Portrait of An Arrogant Master - Chapter 79

The Duke took Macy to an empty guest room in the Baron’s residence. Acting as if he was the owner of the Shearton estate, he summoned servants and gave them instructions, leading them to bring in Macy’s easel and painting supplies.

“What’s this about…?”

“You mentioned that the portrait session was problematic because I didn’t pose as the model.”

“Yes, that’s true, but…”

The Duke sat in a chair brought by the maid, reclining comfortably against the backrest.

“Go ahead.”

“Now? Here…?”

“Is there a problem?”

“No, not at all! Yes, I’ll paint!”

Macy quickly shook her head and got to work, taking her seat hurriedly. She figured she could sketch his face here and later transfer it to the portrait in the cabin. But…

“Duke… could I ask one more thing?”

“Speak.”

The Duke’s half-lidded eyes exuded a strong sense of fatigue, as if he wanted to get this over with and rest.

“Could you smile a little?”

His brows furrowed slightly. Even without expression, his face already looked intimidating; adding a scowl made the atmosphere even more intense.

Macy’s eyes widened in alarm, and she quickly looked down.

“Since this is a portrait for the engagement ceremony, it would be great to capture a warm and affectionate atmosphere between you two…”

“…”

“Um… the engagement is a solemn ceremony that promises future marriage, so it would be better if you paid a bit more attention…”

Macy kept trying to persuade him, desperately moving her lips. The Duke watched her with a flat gaze.

“If it’s too difficult, just a hint of a smile…”

“Is this enough?”

He spoke calmly as if it was no trouble at all. A charming smile appeared on his otherwise cold face.

“Yes, that’s perfect!”

Although it wasn’t a particularly affectionate expression, it was a splendid smile suitable for public occasions. Macy carefully continued to sketch his features, noting the sleek hair, the elongated eyes, the sharp nose, and the subtle smile—all adding to his refined elegance.

Despite his small face, his shoulders appeared unusually broad, and his slender waist was graceful. Even with his legs crossed, Macy had to draw for a while before reaching the ends of his shoes.

If someone who didn’t know the Duke in person saw this portrait, they might think Macy had exaggerated the proportions intentionally because they seemed almost unreal.

Macy was momentarily stunned by the Duke’s smile. She had never seen him smile before, and it surprisingly suited him well, contrary to her expectations. His smile seemed so perfect that it almost appeared as if a radiant halo was glowing behind his head, making him look more like a deity than a mere mortal.

“Is this how it always is?”

“Pardon?”

While Macy continued her work, admiring him inwardly, the Duke suddenly spoke up without much preamble.

“You were looking at me the same way on the Romansi bridge.”

The Duke remembered that day.

No, he even recalled the exact expression Macy had while looking down at him from the bridge.

“D-Do you remember me? I don’t quite recall how I looked…”

“You seemed ready to drop your jaw.”

The blunt description made Macy’s face turn red. The Duke continued to smile.

Though Macy had been deeply impressed by his appearance that day, she hadn’t realized that others might perceive it so strongly. She felt a bit embarrassed, as if her inner thoughts had been exposed.

“Do you always look at people like that when you’re painting?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve only just started painting portraits. I haven’t heard such comments before…”

It was difficult to articulate her thoughts. Standing in front of the Duke made her feel an unfamiliar pressure, affecting her ability to think clearly.

“Why did you paint that portrait?”

Macy flinched at the sudden question. Was the model merely an excuse, and was he intending to interrogate her?

Her hand holding the pencil began to tremble with sudden anxiety. Her neck stiffened, and her muscles tensed. She tried to find a plausible excuse, but it felt as if the Duke could see right into her mind.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to blame you. I’m simply curious.”

“U-Um, it’s because you’re the most handsome…”

“What?”

The Duke seemed not to have heard her due to her soft voice and asked again.

“You’re handsome, Duke! You’re beautiful!”

He was the only one who didn’t quite fit with the flower viewing, standing out as an incongruous figure. This unique and striking beauty was why she painted him.

She hoped to downplay it by saying she merely found him handsome and avoided lengthy explanations, wanting him to believe she painted him without much thought.

But, fearing he might not hear her, she ended up raising her voice, which echoed more loudly than she had expected.