In this era, some treated alchemically made special paints as fakes. Even Violet, who didn’t have much experience or knowledge in the contemporary art world, knew that fact.
With such an atmosphere, someone would undoubtedly criticize or say something about these alchemical paints. However, she didn’t need to concern herself. Times are bound to change.
“Wow. Wow…”
Mary marveled continuously. Watching Mary like that, Violet suddenly asked,
“Do you want to try painting too?”
“What?! Me!?”
In response to Violet’s question, Mary jumped. Her voice, saying, “How could I!” clearly carried curiosity.
“What’s the harm? There are leftover materials.”
“But…”
“Don’t you want to give a handkerchief to someone?”
“Well… Can I really try?”
“Of course.”
Unable to resist Violet’s persuasion, Mary sneakily glanced at the paint. She figured: she had been observing with her eyes for a while now, so she should be able to do well, right?
The brush in Mary’s hand moved swiftly above the cloth. Since she hadn’t professionally learned, her skill was not just amateur but downright clumsy. The small expectation of ‘What if I’m the genius of the century?’ crumbled miserably.
As Violet was guiding Mary as she painted, she couldn’t help but laugh. Mary’s face turned beet red.
“I-I’ll stop. I’ll stop painting!”
“Why? Once we open the paint, we can’t use it anymore. Let’s finish the whole thing.”
“Milady…”
“Is this a drawing of fire?”
“…Flowers, actually.”
Violet laughed again. Mary now looked like she might cry.
“It’s a joke, Mary. It’s your first time, so it’s natural that you might not draw well. Whether it’s embroidery or painting, it’s the thought that counts.”
“Milady…”
Unable to speak before the young lady she served, Mary could only mumble. Violet continued to stroke the girl’s head, smiling.
One should not crush sprouting dreams. Merely saying, ‘You drew well’, was not the entirety of art, and ridiculing someone for not being able to draw was also not acceptable.
If Mary genuinely had thoughts of learning to draw, Violet would have supported her. However, Mary, who was more interested in hair and makeup than drawing, quickly gave up trying to mimic convincingly.
“I did try painting, but I really can’t give it to someone.”
“Why not give it? The thought behind the gift is what matters.”
“Even if there’s thought, what’s the use if the recipient doesn’t like it?”
While Mary grumbled, she cradled the handkerchief with her painted picture carefully in her arms. It seemed she liked the result.
Observing Mary in this way, Violet started drawing on the fabric again. Mary looked at Violet anew, seeing a different aspect compared to embroidering.
The image of her painting like this was picturesque in itself.
“This came out quite well in its own way.”
Violet was satisfied with her second piece, and so she smiled contentedly. Mary, in turn, was impressed by the splendid skill not achievable through embroidery. She stuck out her tongue.
“People will probably imitate you again, Milady.”
“Well, we’ll see.”
“Of course they will. Do you know? All the famous boutiques out there are only displaying dresses imitating the one you wore during the banquet.”
Mary chattered. Knowing the fact that only dresses, not trousers, were selectively hung out, Violet laughed.
There were undoubtedly still people who might criticize the Ducal Lady of Everett. Painting instead of embroidering on a handkerchief—it could be seen as disrespecting tradition.
If the criticism went too far, someone else like the painter Leonardo might emerge. And further, if Violet had not been a noble and was instead a commoner, she might have given up sooner.
However, she possessed the strength and power to disregard any such criticism.
“What does it matter?”
Violet would just get her fingers stabbed if she had embroidered anyway, so she had no intentions of doing it from the start. She snorted.
Regardless of the outcome, she intended to do as she pleased.
.
.
.
And so, several days had passed since Violet drew her first picture on a handkerchief. Time flew by quickly.
During this time, Violet met Aldin, who came to see Cairn, and had a few more conversations.
She also continued her painting sessions with the imperial princess, and she often wondered about Rajaden because he was rarely ever showing his face in the princess’s palace anymore.
Nothing significant happened. However, one day, a strange feeling settled in. It was a foreboding premonition.
Surely, she thought nothing serious would happen.
Violet frowned as she looked at the palette overturned on the floor, with the side containing the paint facing downward.
Tomorrow was the hunting competition, and the premonition of something ominous bothered Violet.
* * *
It’s true that the destination was the same, but Violet didn’t want to travel with her family. So, she chose to ride in a separate carriage.
The hunting competition was set to begin in the afternoon, and they departed very late.
As the lady descended from the dazzling carriage, many eyes instantly focused on her. Violet paid no mind to the attention.
“Oh my, again…”
“It seems trouble has come to House Everett.”
People murmured as they looked at her. Among them, there were those who occasionally asked, “Is the lady also participating in the hunt?”
Violet’s attire, based on equestrian clothing and newly designed, leaned more towards the image of a ‘knight aiming for victory’ than a ‘lady offering a handkerchief’. The ducal lady of Everett paid even less attention to the gazes than the rumors.