After forcibly sending Tan to the incense shop, Erne and Judith headed to Vincero's studio to paint a portrait.
“You wanted a front view, right? Now, Madam, please sit on the sofa here, and Sir Erne, please stand next to the sofa.”
As Vincero gave instructions in front of the canvas, Vincero's secretary personally helped Erne and Judith to position themselves.
“This is too much like a stranger, so let’s hold hands. Madam, your arms will hurt, so please rest your elbows on the handrail.”
We hold hands in bed every night, but I feel embarrassed when I hold hands in front of others.
“...”
My hand, held in Erne's large grasp, was not even visible if you looked closely.
Rough and hard hands. I really liked the feel of them, which could not even be described as soft.
“Don’t move. Your expression is just right now. Madam has the face of a girl who has just held a man’s hand for the first time. It’s lovely and good.”
No, do you see that? Really? It's not like it's the first time I've held a guy's hand, but you're saying that you feel embarrassed when you have a skinship in front of other people?
Judith was slightly embarrassed. Erne clenched his teeth to keep himself from laughing as he watched the tips of her ears turn red. He wondered if it was true that she had never held a man’s hand in her past life.
From now on, they should hold hands more often in front of other people. Even after getting married, she feels so embarrassed every time she holds hands. What would other people say?
Even after going through all the hardships and doing everything, they still seem like a good couple...
'Oh, we didn't do it.'
They didn't do it. They did things that a married couple should have done. They had a meal, they were married on paper, and they slept in the same bed, but they didn't do the important thing.
When Judith rushed at him to have a sleepover at first sight, should he have just let it go? But he doesn't want to have a sleepover like that.
Erne glanced at Judith. Someone who had no idea what that romantic atmosphere was would not care at all.
But since he couldn't bear to see Judith bashfully like this after everything he had done, Erne decided to enjoy this moment for a moment. The warmth of the two of them mixed as he held onto her hand without letting go.
Moments of being cute and shy flowed, and flowed, and flowed.
A long time passed like that.
“...How long do I have to stay like this?”
“...My arms are about to fall off.”
“A person’s arm doesn’t fall off that easily.”
No, it's not your arm. Judith couldn't feel the hand she was holding with Erne. Her back, which had been kept straight, hurt, and she was dying of boredom just sitting still.
Erne was the same. Standing in one position made his legs stiff, bored, and sleepy. He wondered how other people could draw portraits.
“Then I’ll stop here for today.”
Vincero put down his brush as he watched Judith begin to wiggle her hips.
Judith rubbed her numb arm, and Erne twisted his ankle.
“Yes, now I’ll sketch my drawing.”
Erne frowned at the never-ending modeling work.
“Please change your clothes and come out.”
But a promise is a promise, so Erne had no choice but to change into the clothes Vincero's secretary gave him.
“What’s the difference between this and nude?”
Erne, who was walking out of the locker room, had only a white cloth wrapped around his lower body.
It's like a garment that looks like it was made by cutting off only the shoulder part of a male God's garment from Greco-Roman mythology.
The cloth hung precariously on his pelvis as if it would slip off at any moment.
“What kind of crazy person goes to war like this? Even though it’s a painting, isn’t it too unrealistic?”
“So, you are the God of war. You can win no matter what you wear. Now, please hold your sword.”
“And you’re wielding a sword like this? Then you’re not a God of war, you’re a pervert.”
Whether Erne complained or not, Vincero's secretary put a sword in Erne's hand. Then, he hurriedly began to draw the outline.
Judith sat down behind the empty chair, enjoying the paintings, Erne, and the colorful sights.
Erne, who never thought he would become an eye-catcher while living his life, took a moment to reflect on how hia life had come to this point.
“But is it okay to exhibit such obscene paintings? Are there any people who would buy them?”
“It’s obscene, but it’s definitely art.”
Vincero replied as if he was displeased.
“The only truly obscene pictures are the single pictures you see on the streets these days.”
“A single picture?”
“Yes, they are called single-page drawings because the size of the drawings is small, like a torn page of a book. They are just obscene and provocative drawings.”
It was a painting depicting an intimate scene between a man and a woman, and it was said to be sold for a few pennies.
He strongly criticized it, saying that it was neither art nor anything else and that the person who drew such pictures should not even be called a painter.
“Anyway, they seem like pathetic seeds.”
The secretary flinched at Vincero's voice, but Erne was the only one who noticed it.
The mansion of Viscount Wilbur.
Tan, who had stopped by the Count's residence to sell to the young lady of the Viscount Wilbur as Judith had instructed, was shocked when he came out.
“Oh my, have you ever seen such a crazy old man?”
Tan stuck out his tongue and hurried his steps to get away from the Viscount's residence. Then he came across a picture on a wall.
“What kind of troubles are the other psychics going through because of this guy?”
On every wall around the center, there was a wanted poster with a picture of a priest.
Since the perception of mediums was not very good, to begin with, the fact that the wanted poster for priests and the registration law for mediums were announced at the same time had a significant impact.
People were muttering that the mediums were helping traitors and that they had done so many illegal things that the imperial court had to step in and make such a law.
Thanks to this, customers who had their fortunes read by psychics for fun and bought cheap amulets stopped coming.
“He needs to be caught quickly.”
The search was fraught with difficulty. The mood was hopeful, even when traces of the priest's escape into the Earldom of Cornell were found.
The Constabulary, the Imperial Knights, and even Count Connell's private soldiers searched the Cornell lands as if they were hunting each other, but it is said that not a single hair of the priest's head was found.
“Did he rise to the sky or fall to the ground?”
Tsk tsk, a boy who looked to be around the same age as him passed by Tan, who was clicking his tongue. Tan turned his head towards the boy.
“Huh? Huh?”
Tan looked back and forth between the face on the wanted poster and the boy's back, then quickly tore off one of the posters.
“They are similar in height and face.”
Even their age was similar. Tan followed the boy, hiding his trembling hands in his pockets.
The boy was heading in the direction of the Viscount Wilbur. Tan continued to follow him, hoping to find out where the boy was headed.
Just when he thought he was secretly following him, the boy turned around.
"Hey."
“Me, me?”
“Yes, you are. Are you following me now?”
“Oh, that’s not it.”
“No, that’s not it, don’t follow me.”
Tan, who was faced with the boy's harsh eyes, lowered his head in embarrassment. The eyes he met were as blue as a lake.
“I wasted my time.”
Tan shook his head when Judith asked him what had happened to him when he returned to the Rhineland mansion.
“More than that...”
Tan hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should start by telling the story of seeing someone who resembled Shadin.
'But the color of his eyes was different. A pureblood of the Shartin tribe should have amber eyes, but his eyes were blue.'
Hair color can be hidden with a wig, but eye color can't be changed, right? Perhaps it was someone whose face resembled that of another person.
“What more than that?”
"No."
Tan, who thought there was no need to mention that he had seen someone who barely resembled the Priest, started by telling the story of what had happened at the Wilbur residence.
“As soon as I entered the mansion with the young lady of the Viscount Wilbur, I was summoned to the Viscount's presence.”
He was taken to the room of the Viscount's youngest son.
“That Viscount's son was a total idiot, but the Viscount asked me to save him.”
“Can’t Mr. Beichi go?”
“No matter who comes here, they can’t survive.”
The youngest son of Viscount Wilbur, who was so precious that he could not even be hurt, was barely breathing. He was still alive after receiving various treatments from a famous doctor.
“I told him honestly. Saving his son was beyond my ability. Do you know what he said when I told him that?”
“What is he saying?”
“Then can’t you let me have children? Even if my son doesn’t survive, please at least save my ability to reproduce so I can have grandchildren.”
Tan shook his head at the unheard request.
“I said no, so he asked if I could make him younger this time. He said he heard a rumor that Baron Lionel bought a youth elixir from a medium, and he asked me if I could sell him something like that.”
Tan flinched slightly there. He knew who made and sold the medicine.
“He was planning to get married and have a son.”
“Why did he say that?”
“He has to carry on the legacy, the legacy.”
The words 'legacy' that she heard a hundred times in her writings, with a little exaggeration, seemed to be heard.
“And he kept spitting that the line should be continued by his son, but I felt bad for Viscount Wilbur. Didn’t he live his whole life hearing those words?”
Tan said he could still hear the old man's voice and twitched his ears.
But then, a piercing scream was heard from the room where the incense was made.
“You wanted a front view, right? Now, Madam, please sit on the sofa here, and Sir Erne, please stand next to the sofa.”
As Vincero gave instructions in front of the canvas, Vincero's secretary personally helped Erne and Judith to position themselves.
“This is too much like a stranger, so let’s hold hands. Madam, your arms will hurt, so please rest your elbows on the handrail.”
We hold hands in bed every night, but I feel embarrassed when I hold hands in front of others.
“...”
My hand, held in Erne's large grasp, was not even visible if you looked closely.
Rough and hard hands. I really liked the feel of them, which could not even be described as soft.
“Don’t move. Your expression is just right now. Madam has the face of a girl who has just held a man’s hand for the first time. It’s lovely and good.”
No, do you see that? Really? It's not like it's the first time I've held a guy's hand, but you're saying that you feel embarrassed when you have a skinship in front of other people?
Judith was slightly embarrassed. Erne clenched his teeth to keep himself from laughing as he watched the tips of her ears turn red. He wondered if it was true that she had never held a man’s hand in her past life.
From now on, they should hold hands more often in front of other people. Even after getting married, she feels so embarrassed every time she holds hands. What would other people say?
Even after going through all the hardships and doing everything, they still seem like a good couple...
'Oh, we didn't do it.'
They didn't do it. They did things that a married couple should have done. They had a meal, they were married on paper, and they slept in the same bed, but they didn't do the important thing.
When Judith rushed at him to have a sleepover at first sight, should he have just let it go? But he doesn't want to have a sleepover like that.
Erne glanced at Judith. Someone who had no idea what that romantic atmosphere was would not care at all.
But since he couldn't bear to see Judith bashfully like this after everything he had done, Erne decided to enjoy this moment for a moment. The warmth of the two of them mixed as he held onto her hand without letting go.
Moments of being cute and shy flowed, and flowed, and flowed.
A long time passed like that.
“...How long do I have to stay like this?”
“...My arms are about to fall off.”
“A person’s arm doesn’t fall off that easily.”
No, it's not your arm. Judith couldn't feel the hand she was holding with Erne. Her back, which had been kept straight, hurt, and she was dying of boredom just sitting still.
Erne was the same. Standing in one position made his legs stiff, bored, and sleepy. He wondered how other people could draw portraits.
“Then I’ll stop here for today.”
Vincero put down his brush as he watched Judith begin to wiggle her hips.
Judith rubbed her numb arm, and Erne twisted his ankle.
“Yes, now I’ll sketch my drawing.”
Erne frowned at the never-ending modeling work.
“Please change your clothes and come out.”
But a promise is a promise, so Erne had no choice but to change into the clothes Vincero's secretary gave him.
“What’s the difference between this and nude?”
Erne, who was walking out of the locker room, had only a white cloth wrapped around his lower body.
It's like a garment that looks like it was made by cutting off only the shoulder part of a male God's garment from Greco-Roman mythology.
The cloth hung precariously on his pelvis as if it would slip off at any moment.
“What kind of crazy person goes to war like this? Even though it’s a painting, isn’t it too unrealistic?”
“So, you are the God of war. You can win no matter what you wear. Now, please hold your sword.”
“And you’re wielding a sword like this? Then you’re not a God of war, you’re a pervert.”
Whether Erne complained or not, Vincero's secretary put a sword in Erne's hand. Then, he hurriedly began to draw the outline.
Judith sat down behind the empty chair, enjoying the paintings, Erne, and the colorful sights.
Erne, who never thought he would become an eye-catcher while living his life, took a moment to reflect on how hia life had come to this point.
“But is it okay to exhibit such obscene paintings? Are there any people who would buy them?”
“It’s obscene, but it’s definitely art.”
Vincero replied as if he was displeased.
“The only truly obscene pictures are the single pictures you see on the streets these days.”
“A single picture?”
“Yes, they are called single-page drawings because the size of the drawings is small, like a torn page of a book. They are just obscene and provocative drawings.”
It was a painting depicting an intimate scene between a man and a woman, and it was said to be sold for a few pennies.
He strongly criticized it, saying that it was neither art nor anything else and that the person who drew such pictures should not even be called a painter.
“Anyway, they seem like pathetic seeds.”
The secretary flinched at Vincero's voice, but Erne was the only one who noticed it.
***
The mansion of Viscount Wilbur.
Tan, who had stopped by the Count's residence to sell to the young lady of the Viscount Wilbur as Judith had instructed, was shocked when he came out.
“Oh my, have you ever seen such a crazy old man?”
Tan stuck out his tongue and hurried his steps to get away from the Viscount's residence. Then he came across a picture on a wall.
“What kind of troubles are the other psychics going through because of this guy?”
On every wall around the center, there was a wanted poster with a picture of a priest.
Since the perception of mediums was not very good, to begin with, the fact that the wanted poster for priests and the registration law for mediums were announced at the same time had a significant impact.
People were muttering that the mediums were helping traitors and that they had done so many illegal things that the imperial court had to step in and make such a law.
Thanks to this, customers who had their fortunes read by psychics for fun and bought cheap amulets stopped coming.
“He needs to be caught quickly.”
The search was fraught with difficulty. The mood was hopeful, even when traces of the priest's escape into the Earldom of Cornell were found.
The Constabulary, the Imperial Knights, and even Count Connell's private soldiers searched the Cornell lands as if they were hunting each other, but it is said that not a single hair of the priest's head was found.
“Did he rise to the sky or fall to the ground?”
Tsk tsk, a boy who looked to be around the same age as him passed by Tan, who was clicking his tongue. Tan turned his head towards the boy.
“Huh? Huh?”
Tan looked back and forth between the face on the wanted poster and the boy's back, then quickly tore off one of the posters.
“They are similar in height and face.”
Even their age was similar. Tan followed the boy, hiding his trembling hands in his pockets.
The boy was heading in the direction of the Viscount Wilbur. Tan continued to follow him, hoping to find out where the boy was headed.
Just when he thought he was secretly following him, the boy turned around.
"Hey."
“Me, me?”
“Yes, you are. Are you following me now?”
“Oh, that’s not it.”
“No, that’s not it, don’t follow me.”
Tan, who was faced with the boy's harsh eyes, lowered his head in embarrassment. The eyes he met were as blue as a lake.
***
“I wasted my time.”
Tan shook his head when Judith asked him what had happened to him when he returned to the Rhineland mansion.
“More than that...”
Tan hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should start by telling the story of seeing someone who resembled Shadin.
'But the color of his eyes was different. A pureblood of the Shartin tribe should have amber eyes, but his eyes were blue.'
Hair color can be hidden with a wig, but eye color can't be changed, right? Perhaps it was someone whose face resembled that of another person.
“What more than that?”
"No."
Tan, who thought there was no need to mention that he had seen someone who barely resembled the Priest, started by telling the story of what had happened at the Wilbur residence.
“As soon as I entered the mansion with the young lady of the Viscount Wilbur, I was summoned to the Viscount's presence.”
He was taken to the room of the Viscount's youngest son.
“That Viscount's son was a total idiot, but the Viscount asked me to save him.”
“Can’t Mr. Beichi go?”
“No matter who comes here, they can’t survive.”
The youngest son of Viscount Wilbur, who was so precious that he could not even be hurt, was barely breathing. He was still alive after receiving various treatments from a famous doctor.
“I told him honestly. Saving his son was beyond my ability. Do you know what he said when I told him that?”
“What is he saying?”
“Then can’t you let me have children? Even if my son doesn’t survive, please at least save my ability to reproduce so I can have grandchildren.”
Tan shook his head at the unheard request.
“I said no, so he asked if I could make him younger this time. He said he heard a rumor that Baron Lionel bought a youth elixir from a medium, and he asked me if I could sell him something like that.”
Tan flinched slightly there. He knew who made and sold the medicine.
“He was planning to get married and have a son.”
“Why did he say that?”
“He has to carry on the legacy, the legacy.”
The words 'legacy' that she heard a hundred times in her writings, with a little exaggeration, seemed to be heard.
“And he kept spitting that the line should be continued by his son, but I felt bad for Viscount Wilbur. Didn’t he live his whole life hearing those words?”
Tan said he could still hear the old man's voice and twitched his ears.
But then, a piercing scream was heard from the room where the incense was made.
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