In the studio’s lounge area, Delia was lying weakly on the long sofa. Light slid down her fluttering eyelashes as if gliding, making it difficult to lift the heavy eyelids burdened by a languid drowsiness. She had to get up. However, Delia couldn’t move a muscle because of Aaron nestled in her arms. Was she considering herself a blanket? Aaron pushed Delia into the inner part of the sofa, enveloping her seamlessly. With their positions precariously draped over the sofa, it was impossible to push him away, as if she might fall off with a slight movement. She didn’t want to push him away, reluctant to dispel the warmth transmitted by their touching bodies. Eventually, Delia gave up on getting up. Crazy blanket. Delia softly muttered, kicking and giggling at Aaron’s new nickname. Despite being quite heavy for a blanket, the subtle pressure from Aaron’s body gave Delia a profound sense of security. A small smile formed on Delia’s lips as the tingling sensation from her suppressed heart was felt.
A faint sensation painted a small smile on Delia’s lips, drawn by the tingling feeling in her suppressed heart.
“Now, get up.”
Delia raised the hand that had been sprawled outside the sofa and gently stroked Aaron’s head.
Aaron’s hair tangled between her fingers.
The shining silver strands, like sunlight-kissed sugar powder, tickled her palm.
Wanting to feel that sensation more deeply, Delia buried her hand in Aaron’s hair.
She hugged him slightly, buried her nose in his hair, and the rich scent filled her lungs, satisfyingly causing her eyes to close on their own.
“Mmm.”
Aaron, who had been closing his eyes in the aftermath, flinched.
Aaron’s comfortably nested eyelashes trembled softly.
The low moan from Aaron reached Delia through the softness of his skin.
Feeling sorry for waking him up for no reason, Delia whispered softly to comfort him.
“Now, you have to go.”
“Mmm. Just a moment.”
A hint of regret lingered in Aaron’s deeply locked voice.
“Mother will be looking for you.”
While waking Aaron, Delia continued to deeply bury her hand in his hair.
Rather than trying to wake him up, the caressing touch was gentle, as if putting him to sleep.
“A little longer.”
Aaron, delving even deeper, buried his forehead on her slender neck.
His hand moved up Delia’s curvature, reaching the scars on her left arm.
Instead of distancing himself from Delia, Aaron clung even more firmly, not just physically but emotionally.
“If Mother catches us, we’ll be scolded. Especially by the Commander.”
“It’s okay. The studio members will buy us some time.”
“Huh?”
Delia, surprised, twitched her body.
“The studio people?”
Delia, unable to move her body, rolled her blue eyes around to survey the lounge.
It was strange.
The usually bustling studio was surprisingly quiet.
As if all the people who were here had turned into statues, it was so quiet and still.
“Where did everyone go?”
“They went to the royal city at the Queen’s summons.”
“What about the assistants? The apprentices?”
“They were given a special day off today. They all went home.”
Aaron’s breath, giving a firm reply, flowed down her collarbone.
Her toes tingled at the sensitive touch, brushing against a ticklish spot.
The hand that touched her hair tightened as her whole body itched.
As Delia exerted more force, Aaron’s hair became more disheveled.
“How? How is that possible?”
“It’s easy. Once you capture the Commander, everyone follows suit.”
“That’s not easy. Perugino’s determination is so strong.”
The Ficherin studio was operated under the responsibility of Perugino, the Royal Chief Artist.
As an artist, he possessed unique pride, coupled with the heavy responsibility of being the studio representative, making him not someone easily swayed.
“How on earth did you manage to persuade him?”
“He decided to give what he desperately desires.”
“What is it?”
“An opportunity to paint a portrait of Princess Iorenti.”
“Uh.”
An unknown scream, which could not be identified, shook the sluggish workshop.
Delia grimaced, placing her hand on Aaron’s shoulder.
She pushed Aaron with force, but his sturdy and broad shoulders didn’t budge.
“How did you manage to persuade him to let me go?”
Even as Delia pushed and grumbled, Aaron remained unmoved, cuddling Delia comfortably, murmuring to her in a relaxed posture.
“He promised to give you a chance to paint Princess Iorenti’s portrait, and everyone moved without hesitation.”
According to Meredith, the Ficherin workshop was a group filled with resentment for not being able to capture Princess Iorenti in their artworks.
Due to Delia, who detested drawing portraits since she was young, nobody could paint her on a canvas.
In such a situation, the promise of becoming the consort of the princess, especially from the Commander, was a fatal temptation.
A chance to paint Princess Iorenti’s portrait.
As soon as they heard Aaron’s promise, Perugino and the workshop members left the workshop in an instant.
As if hearing news of an imperial army attack, they abandoned everything and left.
Male lead is a Divorced Husband
She said to him: “Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change it!”
Liu Changning transmigrated into a female cannon fodder character in a female-dominant novel.
After reading the first half of the novel’s plot, the first thing she did upon transmigration was to divorce the Pan Jinlian-style male protagonist she had just married.
She indulged herself, pretending to be ugly and poor.
But as time passed, the way that man looked at her became more and more unusual…
Liu Changning was dumbfounded: Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change!
――
This lifetime, Pei Yuanshao was rejected by the same woman twice!
The first time, she drove him away. Forced by the situation, he endured the waves of anger in his heart, yielding and humbling himself.
That person lay slanted on a rocking chair, her sallow face emotionless: “If you don’t want a divorce, go cook!”
Pei Yuanshao’s face was dark and gloomy: “You!”
The second time, after the crisis in Jinling City was resolved, the new emperor sent someone to pick him up. He turned around, stammering: “I… I have to go. If you keep me…”
That person lay on the kang bed, her back to him, as if she had long anticipated this day, crisp and clear: “Goodbye!”
Pei Yuanshao was so angry his fingers trembled: “You… you!”
The mission of family and country made him restrain himself, averting his eyes and turning to leave this broken household.
Two years later, they met again. Seeing her ethereal face, his body shook like a sieve.
“She was originally a ‘she’!”
At the Qionglin Banquet, the top scholar of the imperial examination, a talented person with exceptional speech and conduct, all the unmarried young gentlemen from aristocratic families looked at her with shy and timid eyes.
The peerless imperial official Pei Yuanshao felt the anger in his heart erupt. He pointed at the woman surrounded by the crowd at the Qionglin Banquet, his thin lips slightly curled: “Little sister, I wants that person to be the wife-master of my Mingde Prince Manor.”
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