Odalisque - Chapter 2

The fingers buried between her hair tensed slightly. Biting down on her lower lip, she answered in a low voice, “We agreed you’d only paint my back.”

“I know, I know… I could make it so no one would recognize you. Or maybe just sketch the outline of your profile a bit?”

“No.”

While she could still deny involvement if only her back was painted, having her face revealed would change everything.

“Ah, what a pity.”

Brad murmured as if to himself, clicking his tongue softly. However, he didn’t push further. Perhaps he thought that insisting might lead to her refusing even the back pose. She tried her best to remain composed, listening to the scratching sound of the pencil.

No matter how many times she had done it, undressing never became easy. Holding a steady pose was hard, but even harder was controlling her imagination during those long moments. It was the kind of imagination that led her to thoughts like: What if someone around me finds out about this? What if I get fired from my job because of it? What if I end up needing even more money than I do now?

At the end of that tangled thread of worries, there was Brad’s moderately heavy pouch of money—enough to give her peace of mind for a few months. She thought of it again today. It was the only way to endure the unfamiliar atmosphere of the studio, which made her want to hastily grab her clothes.

“Hey, Liv, your waist.”

She unconsciously straightened her waist and quickly relaxed it. Known for her unyielding posture—often referred to as a living model of discipline—she instinctively held herself straight unless she was making a conscious effort to relax. But Brad didn’t want the posture of a proper lady.

What he wanted to draw was her disheveled, bare form. Not a straight back or perfectly aligned shoulders, but loose, almost cascading hair or a delicately twisted waist.

For such poses, courtesans might have been more fitting. They worked tirelessly to maintain beautiful forms. That was why they were typically chosen as nude models. Compared to them, her stiff shoulders must seem mundane and unimpressive.

She found herself lowering her head slightly without realizing it. The words “nude painting” made her feel small. It felt as though goosebumps were rising on her arms.

She inadvertently turned her head slightly, looking at her bare arm. Without much movement, she could see her exposed forearm. It was relatively smooth and pale, an effect of her obsessive efforts to keep her skin covered.

It was laughable. No matter how much she tried to present herself as virtuous on the outside, she was willing to shed her outer layers so easily for a few coins.

“Liv.”

Suddenly, Brad called her name, causing her to turn her head instinctively. The scratching sound of the pencil had stopped. Brad seemed to be working up to saying something, lips moving as if searching for the right words. Or perhaps it was as if he had nothing to say but was trying to force something out anyway.

“Brad?”

“Ah, yes. Well… um.”

“Do you have something to say?”

Brad nodded, but despite indicating he wanted to speak, he hesitated. He would say it if he felt ready. She turned her head to correct her previously collapsed posture, but Brad hurriedly called out again.

“Liv!”

“Say it.”

“No, just… Look at me for a second.”

Unease flickered across her face. She frowned, resting her chin on her shoulder, watching Brad.

“…You’re not planning on drawing my face, are you?”

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

Brad, though unreliable in appearance, had always kept his word. He had always paid her model fee promptly on the day, never toyed with the amount, and never disclosed that she was the model for his nude paintings. Knowing that, she had agreed to model for him.

Actually, saying she agreed wasn’t entirely correct. It would be more accurate to say Brad had felt pity for her situation and subtly suggested it, while she, pretending to help him, had barely salvaged herself from her circumstances.

Whatever the process had been, today felt strange. Perhaps it was because Brad, unlike himself, was dressed too cleanly today. She looked over Brad again, scanning his expression.

Was it the distance? Brad looked unusually pale.

Despite the moderate temperature in the studio, sweat was trickling down Brad’s face. He finally seemed to have found the words he wanted, raising his voice brightly.

“I, um, added a little extra today!”

“…The model fee?”

Brad pitied her, but that pity had never made her pockets heavier. She had always received a standard amount—the same rate paid to other models. She’d never really been dissatisfied with it.

Seeing her confused expression, Brad quickly explained, “You said Corida’s birthday is coming up, right? I figured money would be better than a gift.”

Money was indeed better than a gift, if he truly meant to celebrate Corida’s birthday.

Though she couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease, she said nothing more. She couldn’t refuse his offer, even in jest, because Corida’s birthday was indeed approaching. Despite her meager means, she wanted to buy a small birthday gift. Thinking of Corida, who would be waiting for her at home, she decided to ignore the uncomfortable feeling in her chest.

In the end, she gave a quiet thank-you. Brad went on about Corida’s health and the recent weather, continuing a meaningless conversation. He even added an excuse, saying that he thought she seemed tense, and wanted to chat for a while.

She gave brief responses but mostly stayed silent, listening to Brad. After a while, during a slight pause in the conversation, she asked quietly, “You haven’t forgotten your promise to keep the model’s identity a secret, right?”

“Huh? Of course not!”

Brad nodded vigorously. After a moment, he said they had taken too long a break and urged her to resume her pose so he could continue drawing.

She silently raised her arms. Though her bare body had long gone cold, the chill in the air remained. The sharp gaze on her skin hadn’t disappeared either.

She decided to just close her eyes.

***

“Teacher Rodaise, thank you for your work today.”

“The pleasure is mine. I’m grateful for the opportunity to teach Miss Million. She is so bright that I eagerly look forward to our meetings.”

“Today’s lesson seemed to end a bit early. Would you like to stay for tea?”

Liv smiled, her eyes curving gently. Today, she especially remembered Corida, who had seemed sad about her leaving, but she didn’t show it.

“Thank you for the kind offer.”

Parents who entrusted their children to tutors often hoped for significant progress after even a single lesson. Even when such hopes were unrealistic, Liv felt it was her duty to honor their wishes.

Handling parents was as important as teaching children for a tutor.

Liv adjusted her bonnet, recalling how rude and arrogant many of the parents she had dealt with had been. The lady in front of her was, by contrast, a rather pleasant person.

Getting a job in the Pendence family had been a stroke of luck. Million Pendence, the baron’s only daughter, was cheerful and kind-hearted, and her parents, Baron and Baroness Pendence, were dignified people.

Compared to a certain count’s family, who demanded the impossible and then conveniently violated their contract, delaying three months’ worth of payment, the Pendences were well-mannered and fair. Had she not secured this job, Liv’s circumstances would have become dire, but here, things were finally stabilizing.

Liv frowned slightly as she remembered the shameless count’s family, who had consistently evaded her demands for overdue payment. It had been foolish of her to be naive just because they were a noble family. Their so-called noble reputation had been a facade. Their constant gambling and extravagant spending were clearly taking their toll on their finances.

“Teacher Rodaise?”

“Ah, yes.”

“Is there anything you can’t eat?”

“No, nothing in particular.”

“I see. We received a gift this morning, and I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

Liv had been about to say that she would eat anything, but instead, she simply smiled.

The Pendence family was wealthy. She could tell even from the light refreshments served during Million’s lessons. Million often complained about them being store-bought, but they were the most popular—and most expensive—snacks from the city’s finest shop.

Whatever they served now would likely be even fancier, something Liv might not get the chance to taste again in her life.

“This way, please.”

The kind baroness guided her along, but as they walked, a commotion could be sensed among the servants. It didn’t seem related to preparations for the baroness’s tea.

Liv subtly glanced at the flushed faces of the servants. A middle-aged woman, likely one of the senior staff, approached the baroness to whisper something.

“Good heavens, is that true?”

The baroness, seemingly forgetting that Liv was with her, let out a loud exclamation. She appeared ready to say more but, realizing Liv’s presence a moment too late, her expression turned awkward.