Jacqueline turned to look at Benjamin with a very satisfied expression.

The child’s expression gradually took on a bewildered look. Benjamin, who had been thinking hard, opened his mouth with an uncertain voice.

“Is it a snowman? Um… I think it could also be a sunflower given human qualities. Fauvist painters sometimes personify objects.”

Jacqueline turned her head again to look at the picture she had drawn. She replied with a brazen expression.

“Actually, it’s Colin, my most precious teddy bear. It’s a stuffed animal I received as a gift from my father on my fifteenth birthday. No, you didn’t mishear, Benjamin. Not five years old, but fifteen. That was the year I entered boarding school. Since then, Colin has always been my best friend and family. I hope I’ll have a chance to introduce him to you later.”

“…Yes.”

“Good. Then would you like to draw a picture too?”

Benjamin stood there motionless. The child looked perplexed, like someone about to embark on their first transgression.

Jacqueline knew that feeling. She had felt exactly like that before climbing over the boarding school fence.

But Jacqueline also remembered the sense of liberation and excitement she felt after crossing the fence.

It was like taking a step into a new world. Or like throwing off the heavy armor that had been constricting her.

Of course, the world didn’t change overnight. By sunset, she had to return to school and received a harsh scolding from the matron.

The headmaster even sent a letter to her home. And once again, the same daily routine repeated itself.

But that day’s experience became a great comfort and strength for Jacqueline. A comfort that helped her endure monotonous days, and a strength to stand against rigid rules.

If she set her mind to it, she could climb over the fence anytime. It’s just that today wasn’t that day. Not doing something was entirely different from not being able to do it.

If Lord Preston had exchanged letters with Headmaster Vincent, he wouldn’t have hired me.

Jacqueline quietly pulled up the corners of her mouth, thinking mischievously. She was generally an obedient and exemplary student, but occasionally caused unexpected trouble.

But everyone liked her. Both friends and teachers.

It was only at sixteen that Jacqueline gained a poignant realization. The realization that while rules and regulations should be followed, one need not be bound by them.

Sometimes it was okay to break out of them. The sky wouldn’t fall because of it. No, rather, another world was waiting for her. A world much wider and deeper than before.

“It’s alright, Benjamin. We’re discussing the new artistic movement sweeping the kingdom. In other words, this is part of the lesson. What’s your favorite color?”

“…”

Benjamin again gave no answer. The child was still hesitating in the face of strict discipline.

Jacqueline, slightly raising her eyebrow, started painting with yellow paint this time. Casually, so that her suggestion wouldn’t feel like coercion.

Maybe it’s a bit early for Benjamin.

The truth of life that sixteen-year-old Jacqueline had barely grasped might be too much for a six-year-old. But Jacqueline hoped the child would realize that rules weren’t everything in the world.

At that moment, Benjamin slowly approached her side. After hesitating several times, the child finally grasped a brush.

Benjamin very carefully and meticulously dipped the brush in black paint. Jacqueline, without giving the child a glance, quietly pulled up the corners of her mouth and devoted herself to her artistic activity.

Sometimes indifference was necessary. Just as Windsor had shown no interest in the “Penniless Lady”.

A pause.

The squirrel-hair brush hesitated for a long while on the ivory wallpaper. Benjamin was having a final battle with his own mold.

It must have been as arduous as a chick breaking out of its shell.

Drip.

A drop of black paint that had gathered at the tip of the brush fell to the floor. Jacqueline didn’t rush the child, but quietly held her place.

Breaking out of the shell from the inside was entirely the child’s role.

“…”

Finally, force was applied to the brush tip. A black dot was marked on the wallpaper.

The brush, which had been moving timidly, gradually became bolder, and before long succeeded in drawing a shape.

“Wow!”

Only then did Jacqueline open her eyes wide and look at the picture. She said in an admiring voice.

“It’s a ship.”

“…Yes.”

At the child’s response, Jacqueline opened her eyes even wider. She burst into a bright smile as if she had received an unexpected gift.

Benjamin shyly lowered his head, and Jacqueline observed the artwork intently, resting her chin on one hand like a judge evaluating a piece.

“Where is the ship going?”

“…”

“Hmm, judging by its shape, it doesn’t seem to be a merchant ship, is it a warship?”

“!”

At those words, Benjamin’s eyes widened. For the first time, a look of approval appeared in the child’s eyes as he turned to Jacqueline.

Jacqueline picked up a light green brush and again concentrated on her own work. It was a painting expressing her modest wish.

A small house standing in a field.

After hesitating for a while, Benjamin added in a small voice.

“It’s the largest warship in the Black Fleet that protects the kingdom’s seas. It guards merchant ships and eradicates pirates. Ah, the Black Fleet is a nickname for the kingdom’s navy.”

The faintly wavering emotion was pride.

When was it? She had read an article about Windsor’s warship dramatically rescuing a merchant ship captured by pirates.

Thanks to interviews with the returned sailors, his name circulated like a heroic tale for a while. Along with articles about him being the illegitimate child of Marquis Preston.

From then on, pirates began calling Windsor by the nickname “The Demon of the Black Fleet”. Because the demon showed no mercy and never granted clemency.

Does Benjamin like his uncle?

Jacqueline, looking at the child with a thoughtful face, added in an offhand manner.

“It’s a splendid warship. If this ship had been dispatched when my father’s merchant ship ran aground, everyone could have returned alive.”

“!”

In an instant, Benjamin’s eyes widened. The light brown irises trembled slightly. Jacqueline belatedly realized it was because of her statement.

“It’s okay. It’s all in the past.”

It’s okay.

That was both consideration for the other person and a spell for herself.

Jacqueline always had to be okay. Even when she heard the news of her father’s ship sinking, even when creditors came barging in.

She had a mother weakened by neurosis, and journalists watching her every move.

So she had to be okay. Because this was the social world where someone’s misfortune could become an interesting topic of conversation.

She must never break down. She had to endure with a composed face and pretend nothing was wrong. And she thought she had done quite well.

But at this moment, the small child before her seemed similar to herself. Perhaps Benjamin too was enduring with words of being okay. Because the sorrow of losing both parents would never be light, nor would it easily disappear.

“My dream is to have a small house in my name. A house where I can live with my mother, just the two of us. How about that, isn’t it nice?”

She drew a few blue flowers in the front yard of the small house and finally put down her brush. Confident eyes turned towards the child.

Benjamin’s eyes, which had been listening to her words, gradually took on a bewildered light. The gaze that had been moving quickly left and right slowly fell to the floor.

After hesitating, Benjamin slowly nodded.

“…Yes.”

A lie, clearly not the first in the child’s life, flowed out. But there was no feeling of guilt.

Because Jacqueline smiled brightly and drew clouds above the roof. Looking at the fluffy purple clouds, Benjamin took courage.

“The clouds are majestic.”

“Clouds? Ah, these? These are apple trees. It’s spring so there aren’t any apples yet, but don’t they look just like apple trees?”

“…”

Turning his head slightly, Benjamin dipped a new brush in green paint. And began to devote himself to his artistic activity.

With each movement of the child’s fingertips, trains appeared and carriages roamed the streets. If someone else had seen it, they might have judged it to be much better than Jacqueline’s skill.

At that moment, Jacqueline’s gentle voice continued.

“The most important thing in Fauvism is to express the artist’s individuality. It’s important to break away from the actual form of trains or carriages and incorporate the artist’s own imagination. Like a train with wings or a carriage pulled by a dragon.”

“…”

“Benjamin, if you try a little harder, you’ll be able to draw as wonderfully as I do. Oh, of course, compared to your peers, you’re already drawing quite well. So there’s no need to feel discouraged at all. It’s just that I’m exceptionally talented. Actually, I’ve had a rich imagination since I was young.”

Benjamin had many things he wanted to say, but he kept his lips tightly sealed. Remembering the Preston family motto: Silence is golden.

Instead, the child’s hand holding the brush moved chattily.

The Preston family carriage stood proudly occupying the main road.

Roman Miller, Windsor’s assistant, held the carriage door with one hand and straightened his back with the other hand behind him. It was more like the attitude of a soldier than an assistant.

It wasn’t exactly wrong. Before becoming Windsor’s assistant, he had been in the navy.

At that moment, Windsor, who had come out of the building, got into the carriage. Roman sat opposite him and closed the door. The stationary carriage began to move.

Roman, who had been standing at attention until just now, whistled lightly, “Whew.” His stiff expression quickly crumbled.

“Isn’t that the Greenwood family’s car behind us? Did Lord Walter Greenwood come to see the Marquis for some business? Isn’t he someone you don’t usually associate with?”

Despite the barrage of curious questions, Windsor said nothing. Roman frowned as he watched the tail of the car overtaking the carriage.

“These days, anyone with a bit of money is riding around in cars, so why do you still insist on this outdated carriage, Marquis? You’re a man of means.”

“Cars are still an imperfect mode of transportation. Didn’t you see the article a few days ago about a car that suddenly stopped on the railroad tracks while crossing, causing a collision with a train?”

“Wasn’t that an accident caused by a drunk driver trying to force his way across the tracks? Besides, if we’re talking about accidents, carriage accidents are just as common as car accidents.”

“But carriage accidents are predictable. I have no intention of entrusting my safety to an uncertain machine.”

At those words, Roman placed his interlocked hands behind his head and sank deep into the seat.

“I didn’t know the Marquis had such a safety-first personality. Is that why you stand at the forefront when a battle breaks out? Leaving your subordinates behind?”

“That situation is different from now.”

“How is it different?”