The streets of Marisen were truly enchanting. Low buildings in warm ivory tones, with ivy climbing up their brick walls, and the charming little roofs covering them, were the first things to catch the eye. Wooden doors and windows were adorned with colorful flowers, fluttering gently as if waving, while the curtains hanging by the windows swayed at their own pace.
The cobblestone path wasn’t as meticulously clean as the roads in the capital, but that only made it feel more natural and cozy.
Above all, the paintings hung around the streets, the music of wandering bands playing from all sides, and the sound of children’s laughter tickled the eyes and ears like a gentle knock.
It was so exotic that I couldn’t believe it was part of the same Levant Empire I had been standing in just moments ago.
“…Wow, Ian. Look at this,”
I couldn’t hide my admiration as I gazed around the street. It felt like I had stepped into another world.
After standing in awe for a while, I finally turned to look at Ian, who had been standing next to me. And then, my eyes met Ian’s, who had been looking not at the streets of Marisen, but at me all along.
“…What’s wrong?”
Why are you staring like that? I stared back at him, puzzled, and he averted his dry, dark brown eyes, speaking in a nonchalant tone.
“I just thought it was strange to see you smiling so innocently, like a child.”
“…What?”
“I mean, it’s unfamiliar to see you smile so widely, and I keep getting drawn to it.”
His words came out of nowhere, catching me off guard and leaving me frozen in place.
“…Uh, Ian? Just wondering, but…”
“Yes, go ahead.”
“Are you, by any chance, trying to flirt with me on purpose?”
When I glanced up at him, his dark brown eyes still looked at me without a hint of disturbance.
“I wouldn’t mind if you fell for me.”
“…I’m not falling for it.”
“That’s unfortunate. I’ll try harder then.”
Before I could say anything else, he adjusted his grip on my hand and gently escorted me, wrapping his arm around my waist.
❖ ❖ ❖
Following Mary Merry’s directions, we left the street and walked up a small path for about ten minutes before the house with the red roof finally came into view atop the hill.
As I approached the door, I straightened my clothes, stretched my shoulders, and asked Ian,
“Do I look okay now?”
“…Probably.”
Why the long silence? I squinted my eyes slightly and then turned around to knock loudly on the door.
“Is anyone there? Come out!”
At the same time, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from inside, and soon the door swung open.
“Who is it?”
A pale man with cream-colored hair and purple eyes scanned us.
A few seconds later, he seemed to grasp the situation from my appearance and flashed a gentle, business-like smile.
“It seems you’ve come to purchase a painting. Please, come in, beautiful lady and gentleman. We’ve been expecting you.”
I was momentarily stunned by his polite, almost refreshing demeanor.
‘…Is this guy really the infamous Brian Merry with the bad temper?’
No matter how I looked at him, he didn’t match the notorious reputation I had heard of. I deliberately acted more arrogantly, shifting my weight onto one leg as I looked him up and down.
“Ahem, so you’re the famous Lion of Marisen Street?”
“Of course. You’ve come to the right place, my lady. I am indeed the Lion you seek.”
Despite my haughty attitude, he continued to smile brightly, stepping aside courteously by the door. He seemed just one step away from rolling out a red carpet.
‘He’s even more polite than our butler Harold.’
Yet, something about him seemed slightly over-the-top, not quite fitting the noble image of a marquess’s son.
“This way, please.”
Clearing my throat, I followed him inside.
The interior was a simple wooden house. As I stepped forward, the scent of old, well-maintained wood filled my nose.
A single-seater sofa covered in embroidered red cloth, a wooden table, and a rug with exotic patterns similar to those on Marisen Street caught my eye. I turned to the side and noticed an easel and canvas neatly set up in a corner where sheer curtains blocked the direct sunlight.
I reached out unconsciously, but Brian Mary swiftly stepped in to stop me with practiced ease.
“Oh no, my lady. This painting is far too dirty for your delicate and beautiful hands to touch. The finished works are over here, please follow me.”
“Ahem. I know, I’m coming.”
With a grin, Brian Merry led Ian and me to the innermost room. When he opened the door, I couldn’t hide my astonishment and let out a gasp.
“Oh my.”
The small room was filled from floor to ceiling with hundreds of intricate paintings. Blinking in disbelief, I asked,
“Did you paint all of these?”
“Yes, I recently acquired some pigments that I’m very fond of, so I’ve been working diligently. After all, an artist must never take a break from creating.”
He smiled confidently, subtly promoting himself with the most gentlemanly smile in the world.
Even without his words, the paintings were clearly exceptional at first glance.
From the perfectly blended colors to the meticulous brushstrokes, there was not a single flaw.
Among the paintings were those featured in the collection Mary Merry had shown me, but seeing them in person felt entirely different.
“Wow… This is incredible.”
“As I expected from the moment you walked in with your dazzling presence, you have an exceptional eye. The painting you’re looking at right now is inspired by the deconstructionism of the great Reynold Dexter…”
As I admired the artwork in awe, Brian began to rattle off the intentions behind the piece like a machine.
Though his explanation was lengthy, it was essentially a PR pitch about how the artistic value of his works was exceptional and that I wouldn’t regret buying them.
‘Alright, it’s time.’
I straightened my back and crossed the room with confident, haughty steps.
“They say you’re the best painter around here, Lion.”
“You flatter me.”
He responded with a polite smile, humbly brushing off the compliment.
I looked him up and down, then tossed my hair back with an air of indifference.
“Fine, I’ll buy all these paintings. Darling, buy everything from here to there.”
At my shameless command, both Ian and Brian’s faces became awkwardly blank at the same time.
“…Wife?”
“All of them?”
Even Brian, who hadn’t expected this, dropped his sales smile and widened his eyes in surprise.
Soon, a faint sense of satisfaction appeared on his face, like he had just caught a big fish.
“I knew I wasn’t wrong about you. From the moment you entered, I could tell you weren’t just anyone. Now, as for the price…”
“But there’s a condition.”
“…A condition?”
Brian Merry, who had resumed his sales pitch, paused at my sharp remark.
I arrogantly lifted my chin and pointed my finger directly at him.
“You, become my personal painting machine.”
“…What?”
It was like telling him to become my comrade, spoken in an overly cocky tone while standing with my weight on one leg. His face was now full of disbelief.
“What… did you just say about painting?”
“Didn’t you hear? I’m buying the paintings and you. Ever heard of a personal painter? I like you.”
I laughed arrogantly.
“I’ll pay you a fortune to paint exclusively for me. For example, my beautiful appearance or maybe me, like a goddess in a new salon dress, spending sweet moments with my darling?”
As I said this while holding my cheek, I noticed Ian quietly turning away, avoiding eye contact with me.
Are you embarrassed by your wife? Well, to be honest, I’m a bit embarrassed myself.
“For three years, you’ll paint only what I ask. No other paintings allowed. In return, I’ll not only give you money, but I’ll arrange for several solo exhibitions so you can gain fame!”
In exchange for painting commissioned works for three years instead of his own, I would guarantee full support. From Brian’s perspective, currently shunned by the nobility due to interference from the Marquis and Marchioness, this was a golden opportunity to make a name for himself quickly. No matter what anyone said, it was a fast and easy path.
As Brian Mary quietly watched me, he calmly raised his hand and ran it through his cream-colored hair.
“Ha.”
‘Ha?’
And then, the moment I saw his face, I felt something was off.
Gone was the polite, businesslike smile, replaced by a cold, mocking laugh.
“Well, well… Who does this little thing think she is…”
He glared at me with sharp, purple eyes.
“Hey.”
He tilted his head slightly.
“You think I’m a joke?”
…Huh?
“Do you want to die?”
♧♧♧
Support my translation for more and faster updates 🐳
