her like a phantom.
“Mother, what brings you to this place…?”
As far as I knew, there was no special gathering at the Temple today. Which made her visit all the more unexpected.
“This is not a matter for you to meddle in. But I have every right to question your actions.”
“…”
At the edge in her tone, a sharpness I hadn’t heard in ages, my lips sealed shut of their own accord.
Still, I owed her an answer.
“Why else would one visit the Temple, Mother? I came to settle my restless heart, nothing more.”
“I had no idea your faith ran so deep.”
“…There are sides of me you don’t know, Mother.”
“No. That will not do.”
For reasons I couldn’t fathom, Belladonna spoke curtly, her expression hardening.
As I narrowed my eyes, trying to divine her unusually brittle intentions, she made a brief gesture toward Evelyn.
“Evelyn. From now on, you will personally confirm Narrator’s whereabouts. And report to me without fail.”
“Yes?”
“Understood, madam.”
Evelyn bowed her head, her face expressionless.
The measure was so excessive that I—rarely—could not hide my expression.
No matter how close a confidant, to have a servant account for my every move and seek permission for it was utterly beyond reason.
“Mother, surely this is—”
It was the very moment I meant to protest.
“…Camille?”
Belladonna’s gaze, which had been sweeping the empty air listlessly, froze like a nail driven through the face of the man standing beside me.
Heated with indignation, I reflexively looked between them both, and then—too late—understood.
Ah. So Belladonna had never seen this man before.
“You… why are you…?”
“Hmm?”
She trembled, her lips quivering, unable to continue. It was the first crack in her composure since the funeral.
Basaria, regarding Belladonna with bewilderment, smiled gently and introduced himself.
“It is my first time meeting you. I am Basaria, a Priest from Etherion.”
“What?”
“Having arrived only recently, I am yet unaccustomed to the empire’s customs. I would be grateful for your patience.”
“…”
A Priest. And Etherion.
Belladonna’s face drained of color, just as mine had once done.
Her eyelids trembled as if denying reality itself.
‘It makes sense. I felt the same way.’
But Belladonna proved one step ahead of me.
Before the awkward silence could stretch further, she erased her shock with astonishing speed, composing herself with practiced grace.
“…So you are the one the High Priest mentioned.”
“You know the High Priest, then?”
Listening to their exchange, I blinked at this new revelation.
‘She met with the High Priest privately?’
I was still marveling at just how far Belladonna’s influence extended
when Basaria suddenly extended his hand, giving everyone no chance to object before he brought the back of her hand to his lips.
“…!”
“It is an honor to meet someone of such noble standing.”
What came next was even more shocking—an unmistakable act of open protection.
“If I may presume to speak, Narrator has been assisting me with my work. I would ask that you not be too harsh with her.”
“Basaria!”
‘Has this man lost his mind?’
I reached out urgently to stop him.
But he merely turned to me and gave a light wink.
More unsettling still was Belladonna’s response.
“…”
Having received a bow of respect from a man so like her own son, Belladonna slowly parted her firmly closed lips.
And as she withdrew her hand from Basaria’s, she cast her gaze toward me.
“I withdraw my last words. Upon reflection, it seems I was worrying needlessly.”
“……Pardon?”
“Still, mind yourself always. There is nothing more unseemly than becoming the subject of others’ idle talk.”
After offering Basaria one more formal bow, Belladonna departed with Evelyn in tow.
“……Then, may you be blessed by God.”
“And may you be blessed as well, sister.”
I watched her receding figure fade from view, lost in thought, when Basaria spoke up with unmistakable cheer.
“You are most kind. I believe it was the right choice to speak frankly with you.”
“…….”
“I do hope I’ve been of some use to you?”
His eyes gleamed like a puppy awaiting a caress.
Unable to conjure an adequate response, I answered instead by pressing my lips firmly shut.
“You seemed rather startled upon seeing me. Might I ask why?”
The moment those words left his mouth, a thought struck me.
‘Perhaps…….’
This could be the chance to explain, all at once, the suspicions that had surrounded me until now.
With this justification, I could plausibly account for every strange thing I’d done.
After a brief pause, I slowly parted my lips.
“Because you resemble someone very closely.”
“May I ask whom you mean?”
……Would he truly ask without knowing anything?
I fixed him with an unwavering stare, determined not to miss even the slightest shift in his expression.
“My late husband.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You look exactly like Camille, my dead husband.”
I delivered the words with careful precision and watched for his reaction.
“Ah…… Oh my.”
He wore a bewildered expression, as though the notion had never crossed his mind.
* * *
On the fourth day exactly after I first set foot in the Temple, I finally caught sight of Densum.
“He comes every Wednesday without fail. Did he choose the quietest day on purpose?”
I observed Densum in silence from behind a pillar, his head bowed in prayer.
“He doesn’t seem to come with his family.”
Then I noticed something odd.
In the vast hall, not a single soul sat near Densum—they formed a circle around him, keeping their distance.
I was wondering why everyone avoided the prime central seats and shunned him when a familiar voice sounded from behind me.
“Ah, Brother Densum. What remarkable piety you display. Without fail, you visit at this very hour each week.”
“……Gasp.”
I nearly cried out, but stifled the sound and slowly turned around.
Basaria stood behind me—I couldn’t say when he’d gotten there—his bright eyes blinking down at me.
“Good day to you, sister.”
“Cough, ah, good day…….”
“I’m delighted you’ve come again. But why are you hiding here?”
“…….”
His lingering gaze, sweeping up and down my form, unsettled me.
A fair suspicion, truly. A woman lurking in this sacred temple, spying on others instead of praying.
I steadied my wavering eyes and forced a composed cough.
“Ahem. I’m not hiding—I’m simply rather shy.”
“I see. The great hall is crowded, so you stepped aside for a moment. But it seems you and Brother Densum are acquainted?”
“……Pardon, but aren’t you busy?”
“Fortunately, I have the day off.”
“…….”
My gaze, unmoored, trembled faintly.
For a moment my mind grew hazy, but I quickly gathered myself.
‘Not now. If I don’t shake him off now, he’ll keep pestering me.’
The mere fact that someone who knew my face had become entangled in a plan that demanded secrecy was giving me a headache.
So, with a look of resolve, I spoke quietly.
“Basaria. Let me be frank with you now. I’m sorry, but I don’t believe in God.”
“What?”
“The truth is, I came here only to examine the remarriage candidates my father had selected for me.”
And I pointed a finger at Densum, who remained absorbed in his prayers, oblivious to all of it.
“And Densum Calanko over there—the minor duke is actually included on that list as well.”
“…….”
Basaria blinked slowly.
I couldn’t meet his gaze, letting my eyes fall.
“So please don’t concern yourself with someone like me, and it would be better if you just—”
“Thank you for being honest with me.”
Basaria cut off my words abruptly, offering something entirely unexpected.
“But I wouldn’t want to recommend him as a remarriage prospect for you.”
“……I’m sorry?”
“I’m not sure how to put this, but—well, he has rather unusual qualities.”
“Unusual? What do you—”
It didn’t take long to understand what he meant.
Splash—
At the sound of water pouring, I turned my head instinctively and found Densum dumping Holy Water without mercy over a stranger’s head.

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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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