Meura, who emptied the cake cleanly, immediately recited a desperate apology. For Asha, it was a crazy change of attitude, and at the same time, there were lines that reminded her of the praise letters she received.
“Oh, no… So you thought I deceived you in order to get a portrait from you, Meura?”
Meura nodded, her expression filled with a hint of something difficult for Asha to understand.
“But in the letter, you didn’t even reveal your name. How could I know who you were and try to trick you for a painting?”
“I thought that with a little research, it would be easy to find out… That’s why I had those suspicions…”
“Oh…”
Following that, Meura continued to apologize politely for her misunderstanding and impolite attitude.
“I made judgments based on prejudices, just by looking at your status and appearance. I sincerely apologize, Your Highness.”
“No… That…”
Asha’s response was not anger or laughter, but a somewhat ambiguous attitude. Meura sensed something and observed Asha carefully.
Asha decided to just lightly brush it off and smiled. To think that Meura would suspect that the creator of the cake that Asha had made for no reason, would deceive her to pressure her for a painting.
Someone must have desired her painting intently.
“Hmm, well. It’s a good thing for an artist to be confident…”
“Pfft.”
And, at the same time, the young man beside them, Ruth, spat out the tea he was drinking. He turned red and hurriedly apologized, coughing intensely.
“Cough, cough, I’m truly sorry, cough, cough!”
“It’s… It’s okay if you leave and cough comfortably and come back.”
Asha waved her hand, and Ruth hurriedly dashed out to the balcony. Meura looked extremely embarrassed.
“Your… Your Highness’s words are all correct. It was my arrogance.”
“No, it’s not arrogance. I was just taken aback by the misunderstanding that I never expected. When I think about it, I can see how the misunderstanding could have arisen.”
The cake she ate was so touching that she wanted to draw a picture as well, and to think that the actual creator of the cake was a member of the royal family, a ten-year-old girl at that.
She even considered the possibility that someone had lied in the middle.
And even though it was a hasty misunderstanding, if Meura’s rude attitude toward the princess was for the sake of the true cake maker who she thought was oppressed, it actually made her more likable.
“So, will you paint my portrait?”
“I would love to. I… I mean, if you want me to.”
Meura’s sharp attitude softened. Asha smiled brightly and nodded her head. And with that expression, Meura let out a sigh, looking even more embarrassed, and spoke.
“And once again, I truly… apologize. My name is not Meura, it’s Mura. I thought Your Highness was pretending not to know, so I gave a false name.”
“Mura?”
“Yes. My name is Mura, Mura Aylau.”
Asha blinked.
‘Mura Aylau?’
Where had she heard that before? It felt familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it…
“Oh! This teapot!”
Asha held her palm out and pointed to the teapot currently sitting on the tea table. The teapot that Mura Aylau had made, one of only thirteen sets in the world.
“Ahem, well… Yes, there’s one thing I made here.”
“So that’s why you were staring so intently?”
Mura’s cheeks turned red. She fanned herself in embarrassment.
“Lady Meura, no, Mura…”
“Just call me comfortably. No, I think it would be better if you call me Meura.”
Mura extended her hand with a slightly awkward smile and let out another sigh, as if hoping to turn back time. Just then, Ruth returned with his face flushed and tears in his eyes. It seemed like his intense coughing fit had subsided.
“Your Highness, may I proceed with the portrait?”
“Yeah, sure. What do I need to do? Should I just sit still?”
“You can just stay comfortable. I remember how you look, so there’s no need for you to pose.”
Realizing that staying still would only make her embarrassment worse, Mura moved quickly. Asha even found this situation interesting now, but she no longer teased Mura.
“Can I see the sketch?”
“There’s nothing special about it, but… of course.”
Mura cleared her throat and showed Asha the canvas she had placed on the easel. As soon as Asha saw the canvas, she understood why Mura had misunderstood. On the canvas was a vividly drawn image of a girl glancing slightly over her shoulder, as if coming out of the painting. The pencil lines were perfectly laid out, without a single strand out of place. It looked as if Mura had copied a completed portrait of Asha underneath and sketched it flawlessly. Despite knowing nothing about art, even Asha could see that this sketch was a work of art in itself.
“I actually look… prettier than I thought.”
“I haven’t captured your perfect likeness yet. It will improve when I add color.”
As Asha handed the canvas back to Mura, she couldn’t help but be amazed. Mura, on the other hand, slightly embarrassed, mixed laughter with a cough.
“How long will it take to complete?”
“It will take about two weeks.”
Mura quickly dipped her brush into various colors on the palette that Ruth had opened and marked the canvas. Although Asha didn’t understand the process, she couldn’t help but be in awe, and then she cautiously spoke up.
“Excuse me, Lady Meura.”
“What?”
Mura, who was changing brushes and touching different colors, tilted her head.
“It’s about a portrait. Would it be possible for you to draw one more? I’ll compensate you.”
“If it’s Your Highness’s portrait, and considering my impoliteness today… I can do it anytime.”
“Oh, no. That’s not it. It’s almost my grandfather’s birthday, and I wasn’t sure what to give him. But your artwork, Lady Meura, is truly remarkable, even to me. So, if possible, I was wondering if I could commission a portrait of my grandfather.”
“Your grandfather? If it’s your grandfather…”
Mura was about to answer readily, but Ruth, who was standing with the palette, let out a strange sound with a cough.
“Ahem, His Maje… cough.”
“Hmm?”
“…His Majes… cough.”
“…?”
After Ruth coughed a few more times with a fake sound, Mura finally understood what he was trying to say – ‘His Imperial Majesty!’ – and fell silent.
Asha smiled awkwardly.
“…If it’s Your Highness’s grandfather.”
“Yes, that’s right. He’s over there.”
Asha pointed with her fingertips in the direction of Ashtad Palace. Mura pressed her gray hairline, which was scattered like a mountain peak, with the tip of her brush, and spoke with a slightly pale voice.
“Your Highness may not know this, but there was a time when I refused the emperor’s request for a portrait.”
“Oh, really? Why?”
“I thought my skills were lacking and I wanted to explore.”
Mura seemed to be really bad at lying. The part where she said, ‘I thought my skills were lacking,’ felt incredibly awkward.
“But… since it’s Your Highness’s request, and my skills have improved somewhat over the years…”
“I will definitely show my gratitude!”
Asha said, standing up and retrieving the lace pouch she had left on the opposite countertop.
“This is the liquor I brewed myself. After making it, I realized I can’t drink it, so I’ve been sharing it with people around me, and I’ll give some to you, Lady Meura.”
“I appreciate the gesture, since it’s something Your Highness has made, I will gladly accept it.”
“Oh, but how should I go about getting a portrait of my grandfather? Should I secretly bring you over?”
“Don’t worry about that. I saw him before I ran away.”
Wasn’t that a few years ago? Asha tilted her head, but she didn’t ask any more because Mura seemed confident.
“I will come to visit again once the painting is complete. Including His Majesty’s portrait.”
“Yes, I’ll be waiting. Today… was fun.”
Asha chuckled, and as Mura was about to say goodbye, she glanced at a small painting placed nearby and tilted her head.
“May I see what that painting is?”
“Oh! This one. It’s the packaging design I made for something I want to sell this time. The contracted artist drew the mock-up quickly.”
“…”
It was a paper covered in bright and distinct colors like yellow and pink, with drawings of colorful cakes, cookies, and a frame for the product name. Mura looked at the painting with a very serious expression for a long time.
“This must be the person who painted the store’s sign board.”
“Oh? That’s amazing. How did you know? I guess you can see that, too.”
Mura grinned.
“In the eyes of an artist, all they see is the painting. And someone’s incredible talent. Personally, I would love to meet them.”
“I was curious too. The signboard was beautiful, right? Then shall we talk about it next time Lady Meura comes?”
“If that’s possible, it would bring me great joy as well.”
With those words, Mura respectfully bowed to Asha and turned away.
━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━
After Mura left, Asha had busy and peaceful days. First she sent the wine and lime pie to Karnov, then the wine and the baked snacks to Valery.
After Valery’s food processing factory closed down, there was news that his salon and social gatherings had become less frequent.
Asha also replied to Natalya’s letter and had tea time with Alexei, baking scones for them every day. She made sure to send supplies and clothing separately to Yuriev and Irina, and also called Ivan over for dinner every evening, cooking a stew with plenty of meat.
‘It’s fortunate that I can make everything with my own hands.’
Ivan, who was devoted to his swordsmanship training, was still small and skinny, but he had much more vitality compared to when they first met.
‘Uncle Valery is enjoying the pastries, and Ivan is eating well too. The Noctis Elves’ Prasti is quiet for now…So there are two Prasti left? It was divided into five pieces.’
After a hearty dinner with Ivan, Asha returned to her room and was lying in bed, turning to her side with a sudden thought. On Asha’s pillow, a yellow chick that had grown plump and swayed its beak up and down was perched.
<One piece has already been taken care of.>
‘When?’
<Ten years ago.>
Asha sent a look that signaled her desire to hear more details, but Phoebe deliberately chose not to answer further.
‘If that’s the case, you know the whereabouts of four Prasti? Where is the remaining one?’
<The one remaining whereabouts is… I can’t tell you yet.>
‘You can’t tell me? Not yet? Is there a separate time when you will tell me?’
<…>
Asha tilted her head. Phoebe looked extremely flustered, as if she had been caught off guard, while pretending to hide her swollen belly, moving around.
‘What’s wrong, Phoebe? Are you saying that as a person who has returned, you can’t speak about the future?’
<…!>
It was clear that Asha’s statement was meant as a joke. However, she felt a vision-like illusion as if Phoebe’s yellow feathers were turning into a blue-gray color.
‘…Huh?’
