Odalisque - Chapter 32

It was a clearer rejection than before. At Liv’s words, Camille drooped his eyebrows and pretended to cry.

“Oh, Teacher Rodaise, I hope you don’t hate me.”

“As I’ve told you before, we haven’t known each other long enough for me to have such strong feelings.”

Liv’s clear boundary-setting finally stopped Camille from asking any more bold questions. He nodded with a subtle smile, lightly brushing his lips.

“I see.”

Even so, he couldn’t help but add, “Still, you’re the only acquaintance I’ve made since arriving in a foreign land, so it’s a bit disappointing. If we happen to meet like this sometimes, I’d be glad to share a chat. I know a lot of interesting stories about the social world, from trivial gossip to behind-the-scenes tales about notable figures like the Marquis.”

Camille ended on a somewhat mischievous note, scrunching his nose playfully. Liv hesitated momentarily, then finally spoke slowly, “Alright, then.”

The Marquis Camille referred to was likely Dimus Dietrion. The stories Camille could tell were probably unreliable rumors at best, but… she couldn’t deny her curiosity. At the very least, he might provide more credible information than Million.

In some way or another, Liv wanted to know more about the Marquis.

***

A period of peaceful days followed.

Though Liv still couldn’t leave the house in the evenings, Corida’s medicine was well-stocked, and Million’s lessons ended before sunset, so it wasn’t a problem.

She felt some concern about the upcoming nude painting session or any extra work that would require her to return home at night, but she reassured herself that they would provide a carriage for such occasions.

It was an uncertain trust, but the Marquis had already dealt with a thug for her once. She felt confident that he wouldn’t stand by if she were in danger again.

So Liv waited patiently for the next session date.

…She didn’t expect to hear such news on the day itself.

“We can’t proceed with the session this week?”

In an hour, the carriage was supposed to arrive at the designated location to pick them up. That’s why Liv had come to meet Brad at the studio, but unlike usual, he wasn’t preparing for departure at all.

Instead, he simply said they wouldn’t be working today.

“Yes.”

“Did the Marquis allow this?”

Seeing Liv’s shocked face, Brad nodded awkwardly. “I sent a letter yesterday. I don’t know if it reached him, though.”

Liv narrowed her eyes. She had known Brad for a long time, long enough to tell when he was distracted by something else.

“…Brad, this isn’t an ordinary painting session. You’ve been so diligent lately; why the sudden change?”

Just last week, Brad had confidently claimed he would finish the painting soon.

Not only that, but he had often indulged in daydreams about himself with the Marquis as his official patron, ignoring whatever Liv said to him.

“Is something wrong?”

“I’m just feeling unwell today.”

That was a poor excuse. Brad was the kind of person who proudly boasted about not catching a cold even when he wore just a thin layer in the dead of winter.

“Don’t lie.”

Instead of responding, Brad pulled out a grimy handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He then kept fiddling with it nervously, his eyes shifting restlessly.

The sight reminded Liv of a past incident—the day he broke their agreement and painted a nude portrait that included her profile.

“Brad.”

“…If the carriage arrives, could you tell them for me? Just say I’m too sick to work.”

“At least be honest with me.”

“Liv…”

Brad looked up at her with a pitiful expression, silently pleading her not to ask further. But Liv couldn’t let it go so easily.

This was a painting for Marquis Dietrion, not just any ordinary commission. They were creating a replacement for the painting he had purchased, and Brad was receiving all sorts of support to ensure the work went smoothly. It wouldn’t benefit anyone to act recklessly at this point.

Perhaps understanding Liv’s determination to get an answer, Brad sighed heavily and finally spoke, “To be honest, if I finish the painting quickly, it puts me in a bit of a bind.”

“A bind?”

“Yeah. I need to sign a patronage contract before completing the painting.”

“A patronage contract?”

Liv frowned. She had a vague feeling that Brad had gotten himself into trouble again.

“I hinted at it to that aide, but there’s been no response. If I finish the painting now, I’ll lose my connection to the Marquis.”

Brad licked his dry lips and began to ramble.

“As long as I’m working on the painting, I have a reason to meet the Marquis. If I can somehow get his attention during this time, maybe he’ll sign a patronage contract with me.”

In other words, Brad had expressed his desire to receive patronage from the Marquis but had been ignored. If he finished the painting now, he would lose his excuse to meet the Marquis, and that was problematic for him.

He was trying to secure the Marquis’s patronage before completing the painting.

Seeing Liv’s stunned expression, Brad hastily added more explanation, “Even if it’s not the Marquis himself, he might connect me to another good patron who recognizes my talent. That would be enough! I’m sure he could at least do that much!”

It seemed Brad wasn’t solely fixated on the Marquis’s patronage; he was more interested in securing a “patronage contract” itself.

“Why do you need a patronage contract?”

Brad, who had been babbling incoherently, clamped his mouth shut at Liv’s question. Beads of sweat formed again on his forehead. Observing his reaction, Liv narrowed her eyes.

“Is it gambling again?”

“No! Of course not!”

Brad’s denial came swiftly. The sincerity on his face, along with his vigorous head-shaking, made Liv believe it wasn’t about gambling this time.

“Then what is it?”

Though it wasn’t gambling, there was clearly another problem. When Liv pressed him further, Brad hesitated for a while before cautiously speaking up.

“Actually… I recently got to know a very famous businessman. He’s based in the capital. He said he could help sell my paintings or even arrange a solo exhibition in the capital if I wanted!”

Initially hesitant, Brad’s voice grew more animated toward the end. He watched Liv’s reaction, his eyes expectant, clearly hoping she would be impressed.

Unfortunately, Liv was far from impressed.

She was surprised, but not in the way Brad hoped. When she heard the word “businessman,” the first thing that came to her mind was “swindler.”

Surely not…

Liv couldn’t just accuse someone without knowing the full story, so she calmly asked, “How did you meet someone like that?”

“Well…”

Brad closed his mouth again, clearly reluctant to answer. Liv’s gaze turned sharper.

“You didn’t mention our work, did you…?”

“No way! I may be careless, but I know better than to break a promise!”

Surely, even Brad wouldn’t be foolish enough to mention the Marquis by name. If he had, the Marquis would have likely noticed and taken action already.

“I just mentioned in passing, after a few drinks, that I was about to receive support from a wealthy noble. That person happened to be looking for an artist to invest in and heard about me!”

Come to think of it, Camille had mentioned something similar. He said Brad had been boasting lately about meeting an incredible patron.

If even Camille, who wasn’t particularly close to Brad, knew about it, then it must have spread to some extent among those in the same circle.

It wasn’t hard to imagine how Brad must have been carrying himself.

Liv held her head, which was starting to throb, and sighed heavily. Seeing her blatant exasperation, Brad looked embarrassed and cleared his throat.

“But since I haven’t officially debuted yet, I need some kind of guarantee to prove my skills… like a certificate.”

“…He’s willing to sell your paintings, but he wants an artist with a patron? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Why would a patron even be necessary for an artist?

Despite Liv’s pointed question, Brad shook his head resolutely. It was a drastic shift in attitude from someone who had been so desperate to make the Marquis his patron just a short while ago.

“These days, relying entirely on a patron is risky. Depending on a patron like in the past could be disastrous! Besides, he said I could have a solo exhibition in the capital! I’ve already paid the venue fee…!”

“The venue fee? If he’s arranging the exhibition, why are you paying the venue fee? Wait, do you even have that kind of money?”

Liv’s tone was incredulous. How could someone who spent every penny he earned at gambling dens and taverns have that kind of money?

Brad’s face flushed bright red, and he raised his voice in protest.

“Liv!”