107. Epilogue (2)

Hearing Lucia’s delighted response, Owen chuckled softly and quipped, “I might feel a little jealous.”

Lucia blinked, genuinely surprised. Owen rarely displayed emotions like jealousy or possessiveness.

Covering her mouth with her hand, she teased, “…Owen, you get jealous too?”

“Do you dislike it?”

“Not at all. I love it. Very much,” she said with a radiant smile, pulling him into a warm embrace.

Then, she planted a light kiss on his lips and murmured, “Since everyone thinks we’ve gone to the bedroom already… should we actually go?”

Her bold suggestion caused Owen to let out a low breath. He wasn’t strong enough to resist her teasing. Lucia likely knew this all too well—Owen had always been weak when it came to her, just as she was when it came to him.

“…Let’s do that.”

Without hesitation, Owen scooped her up in his arms and carried her up the stairs to their bedroom.

As expected, their sudden disappearance sparked all kinds of rumors in the banquet hall. Most centered on how close and affectionate the newlyweds were, with some playful jabs mixed in.

The next day, Owen heard about the gossip and felt embarrassed, but he couldn’t do much about it. After all, it wasn’t entirely untrue, and even if he could turn back time, he knew he would do the same.

—

“Owen.”

The morning after the wedding, as they leisurely shared breakfast together, Lucia spoke up.

“I’m officially Lucia Verdun now.”

Her face lit up with a bright smile, radiating genuine happiness.

Seeing her joy, Owen couldn’t help but smile as well.

“That’s right. We share the same name now.”

“Mm-hm. I won’t be leaving this estate anymore. I’ll spend every day here and see you every day.”

Her excitement was so endearing that Owen’s smile grew wider.

“And I’ll get to be with you every day as well,” he replied.

“Do you like that too?”

“Of course. I love you, after all.”

As always, Owen confessed his love with ease.

Lucia, now accustomed to his tender words, laughed softly.

Though it was only their first day as a married couple, they both felt it. The days ahead would be filled with happiness unlike anything they had experienced before.

—

It took three weeks for Emily Watson to deliver the finished wedding portraits.

Considering she lived in the southern regions, it seemed she had spent about a week traveling and two weeks painting.

For a renowned artist like Emily, it was unusual to complete a piece so quickly, and Owen was a bit surprised.

When he asked about it, Emily began with a candid explanation.

“To be honest, I don’t particularly enjoy painting portraits,” she admitted.

Curious, Owen prompted her to elaborate.

“I only do it because it pays well. I might be a noble myself, but you know how high-ranking nobles can be—they treat you like it’s their right to be demanding.”

Shaking her head, she sighed, as if recalling unpleasant experiences.

“Not that you two were like that. But after dealing with so many entitled clients, it does wear on you. I’m not exactly greedy, but I can’t turn down the money. So I keep doing portraits, even though my passion lies elsewhere.”

Emily’s true specialty was landscapes, particularly watercolor depictions of scenery. While her landscapes often included people, her focus was on capturing the mood of the environment.

Despite this, nobles loved her distinctive style and use of color, leading to numerous portrait commissions.

“Thanks to advancements in magic, watercolor paintings can now be preserved as long as oil paintings, so I suppose that’s part of the reason I get so many requests,” she said with a shrug.

Then, she glanced away awkwardly and added, “But honestly, you two made it enjoyable. Drawing beautiful people is always fun. Every time I looked at the recording crystal, it felt like I was discovering something new. I spent almost every day working on your portraits.”

Her exaggerated tone made Owen pause, unsure how to respond, but Lucia grinned brightly, clearly amused.

“Thank you for seeing us in such a positive light, Viscount Watson. It’s an honor,” she said gracefully.

“Oh, it’s not flattery—it’s just the truth. I hope the portraits meet your expectations,” Emily replied, gesturing to the finished works.

The watercolor portraits exuded warmth and beauty, capturing Owen and Lucia’s expressions with stunning realism.

“I absolutely love it,” Lucia said, admiring the artwork. “I’ve always been a fan of your work, Viscount Watson.”

“I’ve heard you have impeccable taste, Your Grace. Hearing such praise is truly an honor,” Emily replied with a slight bow.

“I’m flattered you feel that way. This is a real treasure for us.”

Owen, who had been silently observing the exchange, finally lowered his gaze to the paintings.

One depicted Lucia in her wedding dress, her expression radiant and full of life. The other showed them together, Owen in his formal attire, with their emotions captured perfectly.

The paintings seemed to breathe with the warmth of the day, vividly recalling the joy and love they had shared.

Owen finally understood why Lucia loved Emily’s art so much. Her paintings conveyed emotions—gentle, warm feelings that resonated deeply.

“Please hold an exhibition sometime. I’d love to visit,” Lucia said with a smile.

“I’d be honored if you did. Until then, I hope you enjoy these,” Emily replied with a grateful nod before taking her leave.

After she was gone, Owen turned to Lucia, who was still admiring the portraits.

“They’re wonderful,” she murmured.

“They truly are,” Owen agreed, his voice soft.

Owen didn’t need to concern himself with the payment for the portraits, as his butler had already settled the matter.

After Emily left, Owen and Lucia deliberated on where to display the paintings.

Should they hang them on the hallway walls near the entrance or keep them on the fifth floor, where they spent most of their time?

“What if we place them in our offices?” Lucia suggested.

“We can hang your portrait in my office and mine in yours. What do you think?”

Lucia enjoyed her own portrait, but Owen was indifferent about his. Given his lack of interest in selfies back in Korea, it wasn’t surprising he felt the same about portraits.

On the other hand, Owen adored Lucia’s portrait, so her suggestion made sense. Both of them would get to enjoy seeing the other’s likeness.

“That’s a good idea,” Owen agreed with a nod.

They instructed the servants to hang the portraits in their respective offices. The chosen spots were on the walls near their desks, in places easily visible while they worked.

Logan briefly gave Owen a look that screamed resignation, but Owen paid no mind.

“What about the larger one of us together?”

With the individual portraits placed, the only painting left was the large one depicting them as a couple.

Lucia decided on its location. “Let’s put it on the stairwell wall, where it’s easy to see while going up the stairs.”

It was a prominent location, large enough to accommodate the oversized canvas and positioned where it would catch the eye as soon as someone entered the estate.

“That sounds perfect,” Owen replied.

The servants brought a ladder to hang the large painting on the stairwell wall.

The painting of the two of them sitting together radiated harmony and connection. Lucia’s vibrant elegance contrasted beautifully with Owen’s calm composure, making them look like the perfect pair.

Even though their individual personalities were so distinct, their shared expressions of happiness in the painting brought everything together seamlessly.

“It’s beautiful,” Lucia said, gazing up at the painting from the stairs.

“I really love it,” she added, brushing her fingers over the canvas, enchanted by the smooth texture beneath her touch.

“Let’s go see how the ones in our offices look,” she suggested.

Though they had instructed the servants to place the portraits, they hadn’t yet seen the results. Hand in hand, they headed to the fifth floor.

Their offices were directly across from each other. The first they entered was Lucia’s.

As the lady of the house, Lucia had an extensive workload, especially given the size and influence of the Verdun duchy. Her desk was often buried under piles of documents—a fact she playfully referred to as the “price of becoming Verdun.”

As requested, Owen’s portrait was hung on the wall to the right of her desk.

The painting depicted him seated gracefully, his posture impeccable but his expression stoic.

While the couple’s painting on the stairwell showed him smiling softly, this one captured his more reserved and serious demeanor.

“At one point, this was the only expression you showed me,” Lucia mused, looking up at the portrait and recalling how distant Owen had seemed in the past.

It had been just over a year ago, yet it felt like a lifetime. The warm and tender side of Owen she had come to know had completely erased the cold and distant image of him.

“Well, I doubt I’ll ever see that side of you again. Still, it’s beautiful, and I like it,” she said with a smile.

In Lucia’s eyes, Owen was flawless—an embodiment of perfection wrapped in elegance.

“Let’s head to your office.”

After spending a while admiring the portrait, Lucia reached out her hand, and Owen took it. Together, they walked across the hall to his office.

Owen’s office was just as familiar, and his gaze immediately turned to the left wall, where Lucia’s portrait was hung.

“You’re smiling in this one,” he noted, his eyes lingering on the vibrant expression captured in the painting.

The portrait depicted Lucia with a bold, dazzling smile, the kind she often wore at social gatherings. Her crimson lips and radiant expression exuded confidence and charm.

“Lucia,” Owen said softly, still gazing at the painting.

Lucia, standing beside him, turned her red eyes toward his face.

“Your expression here is different from the one in the stairwell painting. Do you know that?”

“…Yes,” she admitted with a nod.

Once, she might not have noticed. Subtle shifts in her own expressions and emotions had been lost on her.

But now, she understood.

The smile in her portrait was carefully crafted—a mask designed to elicit trust, admiration, and perhaps vulnerability from others.

In contrast, the smile in the stairwell painting was genuine—full of joy and warmth from being with Owen.

“Because when I’m with you, I’m happy,” she said simply.

Lucia still loved social gatherings—the lively conversations, the attention, and the vibrant atmosphere were all things she enjoyed.

But her true sense of peace came from being with Owen.

Social events, beautiful things, and indulgences brought her happiness, but Owen brought her solace. He was her companion, her home, and her family.

“And I feel the same,” Owen replied.

For Owen, Lucia was more than a partner; she was his sanctuary, his friend, and his love.

Though their personalities, interests, and preferences often diverged, they cherished each other deeply.

Perhaps it was because they had found each other at their most vulnerable moments and had become indispensable to one another.

“Lucia.”

Owen stepped closer to her, tilting his head slightly as he kissed her gently.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Lucia smiled and kissed him back.

“I love you too, Owen.”

Sunlight streamed warmly through the windows, and the roses in the garden below bloomed in full splendor.

Under the gentle light, they felt the promise of endless days together, filled with love and happiness.

 

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