Odalisque - Chapter 135

The terrified artist left the drawing room, his shoulders slumped. Watching him depart, guided by a servant, Charles let out a sigh. Every artist who spoke with Dimus seemed to leave in exactly the same way—disheartened and defeated.

“Bring in the next one.”

“That was the last one.”

“The last?”

Dimus raised an eyebrow. The artists had all mumbled something similar to what the previous one had said before being dismissed. Their interactions were so brief that Dimus had no idea how many he’d seen.

Was that really all of them?

Dimus clicked his tongue, glancing at the discarded list. He wanted to learn the technique quickly, but he couldn’t waste time on teachers who couldn’t even articulate their methods properly. He couldn’t expect to find someone as sharp and capable as Liv.

“Bring me another list. This time, make sure they’re more competent.”

“Uh, yes, understood.”

Charles opened his mouth as if to say more but then gave a resigned nod.

Another day had ended without much success. As dusk settled over the Langess estate, the still-blooming roses greeted Dimus upon his return.

Was it just his imagination? There seemed to be more petals scattered on the ground compared to the morning. It felt like they might all wither soon, leaving behind only bare branches.

With a tense face, Dimus turned away from the garden.

Liv hadn’t come today, either.

***

After much difficulty, Dimus finally hired an art teacher. This one had immediately grasped that what Dimus wanted wasn’t “overall improvement in artistic skills” but the ability to create a particular type of artwork.

The studio was set up in one of the smaller villas on Dimus’s private estate, a place that had rarely been used before. With the studio, materials, and teacher all perfectly prepared, Dimus began his lessons in earnest.

But even with all the conditions perfectly in place, progress was not guaranteed.

“Yes, that’s a fine shape you’ve drawn.”

“For a creature, maybe.”

“Well… even when depicting mythical beings, it’s helpful to use human forms as reference…”

“This isn’t a myth; it’s a real human.”

“Oh…”

The art teacher was often left speechless, struggling to find a positive interpretation of the situation.

But unfortunately, Dimus wasn’t a fool. He quickly realized that having a good eye for art was entirely different from having artistic talent—something that became painfully clear within a few days. As long as he had eyes, he couldn’t ignore the stark difference between his and the teacher’s results. Though he didn’t want to admit it, they looked at the same thing but produced very different outcomes.

Eventually, a frustrated mutter escaped Dimus’s lips.

“I don’t understand.”

Since his cadet days, Dimus had been skilled with weapons, and he had excelled academically. He had steady hands and a sharp mind—so why couldn’t he produce results?

Scowling, Dimus glared at the canvas. If his gaze could cut, the canvas would have been shredded by now.

The art teacher, watching Dimus with an exasperated expression, swallowed a sigh. Treating him like a child learning to walk, the teacher forced a smile and patiently went over the basics again.

By the time they had circled back to the first day’s material, the lesson was over.

The art teacher left the villa with a face that looked almost relieved—like a prisoner freed from a dungeon. Dimus briefly considered firing him, simply because he found the man’s expression distasteful. But for now, he decided against it. He had painstakingly sifted through many artists to find this one, and if he dismissed him now, he’d have to endure the tedious process all over again.

His mood had already been on a downward trajectory lately; he had no desire to add more frustrating tasks.

More than anything, why were his hands like this?

Even after the teacher left, Dimus remained seated in front of the canvas. He had intended to draw Liv from memory, but sadly, what he ended up with wasn’t even recognizably human—it was geometric shapes. And even calling it geometric was generous. It was more like a chaotic tangle of lines.

His memory wasn’t the problem. Was it his hands that were failing him? It was absurd that he couldn’t control his hands properly.

Proper technique mattered in any craft. Could it be that the teacher had taught him incorrectly from the start?

Deep in serious thought, Dimus didn’t notice someone approaching from behind until he heard footsteps. Someone had come to fetch him from the villa after the art teacher had left.

“Wait outside.”

Without turning around, Dimus gave a curt command, carefully moving the brush in his hand. He intended to draw a straight line, but what emerged was a slightly crooked diagonal.

…Maybe it was the tools that were the problem.

“I’ll have to replace the materials.”

Even if one could use any type of gun, there was always a particular one that suited best. The same must be true for art supplies.

So, he’d replace the brush, and if that didn’t work, the canvas, and if that still didn’t work…

“Won’t it be the same, no matter what you change?”

Suddenly, a voice spoke up, and a hand reached over Dimus’s shoulder, taking the brush from his grip. The wet tip pressed against the canvas, drawing a clean, straight line.

“I don’t know much about art supplies, but they all look quite luxurious to me.”

Dimus looked up at the familiar voice. The person who had been looking at the canvas with a slight smile turned their gaze to him—eyes as green as lush foliage and lips curved into a soft smile.

“I never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

“…Liv.”

“That you’d pick up a hobby like this.”

Liv’s smile widened, and the sight was so dazzling that Dimus found himself questioning whether she was real or an illusion. Considering he had been thinking about her endlessly just moments ago, it wouldn’t be surprising if this were a hallucination.

Seeing Dimus standing still, not even blinking, Liv’s smile began to fade.

Watching his expression, she spoke in a gentle, calm voice, “The roses at the Langess mansion haven’t withered yet. So you can’t say I’m late.”

“…Half of them have fallen.”

“Oh, you’re exaggerating. I just saw them myself.”

She had seen them herself, meaning she had visited the Langess mansion before coming here. It was an inefficient route, considering Dimus would soon be returning to the mansion. She could have just waited there comfortably instead of coming all the way out here.

Noticing the confusion in Dimus’s eyes, Liv gave an awkward smile.

“I thought about waiting at the mansion, but…”

Pausing, she glanced away, looking somewhat embarrassed.

“It took longer to get here than I expected.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it took me longer than I thought to come here.”

“Be more specific.”

Dimus, who had been dazed, quickly regained his composure. Fixing his gaze on Liv, he insisted on an answer.

“Liv.”

Liv, who had been stalling, hesitantly opened her mouth.

“I wanted to see you sooner.”

It was hard to say it at first, but once she did, the rest came more easily. Her face flushed, but her voice was clear.

“I missed you, Dimus.”

Ah, that was enough.

Dimus wrapped his arm around Liv’s waist, pulling her close.

No matter how clean the studio was kept, the smell of paint lingered.

Perhaps because of that, Liv’s pale body reminded him of a canvas. Her flushed skin seemed like it had absorbed color—like wet paint blending with warm breaths and saliva.

The painting he had tried to create was a mess, but the body beneath him was utterly beautiful.

It couldn’t be more perfect. Whether her skin was pale or flushed with excitement, everything about her was flawless. With a low sigh, Dimus gripped Liv’s ankle.

When he slowly rubbed her ankle bone with his thumb, her thighs quivered, and her body grew wet in anticipation of what was to come. Just looking at her soaked arousal made Dimus’s own excitement swell.