Chapter 86

“You are…”

The priest only stared at the man, and did not recite scripture or weep in lamentation as the others did. The priest, dropping to one knee and making eye contact, looked at the man for a long moment before turning to his mother. The priest’s clean, white hand stroked the man’s mother’s pale, blackened cheek.

“Why did you choose to go with this?”

The priest’s muttering was vague. But somehow the man managed to get the implied meaning. Just as that priest realized something when he looked at him without having to say it out loud.

His mother wasn’t praying to God. She was waiting.

For the man in front of them.

She was sure her death would bring her to meet the person she was waiting for, thus why she made such a peaceful face.

The priest offered a belated prayer for his mother’s soul. He then held out his hand to the man. It was quite common for priests to take in poor war orphans, so no one thought it was strange. The priest seemed to have a fairly good standing within the Order, and provided decent support for the man.

The war was still raging everywhere at this moment, and the way for someone from an uncertain background to succeed quickly was to grab weapons.

Luckily, the man had good skills. He, who barely scraped by as a village woman’s son, enrolled in a military academy.

“Let the death that abounds in this land save you.”

Said the priest upon seeing the acceptance letter.

“If this is your calling, give it your best shot. God must have brought you to me, for when you ascend to a glorious place, there will certainly come a worthy reward.”

On that day, the man realized how high the position the priest was aiming for.

Also why he had never appeared in front of his mother before.

The man, who took on his mother’s striking features, realized that his essence resembled his father’s.

***

The painting work was temporarily suspended.

The reason was ostensibly for the painter’s health. The painter, whose name was Brad, was deeply relieved when the Marquis readily accepted his lame excuse. He seemed to believe that he was deeply trusted.

Demus could tell at a glance that the painter was a tactless, airheaded human being, but seeing him relax in a situation where he would have been skeptical before, he seemed really distracted.

Well, he must have fallen hard on the fire.

Demus tossed the report on Brad’s whereabouts onto the desk.

“How foolish.”

His aide, Charles, who brought the report, said in a worried tone.

“He might run away before the contract is up.”

“Just let him be. It’s convenient to not have to do anything.”

There were many people like Brad around Demus. People who showed off as if they had a great relationship with him after just one or two meetings or conversations.

In most cases, they had similar aspirations.

Either the money he had, or the way he looked, or the background and connections he seemed to have.

So did Brad. It wasn’t hard for Demus to see through him the first time they met.

Honesty, it was just plain obvious. Brad had been rejected from art shows so many times, but he couldn’t come to terms with his skills and spent his time futilely. He also loved to drink and gamble, so it was easy to bribe him with money.

Worse, he wasn’t trustworthy. When he realized that his paintings were showing promise of selling periodically, he broke his promise to Liv and did his best to paint her face.

Perhaps Brad had kept the nude model’s identity a secret for so long, not because he was a loyalist, but because he couldn’t find anyone other than Liv to model for him, an unskilled painter.

“Are you not going to take action against him?”

“Do I have to?”

The syndicate that Brad had become entangled in was not an easy one. Even if Demus didn’t do anything, they wouldn’t leave Brad alone.

Now that they had gotten him to borrow money, they would do whatever it took to get it back. Even if that method was overly cruel.

“Have you told her?”

Under Demus’ gaze, Adolf spoke up.

“Yes, but…”

It was Adolf who broke the news to Liv that Brad’s work had been temporarily suspended. It wasn’t his job, but it couldn’t be helped as he needed to send someone Liv trusted the most.

“She appears to be worried that she won’t get the promised painting back if the work comes to a complete stop.”

Demus raised an eyebrow at Adolf’s words.

“Oh, that painting.”

Thinking back to the nude painting he had hung in his basement, Demus was silent for a moment.

Truthfully… He never intended to give it back in the first place. Although he had signed a contract, it wouldn’t be hard to make it void.

“She hasn’t given it up yet, huh?”

He thought she had forgotten about the painting.