“How about this?”

“It’s good.”

“And this?”

Melly nodded as she appreciated the unpublished works in the workroom of the Marchioness of Andert.

All of her paintings were landscapes, still lifes, or portraits set against peaceful countryside backgrounds.

There was no need to rack one’s brain to grasp the meaning. One only had to comfortably appreciate the paintings and express what one felt.

Melly praised some works, while for others she made an ambiguous expression and said they were well-painted but perhaps a bit excessive.

Lady Andert gladly accepted both good and bad evaluations.

“Thank you for being honest. That’s exactly what I needed to hear.”

She confessed that she had pretended to prefer difficult paintings to fit the tastes of her family and other noble ladies. She also said she was truly glad to now have a friend to whom she could show her true self without pretense.

It was then that a knock was heard.

“Marchioness. I have something to tell you…”

The butler of the marquis’s household entered and whispered something in her ear. As Jeina nodded while listening, her gaze turned to Melly for a moment.

‘What could it be?’

While Melly was wondering with a puzzled face, the butler moved away from Jeina.

“Tell them I understand.”

Jeina instructed him and then looked at Melly with an apologetic expression.

“I’m so sorry.”

“…?”

“It seems I’ll have to leave for a while to take care of an urgent matter. Will you be alright by yourself?”

“Of course. Take your time, don’t rush.”

“Thank you.”

Jeina gave a pretty smile and left the workroom with light steps.

Melly moved on to the next painting by herself.

The more she looked at the works, the more she came to see Jeina Andert in a new light. Jeina was taking a serious approach to her hobby.

Her rather delicate brush technique accurately conveyed what she wanted to show.

Melly felt she could now let go of the fixed idea that one must possess high-level specialized knowledge to understand art.

Art was life itself. Believing that the more difficult a work is, the better it is, was merely the delusion of nobles intoxicated by their own superiority.

She was walking along the wall with an easy mind when she suddenly stopped at one point.

There hung the painting of Milord Square that she had seen before.

And so Melly was once again immersed in the feelings of that day.

The day when she decided the direction of her life for the first and last time on her own, but soon after, due to a certain incident, she completely abandoned the new possibility.

Melly sometimes thought about it.

What if that night, she hadn’t spent a historic night with Edric?

What kind of life would the road not taken have shown her?

But she could never imagine anything. In her mind, she couldn’t picture a life where she wasn’t Edric Pelton’s wife.

It was strange.

She had only lived as Melisa Pelton for just over five years, so why was it so difficult to even think about her life as Melly Enwood?

What had happened to her in those five years?

“…!”

Suddenly, she sensed a presence behind her. Melly quickly hid her troubled feelings behind a smile and turned around.

“You didn’t have to hurry back…”

She thought Jeina had returned. But it wasn’t her.

A tall man with black hair and reddish-yellow eyes smiled at her. He was always sudden. Francis.

“It’s been a while, Miss Enwood.”

He greeted her with a gentle smile. And from his greeting, Melly could remember her maiden name and life. That was all the benefit he provided.

She wiped the smile off her face and greeted him stiffly.

“Yes, it’s been a long time. And I’m not Melly Enwood, but Melisa Pelton.”

“I know. I just called you that because I was glad to see you.”

He smiled brightly and took a step closer, undeterred by Melly’s thorny tone.

Compared to five years ago, he had grown taller and broader in the shoulders. His slightly tanned, manly complexion was now quite rugged, and his eyes had deepened. He had now fully become an adult.

But in Melly’s eyes, he remained the ill-mannered rascal who had sneaked into her room to steal and mock her diary. And who was still milking that incident.

“I heard you recognized my painting at a glance.”

“Isn’t that why you showed it?”

“That’s right.”

He affirmed with a brazen attitude.

As Melly bit her lower lip and stared at him, Francis pouted as if feeling wronged.

“Don’t glare at me like that. I believe I helped improve your image a little bit.”

“I never wished for that, so I don’t feel grateful.”

“You’re still so stiff.”

Francis said that and gazed at her intently.

In that gaze, Melly realized that to him, she was still Melly Enwood, the ward girl who didn’t know what to do when her secret was discovered.

Feeling a sudden urge to rebel, she brought up something she had been pretending not to know.

“What kind of relationship do you have with Lady Andert? Is it truly just a pure patron-artist relationship?”

She thought it wasn’t a completely baseless guess. He already had a track record.

“Well. If I say it’s not, will you worry about me?”

“Worry?”

What nonsense was this now?

“I don’t see why I should worry about you.”

“You did five years ago.”

Francis pointed at the painting with his finger and added.

“There.”

At those words, Melly looked at the Milord Square painting again.

Then she could see something that wasn’t visible before.

A woman was sitting looking at the sunset, and far away from her, a man holding an ice cream box was standing. Both she and he were in the picture.

‘Don’t waste your life in vain.’

Melly recalled what she had said that day. She wondered why she had done that.

“I didn’t say it particularly for your sake.”

“But it was very helpful to me.”

Francis wasn’t disappointed at all. Melly felt increasingly uncomfortable in this situation. It felt like she was committing an indiscretion with a strange man, hiding from others’ eyes.

She kept looking towards the entrance, wondering why Lady Andert wasn’t returning quickly.

Then Francis said,

“It will take some time. I told her I wanted to have a chat with you.”

“…”

Suddenly, the question about why Jeina had given her a strange look while listening to the butler’s message was answered.

She had faithfully followed the instructions given to her.

“So how much time is left?”

“An hour.”

Melly’s round eyes widened, revealing their complete spherical shape between her open eyelids.

At that, Francis burst out laughing and corrected it to ten minutes.

He shook his head and said,

“You still like to set an end time, don’t you.”

Melly was even more displeased with him speaking as if he knew everything about her despite having met only a few times.

She moved along the wall where the paintings were hung.

It was out of a desire to get away from him.

But Francis persistently followed, and before she knew it, they were walking side by side.

“…”

No matter how much she turned her head, his gaze kept sticking to her temple. She wanted to believe he was looking at the paintings, not at her, but it didn’t seem to be the case.

Rather than continue to receive this one-sided gaze, she thought it might be better to have a conversation.

“…Why did you give up the position of heir to the Adel marquis family?”

It was too old a story, but there was nothing else to ask.

“I wanted to live freely. Father could grasp it all by himself anyway.”

“So did you grasp it?”

“To some extent.”

“Through painting?”

“This and that.”

If she had really been curious, these vague answers would have been infuriating.

But Melly, who wasn’t curious at all, just responded indifferently.

“I see.”

Suddenly, he increased his pace to overtake Melly and blocked her path.

Melly stopped and looked up at him.

The gaze that had felt secretive and persistent when she was only aware of it from the corner of her eye was surprisingly transparent when faced directly.

Melly was relieved to see eyes that didn’t contain any suspicious self-interest.

“Are you sick anywhere these days?”

He asked abruptly.

“No.”

“Then are you taking any medicine?”

“…”

Melly was perplexed by the unexpected question. How did this man know about that?

“Do you?”

When Melly didn’t answer, Francis asked again. Melly nodded with a wary face.

“…Yes.”

“What kind of medicine?”

“I’d rather not say that much.”

Melly didn’t want to tell her circumstances to a man who was practically a stranger.

“Alright. Then how long have you been taking it? Just tell me that.”

Melly flashed a wary look again, then sighed deeply and answered.

“Three years.”

She thought it would be okay to tell him this much.

“I see.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Your eye color seems a bit lighter than before.”

Is that all.

Now she understood why he had asked such an out-of-the-blue question.

Melly chuckled and said,

“They said that could happen. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Who did?”

“My mother.”

She felt uneasy about mentioning Eida inadvertently. To prevent his mind from dwelling on Eida’s name, she quickly changed the subject.

“Anyway, it’s nothing. My eyesight hasn’t deteriorated because of the fading eye color either.”

“Of course not.”

Francis, who had been examining her like a doctor, didn’t say anything else after that.

As if he had really asked out of curiosity, their conversation ended there.

Melly heard the click-clack of Jeina’s footsteps coming from the end of the corridor. It seemed ten minutes were up.

“Then I’ll be going now.”

Francis politely took his leave. But when he reached the entrance, he suddenly stopped and said without turning his head,

“Don’t take that medicine.”

“Why?”

Melly asked. He looked back at her over his shoulder.

“Just because. It doesn’t seem to suit you very well.”