VLA - Chapter 04

VLA - Chapter 04

Violet Love Affair

As expected, it was rude. Her uncle, who had been smiling the whole time, frowned his eyebrows and showed an uncomfortable look.

"Be dignified. What did I tell you before you got into the carriage?"

As his father's cousin, he inherited the blood of a prestigious family, but due to his father's lineage, he was somewhat inferior to Dufault.

Because of this, he had an unnecessary admiration and inferiority complex towards her family, Dufault. He wisely did not show it to his father, but his inner feelings often came out to her young nephews, whether they were comfortable with him or not.

"This is why I had to choose the seeds carefully."

It was a small whisper, but Ana, who had bright ears, could hear it clearly. The person in question probably heard it, but he obediently bowed as if he didn't feel any shame, or sorry.

“This is Siasen Bergelmir.”

Dang-suk clicked her tongue as if she was displeased with her son acting like an uneducated child in front of 'Dupault's Lily Ana', but did not comlain any further.

In fact, what he really dislikes may be the fact that Siasen is an adopted son chosen from among distant relatives. It was news occasionally heard in social circles that Lord Bergelmir's wife, who came from a great family, was barren.

Her uncle's dream of having a good bloodline through marriage was frustrated. He had no choice but to adopt him. Among the disgusting 'backward bloodlines'.

"Ana, he's a poor child, so please understand."

"No. I'm also happy to see your son for the first time."

She deliberately did not choose the word 'internal cousin'. It seems she was considerate in her own way. And she inadvertently saw her humiliation in  Siasen's red ears and his shaking fists. Ironically, that's why Ana started to take a genuine interest in him.

A feeling of pity that is light as sympathy and heavy as favor. She wanted to pay a little more attention and do a good job.

Even if his efforts to be polite were a little lacking, the boy seemed intelligent enough to suppress his hot-bloodedness and humble himself so as not to displease his adoptive father, and most of all, she liked his wonderful black eyes.

Actually, she liked him from the first time she saw him.

“Mr. Bergelmir.”

When the adults invited to the summer house left for some alone time, Ana rarely spoke first.

"Would you like to have some cold tea with me in the garden?"

Without knowing what kind of fire that small crush would later become.

Ana managed to straighten her expression. She had many eyes. She smiled gracefully. His eyes, still dark and dark, lingered around her curved lips. 

"I didn't know a customer was standing and waiting."

"I will bring the tea soon."

She nodded lightly, walked past him, and sat down. The conversation with her maid itself was an indirect invitation to take a seat.

It was a more prudent way for a noble lady to not have personal contact or have more conversations than necessary with non-nobles or commoners. Now that Siasen had left his family, he was probably acting like a middle class.

As she sat down at the head table, Siasen, who had been standing there for a moment just watching Ana pass by, slowly sat down after her. It felt like a wolf drunk on scent was moving slowly. Meanwhile, Ana lowered her eyes and gathered her emotions.

When she heard a shout from the seat across from her and saw a hand that was bigger and rougher than she remembered, she casually raised her head, met her gaze, and managed to smile. He was silent for a moment. This time it was his turn.

“This is Siguin Noel.”

The burning black eyes were so intense that Ana intentionally averted his gaze.

They met again at her house, and she couldn't help but understand the context, but was he really that painter? 

Siasen has had an outstanding talent for drawing since ancient times. Wasn't it she who discovered his talent and encouraged him? 

But she never imagined that he would become such an outstanding master in just a few years. Unlike at the time when he was drawing studies, he established his own unique painting style and was completely unrecognizable.

No, can she say she didn't recognize it? Isn't this why she can only see him as recognizable even in a faceless picture? 

Anais von Tudor. You are amazing too. 

She swallowed a bitter smile and clicked her tongue.

After the usual greetings, they looked down at their teacups in silence. They reunited after almost 7 years, and they are drinking tea again as if they were meeting for the first time. As if nothing had happened. It was an appropriate and quaint moment, but it felt like a lifetime.

After hearing her last name change after marriage, the subtle twinkling of his black eyes and his low voice continue to linger in her mind.

“Madam Tudor. It is an honor to meet you, Marchioness."

Just like the boy of old, Siasen eventually politely paid his respects this time too. But unlike before, the tips of his pale ears did not turn red.

"I heard you liked my drawing."

Ana's fingertips almost trembled. She silently put down her teacup and nodded her head.

"It was a very, very good picture."

"This is my favorite painting."

"Oh, I see. Maybe that's why it's so beautiful..."

"This is a work that I drew dozens of times while remembering the girl I once loved, and only completed it for the tenth time. Should I say that it has a special meaning?"

"Ana. I want to draw you. Because you are the most beautiful subject I know."

A feverish whispering voice burned and died down in a long-ago memory. Ana looked straight at him, expressionless, with something hard to read. She mechanically raised her lips.

"I'm glad to see for the first time the artist's most beloved and ambitious work."

"That's me."

Siasen, or rather Sigyn Noel, added.

"Because Madame recognized my painting."

Of all the many, many people.

Ana was out of breath. It felt like she was tied up with a rope or pushed down a cliff. She stretched out her hand and played with the teacup. The familiar warmth brings her comfort.

He, who was sitting across from her, was persistently watching her every move. She felt trapped, and complex. She quickly took her hand away from her warm teacup.

"I'd like to see other works as well. Even to my limited eyes, Mr. Noel is an outstanding painter. So much so that I want to purchase and own as many works as possible. I will inform my dealers, so I look forward to good work in the future."

It was great to see such an accomplished artist in person. 

"Butler, please see Noel off."

Ana adjusted the hem of her skirt and stood up. She turned around and stopped when she heard a voice that seemed to grab her ankle.

"If it's not presumptuous..."

Her fingernails dug deep into her palms. Sigyn Noel flowed at her feet like hot water.

"Can I draw Madame sometime?"

“My Ana.”

"I wish time would stop like this."

"Love you. I love you so much."

"Ana. Let's run away with me."

Ana's trembling eyelashes close deeply and then open her eyes. Ana smiled gently and looked back.

"If there is a need to create a portrait with the Marquis, I will request it from Mr. Noel."

She deliberately did not check his changing expression.

That day, even after an unknown painter passed away, Ana couldn't sleep all night because she was so hot and suffocated as if the midsummer heat had arrived.

***

Ana.

Ana?

"Ana!"

Ana was startled and raised her head. Across from her, her husband, Garcia, was wiping his mouth with a napkin and looking at her intently. When she saw his mysterious golden eyes, she came to her senses as if she had been hit with cold water. She said with a smile on her face as if it had been decided.

"Sorry. Did you call me?"

"What are you thinking? No matter how many times I call you, you stay still."

The husband looked at his calm wife, who had never lost her mind in her life, a little longer and asked. Ana pulled the corners of her mouth further and smiled.

"No. I thought about something else for a moment."

In the end, Ana stayed up all night, and although her head was as heavy as wet cotton, her stomach was still upset. She tried to calm her heart, which was turned upside down as if a honeycomb had been pricked.

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