Chapter 66
Laszlo, unable to accompany them due to imperial palace matters, entrusted Edel with a checkbook bearing his signature and the family head’s seal and said:
“I’m just as clueless about paintings, so if I come along, it’ll only embarrass me. Teach Rinia how to appreciate art. I don’t care how much money you spend.”
To some, his words might have sounded bold and impressive, but not to Edel.
‘Count Chrissus doesn’t seem extravagant; he just doesn’t value money that much. A family head shouldn’t act that way.’
If it were just his household alone, who would care how he lived?
But he was also responsible for his sister Rinia’s livelihood and the well-being of numerous staff members. Beyond that, he was someone who needed to bolster the emperor’s power.
Thus, he had to utilize the amassed wealth “properly,” and Edel decided to devote herself entirely to assisting him with that.
“…The exhibition opens tomorrow. Typically, you’d be able to purchase works starting then, but since you have a recommendation from Grand Duchess Celestine, I’ll make an exception and allow you to secure up to five pieces today. I hope you understand the limit.”
The gallery owner spoke as if granting them a tremendous favor, snapping Edel back to the present.
Otis Gallery held two exhibitions annually to showcase new artists. The owner’s keen eye ensured that one or more of these artists always rose to prominence.
Securing rights to purchase works from such an exhibition was an enormous privilege.
“Thank you. I’ll let you know once I’ve made my selections.”
“Take your time and enjoy.”
The gallery owner left Edel and Rinia alone in the exhibition hall.
As the space fell silent, Rinia glanced around the room and sighed, murmuring,
“I have no idea what makes a painting good. They all look the same to me. Though, I can tell those over there are poorly drawn. Who’d hang something like that and call it art?”
To Rinia, the paintings seemed no different from those at home. Some pieces were utterly incomprehensible.
However, Edel, silently examining the gallery, eventually placed ribbons on five paintings after much deliberation.
“You’re buying those paintings?”
“Yes.”
“Why…?”
Rinia’s eyes widened in disbelief. Among the chosen pieces was one she had derided as poorly drawn.
“The trend of celebrating conquests or depicting war heroes is fading, but considering Count Chrissus is a knight, one such piece would be fitting for the lobby.”
“Oh, I get that.”
“The pastoral painting seems perfect for your room, so I chose that. The two still lifes are meant for the drawing room and dining area.”
“Okay, that makes sense. But that one…?”
Rinia pointed to a painting that seemed more abstract than the others. It had a dazzling light but looked as if paint had been carelessly splattered.
But Edel had spent the longest time standing before it.
“I’ve been interested in this artist for a while, but this style is new to me. Still, it’s oddly captivating.”
Perhaps she was gambling with someone else’s money. What Edel found beautiful might invite criticism from others.
Yet, she couldn’t walk away from it.
‘It would look perfect in Count Chrissus’s room. It just feels like him.’
Edel thought of the intense energy she felt every time she faced Laszlo.
The painting Edel chose also embodied a radiant celebration of light, much like Laszlo himself. Sunlight fractured and scattered across the world, rippling emerald and navy hues over the water’s surface. At the harbor, ships bound for the unknown awaited their departure, facing the sun.
To Edel, the painting resembled Laszlo.
It radiated an energy that could seize vitality, an aura no one could refuse, a quiet hope inadvertently stirred, and above all, light.
“Sooner or later, even the nobility will begin to recognize his true worth.”
Edel envisioned Laszlo’s rising status, her thoughts overlapping his image with the painting’s brilliance.
Yet, for some reason, an emptiness gnawed at her—a feeling akin to a lone blade of grass left in the shadows, untouched by sunlight.
“I must be getting unnecessarily sentimental.”
Edel shook her head, snapping out of it, and went to find the gallery owner. She needed to pay for the paintings and quickly move on to the next gallery.
“Mother, isn’t that… Edel?”
William Canyon, walking through the gallery district with his mother, tugged her sleeve and pointed somewhere.
Ludmilla, annoyed from having sold a painting that was sure to rise in value sooner than expected, furrowed her brows as she followed her son’s gaze. Her eyes widened.
“Edel?”
“Right? I’m not mistaken, am I?”
William kept questioning what he saw, unable to believe it.
Edel, who had been handed over to Laszlo as a spoil of war, was supposed to be someone they would never encounter again. Yet here she was, strolling casually in broad daylight through the noble gallery district. And to make it even stranger, Rinia Chrissus was walking beside her.
“Could the rumors be true?”
“You mean the one about her being a maid at that house?”
“Yes. But she doesn’t exactly look like a maid…”
Ludmilla caught on to what her son meant. Even to her, Edel appeared to hold a certain dignity.
‘Her attire is proper, her expression calm… and she’s chatting easily with that mercenary’s sister.’
Rinia and Edel seemed to get along well, their conversation giving the impression of equals. Edel appeared to be explaining things to Rinia, who nodded intently and occasionally asked questions.
Ludmilla subtly stepped back and quietly observed Edel.
“I should inform your father.”
“I think so, too.”
As soon as Edel disappeared from view, the two rushed to their carriage and returned to relay the news to Count Canyon.
Initially irritated at the mere mention of Edel’s name, the count’s expression shifted as he learned she seemed close to Rinia and dressed well.
“So, she was visiting galleries with that mercenary’s sister?”
“Yes. She seemed to be explaining something to her, though we were too far to hear.”
“Hah! Likely teaching some common-born girl how to look at paintings.”
The count nodded slowly, falling into thought.
To them, Edel was a discarded card—a piece no longer in play, never to be seen or considered again.
Yet there she was, walking confidently under the bright sun.
“Does that mean she still holds some value?”
His eyes narrowed.
Edel had always been raised solely for her “value.” If she proved useless, she was discarded; if she held value, she was exploited. That was simply how it was.
It was why they had taken her in and raised her in the first place.
“If there’s still value to extract, I must do so. Think of all the money invested in her!”
He had assumed he’d recoup his investment by marrying her off to the Duke of Lancaster, only for the plan to fail spectacularly.
He’d written it off as a total loss—until now, when he heard a glimmer of potential.
“Ludmilla.”
“Yes, dear?”
“How much did we give that family when we took in Edel and Lin?”
Ludmilla frowned, trying to recall, but the hefty sum had left a lasting impression.
“We paid 100,000 Lingtons for Edel and 80,000 for Lin.”
When Ludmilla had been told she couldn’t bear more children after two sons, the count decided to purchase distant relatives’ children. Those impoverished commoners had struggled to care for their own offspring, and the count needed daughters to forge advantageous marital alliances.
For Count Canyon, the adoption was a calculated transaction—nothing more, nothing less.
“I despise anything that fails to justify its cost. If I’ve spent money, it should yield more in return.”
“Quite right. Especially since the effort put into Edel cannot be measured in money alone.”
“Exactly! Even her birth parents wouldn’t have raised her with such care. William.”
At his father’s call, William looked up.
He was the heir, the cherished apple of the count’s eye.
“Assign someone to watch Edel. Be discreet so that mercenary’s guild doesn’t catch wind.”
“Yes, Father. Understood.”
The count’s eyes gleamed.
Though not yet certain, his instincts told him Edel warranted scrutiny.
“Will you head straight home, sir?”
“Is there more that needs confirming?”
“No, sir, nothing of the sort…”
“Then see you tomorrow.”
Laszlo nodded to the guard and made his way directly to the stables.
Recently, he had been riding to and from the imperial palace. At Edel’s suggestion, he had sold the old carriage and ordered a new one, but its arrival had been delayed, so he relied on horseback for the time being.
Behind him, the guards exchanged whispers.
“Why does he seem so eager to rush home these days? Do you think he’s hiding treasure there?”
“Who knows? Maybe he’s off to see a lover.”
His unusually cheerful demeanor when leaving the palace had everyone guessing.
