Chapter 72: Strange Impulses (1)

Gris found the topic uncomfortable. If Adele were to turn the conversation to her and ask if she wanted to marry Dirk, then she would have to reply positively, which in itself was a lie.

The young woman shifted restlessly in her seat. Vianut watched as she anxiously adjusted her posture before gently parting his lips.

“Yes, I’m curious,” he wondered aloud. “What are the feelings of the concerned party?”

At his question, everyone’s eyes became drawn to Gris. She silently breathed under their scrutiny and turned her head as if all the attention had made her woozy. Why did the duke stubbornly insist on agitating her like this? His antics reminded her of a person acting out in order to hide their remorse.

Gris met Dirk’s eyes with confusion. He seemed to read her feelings with concern and chivalrously took the lead.

“I will happily devote the rest of my life to this beautiful woman,” he proclaimed.

Duke Vianut bit his lips at how naturally the words flowed from Dirk’s mouth. At that moment, Gris caught sight of the duke’s jaw muscles stiffening.

Although Dirk laughed effortlessly at his own confession, Gris knew that it was just a mask– a very strong and stable one. Dirk was trying very hard to project confidence in their arrangement despite the uncertainty between them.

Gris suddenly felt a need to see the real face he was hiding underneath his mask. She wanted to seek comfort in knowing he was also recovering from a loss. In a way, she felt like she could endure any future hardship if she stayed beside him.

Dirk’s eyes brimmed with a mix of complicated emotions. His gaze seemed to ask her, “What do you think about me?”

Adele’s mirthful giggles eventually ceased and silence engulfed the room’s occupants. Gris realized then that everyone was still waiting for her answer. She glanced hesitantly at Dirk.

He attentively awaited her answer with his innocent, boyish face. Deep in her heart, Gris knew she did not desire Dirk, but she wanted to reciprocate his feelings nonetheless. His warmth and purity reminded her of the days when she was once a princess. She replied after a long deliberation.

“I feel the same.”

Dirk was delighted to hear her reply. Gris looked at his earnest smile and let out a genuine laugh, a rarity for her these days.

A certain pair of azure eyes that had been observing the whole situation, however, blazed like fire. After only a short period of time in their company, Vianut had reached his limit. He wasn’t quite sure what had caused his emotions to flare.

For a brief moment, his cheeks colored slightly in embarrassment at Gris’ smile. Adele had not noticed the duke’s change in expression and only turned to Gris.

“Really?” her voice was teasing and mischievous. “How many children do you want to have?”

Children. The product of marriage. So-called evidence that a husband and wife loved each other ardently.

Once they were married, Gris will again be obliged to prove her love for Dirk by performing her motherly duties, and everyone knew it. A terrifying scowl was reflected on the Grand Duke’s face, as if he could not bear hearing his fake sister’s plans to have children.

“Adele.”

Vianut’s tone was blunt and commanding.

“Yes, Your Highness?” Adele hurriedly turned her attention to the duke.

“How long does the portrait take to complete?”

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He quickly changed the conversation, leaving no room to return to the previous topic.

“I think it will take about ten days,” she replied. “When I am finished, would you like me to draw a portrait of you as well, Your Highness?”

“No. Draw me now.”

The Grand Duke finished the tea that he had been sipping this entire time and set it down on the table. The maids who had been attending them opened their eyes wide with surprise, as did Adele.

“Pardon?” she stammered. “I heard that Your Highness had tired of being the main subject of so many portraits…”

Adele could not believe her ears but she knew that Grand Duke Vianut was not someone who was likely to jest about anything. His icy eyes fixated sharply on Gris, who was still sitting next to Dirk.

“With Yuliana,” he continued.

Adele nodded as if she understood.

“You’re so considerate. You would want to make memories with your sister before your marriage.”

His lips drew a shallow, gloomy grin.

They agreed to change the backdrop of the portrait from the parlor to the garden and relocated to a nearby bench. Vianut decided that the black butterflies should not be included.

Bright sunlight illuminated her skin, but Gris’ expression was dark. She had a hunch that Vianut didn’t set aside his time in his busy schedule just to sit leisurely with them and have his portrait drawn.

She didn’t know much about his underlying motives, but Gris knew one thing for certain: he wanted Adele to capture her red eyes, not the brown eyes that would have been characteristic of Yuliana. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have come out to such a bright place.

Perhaps tormenting her was his way of killing free time. Gris only looked forward, swallowing her anger and resentment.

Besides the easel, an elegant canopy had been set up alongside a luxurious tea table to block the sun from their eyes.

The servants followed close behind, busily carrying cookies and tea among their other supplies. As the party walked tirelessly along the garden path, they trampled upon the wildflowers, killing them. Gris felt remorse over the lost flowers and bit her lower lip. This was all happening because of Duke Vianut’s command.

Adele observed the pair and complained that the siblings were too awkward. Duke Vianut did not even have the will to pretend to be friendly and only sat silently.

“I’ll leave it up to the ability of the painter,” he said after a while. “Draw Yuliana first.”

Gris quietly sighed. Vianut was truly cruel to insist her red eyes be immortalized in a portrait.

Maybe his actions stemmed from a need to wilt and kill the woman who had driven him to commit a sinful mistake on a chaotic night. If the sole witness to that scandalous conduct was eliminated, then it would be like nothing ever happened.

Gris forgot that her skin was not as tough as others’. She tried her hardest to face her circumstances head-on, but it seemed she was only struggling to make it through each day. She didn’t want to stand against Vianut anymore, and she didn’t want to slowly wither away and die in this place after suffering so many trials and tribulations.

She really wanted to live. Though her existence treaded precariously on the edge of subsistence, she had to survive long enough to meet Johannes.

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