Chapter 42
Chapter 42
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: Subtle Currents
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Artemisia tilted her head as she visited Daphne's room for her lesson. A guest had arrived before her. Or rather, one might call them a guest and the host.
The Emperor was here.
Artemisia rolled her eyes, gazing at the two of them.
In the room where sunlight poured in brilliantly, a dreamlike scene unfolded right before her eyes.
The subtle currents lingering between them.
Asherad stared openly only at Daphne, while Daphne gazed solely at her canvas. It was unclear what Daphne was painting. She hadn't sketched anything—she was simply brushing on whatever came to mind.
Artemisia felt a sudden urge to capture the pair on canvas.
She took a fresh look at Asherad. The young divine Emperor, newly ascended to the throne. No one in the empire was unaware of how immense his popularity was.
In particular, every woman of marriageable age dreamed of a romance with him. The hero who had brought the Hundred Years' War to an end, with his striking looks as Crown Prince and that air of refined elegance—his fame preceded him.
No matter what clothes he wore, he carried a picturesque charm.
But to Artemisia, the Crown Prince was just one of her mediocre models.
He felt too much like a painting already, holding no appeal for her whatsoever. A smile measured out with a ruler. Actions so utterly predictable.
For Artemisia, who adored the frail, deficient, and grotesque essence of "humanity" itself, he was an utterly charmless creature.
Yet Artemisia retracted her thoughts about Asherad. The Asherad before Daphne was different. He brimmed over with human warmth.
When Asherad turned to look at Artemisia, she quickly gathered her skirts and bowed.
“The daughter of House Leski greets the master of Pheneios.”
“Come in.”
Asherad smiled gently, adopting a sociable expression. But Artemisia sensed something twisted lurking beneath it.
Her heart pounded. Beneath that upright, kind smile lurked the bloodthirsty killing intent of a beast dying to sink its teeth into her throat...
“Miss Leski, what of the painting I requested?”
“I was just coming to ask your leave on that account. Since you want a specific one, I don't think today's lesson with Miss Daphne will work.”
Escaping this place was the best course. Artemisia flashed a practiced smile, deciding to slip away.
“See you tomorrow, Daphne.”
Daphne looked disappointed. But she glanced at Asherad and gave a small nod.
Watching the Emperor beam with a radiant smile, Artemisia wore a queasy expression.
An Emperor well-informed enough to know she was the painter Arete. Daphne, who seemed awkward around him. She knew she should drop her curiosity, but how could she?
As Artemisia walked down the corridor, she glanced back. By the time she reached her room, she found a visitor there too.
“When the hell are you coming back!”
It was Count Leski. He whined like he was about to burst into tears. What a reliable big brother he made.
“Haven't you finished your paintings yet? Still?”
“It's been done for ages.”
“Then just hurry up and come back. It's hard enough running the family alone. Pleeease.”
Artemisia eyed her pathetic big brother. Less a blood brother, more just her mother's son. Swallowing the urge to curse, she asked,
“What exactly is Miss Daphne to His Majesty?”
“You never listen to anyone else, do you...”
“Wasn't she the woman His Majesty adored?”
Ignored as usual, Count Leski sighed and spoke, just like always.
“You do know that woman's the daughter of that seductress? The one who tricked everyone into thinking she carried the late Emperor's seed.”
“Oh, I've heard of that seductress. So she's her daughter.”
Artemisia was the sort who took interest in others while somehow not.
“Yeah, that seductress nearly toppled the current Emperor's mother and his own position.”
The Count nodded at Artemisia's words. The late Emperor had never made it official, but everyone knew he secretly wanted the Empress gone.
He'd snubbed her at formal events and, while calling Asherad Crown Prince, had never entrusted him with any real duties.
Not once had he publicly praised Asherad.
“Yeah. But that's that—why did His Majesty take Miss Daphne as his lover?”
What intrigued Artemisia wasn't that she was the seductress's daughter, but why the Emperor had made her his lover despite it.
“If she carried the late Emperor's seed, she could've been his half-sister. And before that, she was a threat to his position.”
“Really?”
Oh, how she wanted to smash that dumb face. Artemisia sighed at Count Leski, who couldn't answer the real question.
“The Emperor's weird.”
“Why?”
Count Leski sounded puzzled. Artemisia grimaced and turned away.
“Something's just off about him.”
“He's the hero of Pheneios. Even as Crown Prince, his reputation was spotless. No rough edges, that man—what's he done?”
“Can't trust a damn man.”
Count Leski offered no rebuttal this time.
It was true the current Emperor had his oddities. The late Emperor, who had always disapproved of Asherad, had suddenly collapsed.
Soon after, Asherad marched off to war, leaving Empress Dowager Callista and Duke Turbul to seize control of the court. When the heroic Crown Prince returned, they crowned him with the imperial throne as if they'd been waiting.
“Poor Miss Daphne.”
“Daphne? The seductress's daughter?”
Artemisia recalled Daphne's listless air. She didn't know what she was thinking or her circumstances.
But as the seductress's daughter, she neither fawned on the Emperor nor trampled others arrogantly.
Was that why? She felt a pull toward her—maybe a little, or perhaps a lot more. Like a young beast picked up from the mountains.
* * *
Daphne was looking at Artemisia's paintings. At her offer to show them around, she'd eagerly brought the ones she'd been working on.
The subjects varied. Lotus flowers blooming in a pond, holy images, and more.
“What's this? Wow.”
Sunset over the sea, a wildflower meadow in the forest—Daphne gasped in pure wonder. Life sparkled in those formerly listless blue eyes.
They were all places Daphne had never seen. She looked at another. This one depicted a serene rural village.
“Did you paint this from life?”
Artemisia gave a wry smile at the question.
“No, from imagination.”
“...”
“They say the sea is blue, but I wouldn't know the difference from a lake... Whether sunlight in the forest looks like this, or if I should shade the leaves reflecting green hues—I'm not sure.”
Regret colored Artemisia's words.
When Daphne looked up at her, she smiled and said,
“I'm a noble lady too, so I've never really gone out much.”
“Me neither.”
Daphne chimed in, then covered her mouth. She might not want to be lumped in with her.
But Artemisia simply gazed at Daphne's face. It stirred an odd sense of kinship. Excited, she went on.
“That's why I love painting.”
“Yeah?”
“I can paint whatever I imagine, freely. Myths, heroes' tales. Forests I've never visited, that blue sea they describe.”
“...”
“Painting them eases the frustration. Bringing the scenes from my mind to life with my hands. That's why I love it.”
“...”
“What about you, Daphne? Is there something you want to paint?”
Daphne pondered the question deeply. What did she want to paint? She let out a small chuckle. Then, Artemisia approached a painting that had been covered with a black cloth.
“I painted this.”
Artemisia said softly. In that moment, she felt Daphne would understand her. Even her own mother hadn't.
“Daphne. What are you to His Majesty?”
“...”
“Are you lovers with His Majesty?”
Artemisia unveiled the cloth over the painting. It felt just like the first time she'd shown it to her—hidden from view behind her.
“I haven't told anyone, but I feel like you'd understand.”
She stepped aside from where the cloth had been. The instant Daphne saw the canvas, her face hardened as she stared.
“[Judith Beheading Holofernes]. That's the painting.”
It was a shocking piece. As Daphne stared blankly, Artemisia leaned in close to her ear.
“Paint it too, Daphne.”
Artemisia whispered like a devil. It was a painting fused with rage and hatred.