If I was Going to Regret It Anyway

He looked again, wondering if he had made a mistake, but it was undoubtedly him. Eleanor’s painting was that realistic. It was as delicate and intricate as a portrait artist who specializes in portraits.

 

It was not uncommon for noble women to learn music or art as a part of their education. So, the fact that Eleanor could paint was not particularly shocking.

 

However, even from a glance through the window, Eleanor’s painting skills surpassed simple education or hobby. He had never imagined that she could paint so well.

 

Eleanor was deeply engrossed in her painting. She was so focused that she didn’t notice Dariel standing right next to her, visible with just a turn of her head.

 

Eleanor frowned slightly at the part she had just painted, as if she didn’t like it, and then added a fine line with a thin brush. She was so close to the canvas that it seemed like she might touch it. She then pulled her head back, looked at her painting from a distance, and soon a fresh smile bloomed on Eleanor’s face.

 

“……”

 

For some reason, he felt suffocated. Daryl unconsciously stuck his finger into his shirt collar and pulled it.

 

Eleanor, who was painting Daryl, looked very happy and pleased. It was a face he had never seen before. She looked like a girl in love. That was the look in Eleanor’s eyes as she looked at Daryl in the painting. It was the look of someone dealing with something infinitely precious, cherished, and lovely.

 

Daryl, who had been unable to take his eyes off Eleanor for a while, suddenly came to his senses and retreated from that place. And he returned to the mansion by that road.

 

He felt confused. There was an inexplicable feeling of suffocation stuck in his chest that wouldn’t go away.

 

He was sure she disliked him. It was undoubtedly so.

 

Although she treated him with a bright smile in front of the servants, there was no way he wouldn’t know that it wasn’t Eleanor’s true feelings. All the expressions, looks, and words she had shown to Daryl so far consistently revealed her negative feelings towards him.

 

And that was natural. From the beginning, Daryl had never treated her kindly either. As he had clearly told her, from the moment Eleanor was born until now, she had always been Daryl’s enemy and obstacle.

 

But why?

 

No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t understand.

 

****

 

By the time Eleanor returned to the mansion, the sunset had already set. She hadn’t planned to stay in the library this late. The problem was that she got more engrossed than usual as the painting was nearing completion.

 

It had been quite a while since she had painted a portrait. When she was young, she had painted countless times using her mother or Peggy as models, but this was the first time she had seriously painted.

 

Usually, she only painted landscapes, and even when she painted people, she only captured their natural appearance as an extension of the landscape. She had never made a specific individual the subject of her painting.

 

Even when she was sketching Daryl in a trance after seeing him asleep in the early morning, she didn’t think it would become such a serious painting.

 

Initially, Eleanor disliked Daryl. There had never been anyone in her life who made her feel so uncomfortable and troubled. It was strange to think of painting a picture of such a person as a model. What was even funnier was the fact that she was completely engrossed in the work.

 

While painting, she realized that she had very complex emotions towards him. The Daryl in the painting was surprisingly warm, cold as expected, arrogant as she knew, and perhaps even affectionate. He looked so lofty as if he owned the world, but at some moments, he looked terribly lonely.

 

Were all these faces something Eleanor found in Daryl? Or was it her wishful thinking?

 

Sometimes, when she looked at the painting she had painted for a long time, she realized that she was smiling at him without knowing it. And the next moment, the gap with the harsh reality inevitably hit her.

 

‘Even if I finish it, I probably won’t show it to anyone.’

 

She couldn’t show a painting full of such contradictory and raw emotions to anyone else.

 

She thought she would burn it when she finished it. After that, there probably wouldn’t be any more occasions to paint Daryl.

 

Not long after she returned to her room, Emily came in.

 

“His Lordship wishes to see you.”

 

“…Daryl?”

 

“Yes.”

 

She felt surprised and anxious at the same time. Eleanor changed her clothes and went to the Lilac Room. It was her husband’s room, but this was the first time she had been inside.

 

Daryl was sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed. Perhaps it was because she had been facing him in the painting all this time. Seeing the real Daryl felt strange.

 

“Where have you been?”

 

“…I was in the library. Were you looking for me?”

 

She knew that Daryl was at the mansion during the day. But even on such days, he had never sought her out, and they had always spent their time separately. So she thought it would be the same today.

 

“What were you doing in the library?”

 

“Huh? I was…reading a book.”

 

“Is that all?”

 

“……”

 

Eleanor hesitated to answer. She didn’t know why he was asking these questions.

 

Did he hear from Herbert that she was painting? Or, since Herbert had said he would order a painting through Philip, it wouldn’t be strange if that fact had reached Daryl’s ears.

 

“…I also did some painting.”

 

“What kind of painting?”

 

“Just… various things. I paint what I see or what comes to mind, so it’s different every time.”

 

Daryl was looking at Eleanor with his head tilted slightly. His face was completely expressionless. She felt inexplicably anxious because she couldn’t understand his intentions.

 

“…Did you call me to ask about that?”

 

Instead of answering, Daryl picked up a letter from the table.

 

“An invitation to a banquet at the palace has arrived. The Empress wishes you to attend.”

 

Eleanor took the letter that Daryl handed her and read it. The letter was stamped with the signature of the Empress and the seal of the royal family.

 

“Prepare well as it’s next Wednesday. If you need anything, talk to Herbert or Philip.”

 

“Yes. I understand.”

 

It was the first time she was going out since the wedding. This was the first invitation she had received, but there must have been others.

 

Eleanor knew that Daryl was intentionally not sending her to social gatherings. His words to ‘live as if you are dead for a year’, and the fact that he didn’t introduce her to anyone on their wedding day, were all expressions of his will not to acknowledge her as his wife.

 

But even Daryl couldn’t refuse an invitation from the Empress. Eleanor swallowed her bitter feelings and put the invitation back on the table.

 

Daryl got up from the sofa and walked to the desk at the back. Eleanor took this as a sign that he was done with her and left the room.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“…Do you have anything else to say?”

 

Daryl lit a cigar. Soon, the smoke he exhaled scattered towards the ceiling.

 

“No.”

 

“Then can I go?”

 

“Why are you in such a hurry? You don’t have anything to do.”

 

“I don’t see any reason to stay here any longer.”

 

“You’re getting cheeky.”

 

“……”

 

Eleanor swallowed the words that came to her mind.

 

“We’re a couple. It’s not strange to have a chat once in a while.”

 

“…”

 

Eleanor looked at Daryl with a slightly furrowed brow. She looked incredulous.

 

‘…No matter how I look at it, it seems like she dislikes me.’

 

Dariel thought, furrowing his brow.

 

Then what was that painting during the day? Could it be that the person in that painting wasn’t him?

 

That couldn’t be. The color of the hair, the color of the eyes, the features of the face, it was undoubtedly Daryl himself. If the description was a bit more vague, there might have been room for different interpretations. But Eleanor’s style of painting was so detailed that it seemed to directly transfer the actual person onto the canvas.

 

But the look in Eleanor’s eyes when she was looking at Daryl in the painting and the look in her eyes when she was looking at him now had a temperature difference as great as summer and winter.

 

Should he ask outright? If he did, she might make a fuss, asking how he knew about it, if he had been spying on her. He didn’t want to invite such a tiresome situation.

 

“Do you like painting?”

 

“…Looking at it? Or painting it?”

 

“Both.”

 

“Yes, I liked it.”

 

She reluctantly answered. She was still standing at the door, ready to leave the room as soon as she got permission.

 

Suddenly, he felt annoyed. What kind of ridiculous thing was this? Daryl clicked his tongue and bit his cigar.

 

“…That’s enough. You can go now.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Eleanor, as if she had been waiting for those words, slightly bent her knees in a bow and left the room. Her back, which looked like she had no regrets about leaving, was quite annoying.

 

If that’s the case, why did she paint such a picture and make him worry?

 

Daryl roughly rubbed the unsmoked cigar and put it out.