ISTL CHAPTER 39

Max watched Arthur Giverny leave the tent, reassuring Anaïs as if telling her not to worry. His expression was one of sheer bewilderment.
“You act like you think I’d harm you or something,” he said.
“Oh, come on. As if,” Anaïs shrugged, brushing it off lightly as she waited for his next words. However, despite seeming like he had plenty to say, Max clamped his mouth shut.
Now that they were alone, just as he had wanted, Max remained silent.
“Well? Go ahead and talk. You came because of Lady Bastian, right? You wanted this to be kept secret, didn’t you?”
“…Yeah. What else would I need to talk to you about?”
Max placed a hand on his hip and leaned to one side.
“So, what exactly are you doing here instead of taking care of your actual responsibilities? And with some loafer, no less.”
His questioning tone caught Anaïs off guard.
“Oh my, were you really so desperate that you couldn’t even wait until my leave was over?”
“What? Leave?”
“You didn’t know? I told the Queen Dowager that I’d be taking a month off.”
“…What? When?”
Anaïs grinned, lifting the corners of her mouth playfully.
“Right after watching that play… around the same time that delightful article was published.”
She held up both hands, bending and unbending her index and middle fingers in a teasing gesture.
“Looks like Her Majesty forgot to inform you, Prince. I should have told you myself—sorry about that. If I’d known you’d be waiting so anxiously…”
“Forget it,” Max cut her off quickly.
“Why the leave?”
“Oh, that…”
Anaïs spread her arms dramatically.
“Ta-da! Andersonbrienne’s very first atelier!”
Her voice trembled slightly with excitement as she spoke, her face flushed with enthusiasm.
“It’s a space I’m opening for painters who don’t have the right environment to work in. I’ve been so busy setting this place up.”
Max slowly turned on the spot, taking in the white-painted walls, the easels, and the neatly arranged paints.
And yet… what did any of this have to do with that loafer?
As he wandered through the atelier, Max came to a stop in front of a canvas. It displayed a rough outline of a human figure.
“How did you meet him? Don’t tell me it was just a chance encounter at the park?”
“Oh, you mean Mr. Giverny? There’s a bit of a story behind that. You see, what happened was…”
Max frowned, recalling the way Arthur had slowly scanned Anaïs with his gaze. The man Camille had mentioned was probably this painter, Arthur.
Anaïs chattered on like someone who hadn’t spoken in three days. He had asked, but he wasn’t particularly interested in hearing the answer.
A ridiculous coincidence, her recognizing his potential, the paintings she had purchased turning out to be his, and so on and so forth…
“So, you set this place up. With that loafer— I mean, Arthur or whatever his name is?”
They had spent all that time together…?
“Yes! What do you think, Your Highness? It’s my first time putting something like this together, so it’s far from perfect, but I really like it.”
Max let out a short sigh.
“Brienne. Haven’t I warned you before?”
“…?”
“How can you be so quick to smile at everyone?”
“Huh?”
Anaïs was caught off guard by Max’s sudden shift in attitude.
“You don’t even know what kind of man he is, yet you let him stay close to you?”
“Mr. Giverny isn’t a bad person, Your Highness.”
“And how would you know? You don’t even know what’s happening around you.”
His words sounded outright dismissive, which irritated her. Arthur was someone she considered a friend. It wasn’t just about Max speaking carelessly—something about his tone, as if blaming her, rubbed her the wrong way.
“And how do you know, then? He was my guest. How can you be so rude?”
“What?”
“Don’t judge Mr. Giverny when you haven’t even met him properly.”
“Do I have to meet him to know?”
“Then how do you know anything at all? Judging someone without understanding them—that’s arrogance, Your Highness. And it’s reckless.”
Max was momentarily speechless.
“Arrogance? Reckless?”
“Yes.”
“Anaïs. Do you even realize who you’re talking to right now?”
“…”
“This is exactly why shady loafers keep flocking to you. What’s the point of hiding behind a mask and giving advice to others if you yourself are so naive?”
A brief silence followed.
Anaïs’s previously dazed expression darkened.
“That… was too much.”
Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the wounded look on her face made Max pause. Normally, no matter how much he teased her, she never reacted like this. Seeing her brows droop and her shoulders slump made his head pound.
Had he gone too far?
Why am I even acting like this?
He felt a sudden surge of frustration—at her, for trusting people too easily, and at himself, for lashing out like this. But still… this wasn’t the way to handle it.