My Husband Lives in a Painting - Chapter 57
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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 57
“Oh, no! I never meant it that way—!”
“No. To my ear, that’s precisely what you meant.”
The man before her made no effort to hide his displeasure at being treated like a suspect.
“Oh, I didn’t…….”
Freita suddenly realized she had misspoken.
‘But I really didn’t mean it that way. How did this get so twisted?’
She did not know.
It was not her mistake—it was that Densem, pricked by his own conscience, had grown defensive and sharp.
“……I’m sorry.”
“If you understand, then leave now. I have an afternoon engagement.”
“But—!”
“Do you have more to say?”
“……Hic.”
Tap, tap.
Tears gathered in her large eyes and began to spill down Freita’s cheeks one by one.
It was the mortification of her prideful dignity shattered, and the resentment of facing something entirely unfamiliar.
“Sigh…… This is why women are……”
Though Freita was considered quite beautiful in society, Densem turned his head away, his disdain entirely unconcealed.
Yet some deeply ingrained aristocratic sense of duty caught hold of him.
Densem irritably rummaged through his breast pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and tossed it toward her as though dispensing charity.
“Wipe yourself with this, and once you’ve composed yourself, leave.”
“Ugh…… *sniff*. I came to tell you because I think the real culprit is someone else.”
“Yes, yes.”
“I…… I saw them. I really saw them.”
At her unceasing words, Densem threw back his head and exhaled heavily.
But he could not turn away from what came next.
“C-Camille and Ob Ortega together, I truly, truly saw them……”
“What?”
Hic, hic.
Freita, whose shoulders had been heaving with exaggerated sobs, slanted a glance at Densem.
‘Will he listen to me now?’
The room fell silent, and Freita slowly lifted her head.
But Densem’s expression was peculiar. His shadowed face had gone rigid, as though he had overheard something he should not have.
“Lord Densem, what—— Eek!”
In that very instant, Densem’s hand seized Freita by the collar.
“Where did you see them?”
“Wh-what are you doing—— Ahhh!”
“Tell me.”
Densem ignored Freita’s scream, his gaze boring into hers with relentless intensity.
Freita thrashed and gasped for breath, drenched in terror.
“In the Plaza the other evening……!”
“Are you certain? If you’re lying, Freita, you will pay the price.”
“It’s true! Camille was definitely alive!”
“……That can’t be.”
Densem murmured softly.
‘Camille came back alive? Then why…… didn’t she come find me?’
His mind reeled. So much so that he could barely register Freita glaring at him before his eyes.
Unable to restrain her volatile temper, she wrenched his hand away roughly and vented her fury.
“Don’t you understand anything? Haven’t you even considered that Ob might have spirited Camille away?”
“……What did you say?”
“My father says the Demon Followers have been running rampant lately. What if she faked her death and took Camille for herself?”
“That makes no sense……”
Densem did not bother to take Freita’s nonsense seriously.
The hypothesis that Ob Ortega had spirited away Camille was fundamentally untenable.
Because Camille was undoubtedly dead.
“……”
Yet if even a shred of possibility remained, doubt could not be cast aside.
Densem came to his conclusion with a darkened gaze.
‘I must take control of this situation.’
“……Very well, then. You should return now.”
“What? Wait a moment! Don’t treat me like some piece of baggage—”
“Escort her out.”
“Hey, wait! Kalangko!”
Freita was led away by the servants’ hands, thrust out of the Reception Room like an unwanted guest.
By the time her voice had vanished completely down the corridor, Densem’s thoughts had settled. He took a seat at his desk and summoned the chamberlain.
“Put someone on Ob Ortega.”
And if Camille Ortega truly was alive——
……one more time.
* * *
The plan unfolded smoothly, exactly as scheduled.
First, I had someone follow Densem, watching his movements.
Then I confirmed that he visited the same tavern at least twice a week.
Next, what caught my attention was his preferences.
I gathered all the young ladies he had been engaged to marry and compared them. A pattern emerged among them.
‘A woman with red hair and glamorous features.’
Well, I had no interest in judging anyone’s taste, so I picked up my brush without delay.
The painting was completed within days, and I immediately hired a courier.
“My lady. I have delivered the gift to the young duke as you instructed.”
“Did you reveal my name?”
“Yes. They said they could not deliver it without knowing the source, so I provided your name as you commanded.”
“……As expected. Thank you for your trouble. Your payment is here.”
“Thank you, madam.”
The courier bowed briefly, then adjusted his hat brim low and departed from the mansion.
Through the window, I watched his retreating figure slip smoothly past the mansion in the dim dawn light, my thoughts running deep.
‘Right. That difficult man would never simply accept a gift from a stranger.’
So revealing my name had been unavoidable.
But it didn’t matter. Once the painting reached his hands, it was done.
‘All that’s left is time. If Densem opens the wrapping, if that painting captures his heart even once——’
Then everything that follows——
“Just trust me, darling. I’ll handle everything!”
I recalled Camille’s image, blowing kisses at me in succession while drawing great hearts with both hands.
It had been her last bit of playfulness, just before she stepped out of the canvas last night.
“……You really do excel at your work, don’t you.”
I wrapped my face with cool palms to suppress the heat rising unbidden within me.
With the impulsive warmth drained away, my mind cooled back to its usual coldness.
‘Anyway, what should I do with myself while we wait for the finale.’
From the previous two instances, it had taken Camille several days to complete her work.
It would be wasteful to idle away that time.
For the sake of establishing an alibi just in case, it would be wise to create a point of contact with someone.
“Come to think of it, I believe Claude mentioned he’d be leaving for his western territory soon.”
His words came back to me, spoken in passing.
“The domain has been vacant for a long time, so I’m thinking of paying it a visit. Everyone keeps asking when I’ll return.”
“Is it very far?”
“Not particularly. It’s right ahead.”
“Hmm…….”
Tap, tap. I drummed my fingers against my cheek, lost in thought, but not for long.
After quickly organizing the tasks in my mind, I cast my gaze out the window again.
Through the cool dawn air, daylight was slowly breaking.
* * *
The western region of Edvart was a gentle, fertile plain.
Because the ground never froze deeply throughout the seasons, agriculture thrived, and it was known as one of the empire’s principal granaries.
The western domain of Ortega, which Claude governed, was likewise famous for its warm winds and fertile soil.
So everything was fine, truly fine——
……except it wasn’t close at all.
I emerged from the carriage with a haggard face and immediately clamped my hand over my mouth.
“……Ugh.”
Thanks to the Teleport Portal, the travel time had been shortened, but the half-day procession of carriages that followed was the problem.
To reach the domain, we had to cross a mountain range, and throughout the journey, the carriage rattled without ceasing.
And so I, who suffered terribly from motion sickness, was forced to taste hell itself.
“Oh! My lady, look over there! There’s a windmill!”
At Romain’s bright exclamation, I wiped the cold sweat from my brow and looked up.
Beyond the manor stretched green fields and a red windmill.
“It’s enormous! Just like the pictures in the books!”
“…Yes, it is.”
It seemed she wasn’t the only one captivated by the new surroundings.
Joen and Anne-Marie, whom I’d invited to join us, were equally bright-eyed.
“Oh! There are so many horses!”
“My lady, the manor is truly beautiful…! It feels like stepping into a fairy tale.”
“Girls, let’s make sure we visit up there soon.”
“Sister! Today, let’s go today!”
“Shall we?”
Setting aside the queasiness in my stomach, I found myself smiling at how delighted the children seemed with this place.
Then Claude, dismounting from his horse, drew near and studied my complexion, his brow narrowing.
“Is something the matter?”
“…Claude.”
“Hmm. You’re usually not this pale.”
…
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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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