The Fake Wife of the Strongest Husband Wants to Survive - Chapter 79

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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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Chapter 79
Matthew looked utterly exhausted as he slipped out of the Competition Venue.
His legs trembled so badly once the tension released that he had to lean against the wall to steady himself.
The pigment-stained tips of his fingers still quivered faintly.
Pesha approached and crouched beside him where he rested against the wall.
“Are you all right?”
“No…….”
The patron had arranged for the painter’s work to remain hidden from view, so Pesha couldn’t know what he had actually painted.
But because she trusted his talent, she felt no great anxiety.
“I think I’ve ruined it.”
Matthew, who had been muttering like a man possessed, soon descended into self-recrimination and excuses.
“I told you I shouldn’t do this. I said I wasn’t confident……. Now I’ll just be laughed at. They’ll tear apart the House of Namoi for sponsoring me too. But what can I do? It’s been how long since I broke my brush, and now after just four hours…….”
Pesha watched Matthew recite his despair with his face buried in both hands, then rose and offered hollow consolation.
“Hang in there.”
Matthew, who had been looking down, glanced sideways at Pesha.
She seemed to harbor no judgment, no certainty of victory, and despite the competition having just ended, she showed no sign of disturbance whatsoever.
“You’re……really all right?”
“About what?”
“You might be blamed for submitting such a painting in an important competition. The Princess might be furious.”
Pesha paused at his words as if considering, then replied brightly.
“If you’re worried enough about that, it means you painted a piece where the Ultramarine really shines. You did well.”
“…….”
“When I told you earlier that the results don’t matter, it wasn’t to encourage you—it was simply stating the facts as they are. You kept your promise, so I’ll keep mine about the sponsorship without any delays.”
“What?”
“The results come out in three days. It’s out of your hands now, so stop worrying and get some rest.”
She tapped his shoulder lightly and simply smiled.
Matthew couldn’t begin to understand Pesha’s composure.
His confusion remained the same three days later when the competition results were announced.
“Disqualification.”
“What did you say?”
“The House of Namoi was disqualified from the competition.”
He had rushed over the moment he heard the results were in, only to receive this bitter news.
“That’s a lie, right? I didn’t break any rules, so why would I be disqualified?”
“You did something worse than breaking rules. I saw the painting. You painted the Princess entirely in blue?”
“…….”
Matthew’s face went ashen at Pesha’s words.
The Princess had pale skin, striking blonde hair, and blue eyes.
So the Ultramarine Pesha had given him could only reasonably be used for her eyes.
But the eyes occupied too small an area in a portrait.
No matter how superior and beautiful the pigment, having it appear only in the irises would make it impossible to bring out the inherent beauty of the material itself.
So Matthew had boldly rejected every other color and focused instead on the blue of the Ultramarine.
To preserve the pigment’s natural hue, rather than diluting it with water or mixing it with other pigments to lower saturation, he had layered darker, deeper shades over the original intense color—creating a painting so overwhelming that the judges would count themselves fortunate if they didn’t faint.
When Pesha examined the painting after the judging, she burst into uncontrollable laughter.
Matthew had followed her request so thoroughly that he had created something beyond imagination.
At the word “disqualification,” Matthew dropped to his knees and clutched his head in agony.
“How could I ever presume to paint the Princess……? And it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, only for me to throw it away with disqualification…….”
Having painted so boldly, he now wept with belated timidity, and Pesha approached him with a newspaper.
“The disqualification isn’t the real issue—your painting is getting major coverage. It seems it’s already acquired a nickname.”
Matthew took the newspaper from her, and as he read the article through tears, his expression grew confused.
“……Why is my disqualification on the front page?”
“The actual winner got pushed to page three. Apparently a painter from the Clark Marquess Family.”
While Matthew stared blankly at the newspaper on his knees, someone suddenly snatched it from above.
Matthew’s head snapped up, and he instinctively flinched.
It was Owen, the man from whom Matthew had decided to flee at the mere sight of his shadow, appearing out of nowhere to read the newspaper.
The man who normally would have assailed him with sharp words or picked quarrels the moment they met was quiet today.
He simply read the article aloud, his voice steady.
“Shock. Royal Portrait Competition Concludes with House of Namoi’s Disqualification.”
“…….”
“As the Portrait Painting Competition drew to a successful close, one disqualified work became the center of controversy, overshadowing the competition results themselves. The painting in question was submitted by Matthew Clark, painter of the House of Namoi.”
As the words “disqualification” and “House of Namoi” left Owen’s lips together, cold sweat began to pour down Matthew’s face.
A man she’d never managed to control, always chafing under her hand—and now he’d brought disqualification upon himself at the very Competition Venue. What punishment might she inflict?
Yet Owen did not punish Matthew for the scandal he’d brought upon the house. Instead, he continued reading aloud from the Newspaper.
“The painting in question was reportedly covered entirely in blue pigment…. An anonymous Judge testified: ‘From Her Highness the Princess’s face to the background, even the shadows of her garments—everything was suffused with a deep and peculiar blue.’ Another added: ‘It was so striking, for better or worse, that none of the other paintings could catch the eye.'”
For better or worse.
A situation where one couldn’t tell whether to rejoice or despair.
“Some members of the Judge panel defended it as ‘a manifestation of unprecedented genius,’ but the majority vehemently opposed it as ‘an insult to the Crown and an act of artistic reaction.’ After heated debate, the work was excluded from final judging for damaging the Competition’s dignity and the Crown’s majesty, resulting in Disqualification.”
“I, I, I—um…… Lord of House of Namoi, sir. That is to say, what I mean is….”
“House of Namoi has emerged as a hot topic in the Capital’s social circles, and all eyes turn toward observing Lord Owen’s next moves.”
“Aaah! My lord! I’m sorry! I was wrong! If only you’ll spare me, I—”
Owen paid no attention whatsoever to Matthew, who clasped his hands together in desperate supplication, and turned instead to Pesha.
“Is this what you intended?”
Pesha smiled broadly, hand resting on her hip.
“Yes! I was surprised Matthew did even better than I’d expected, but this is exactly the situation I wanted. Everyone’s attention and focus is on the Ultramarine, after all.”
“Even so, I question whether painters will accept the pigment without reservation, given that it’s become the cause of Disqualification.”
“Don’t worry about that. The buyers I’m targeting aren’t painters, after all.”
Pesha caught Owen’s puzzled frown and shrugged.
“I told you before—I’ll make Ultramarine the most expensive Pigment on the continent. And whose purse will that high price come from?”

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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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