The Stepmother Has Left - Chapter 11

The owner of an art gallery.

 

A nice countryside view from the window.

 

Under the mountains, golden rice fields danced with the rhythm of the wind, like waves of the deep sea. The sound of birds chirping, spreading their wings in the air, awakening humans to nature, and all of this giving them a picture at dusk.

 

There was a gallery there.

 

And she was the owner of it.

 

There were three things that she focused on the most when she left the Duke’s family to find a new home.

 

First, stay as far away from the Duchy as possible.

 

Second, it must be a place where the nobles cannot recognize her.

 

Third, it must be a place where she can easily settle down.

 

After much deliberation, the chosen place was one of the most southern regions was ‘Laurencia’.

 

As an agricultural area, it was a place where mainly older people lived, and it had a typical friendly countryside feel.

 

This was also the place where she and Diana used to visit when they were young.

 

When Diana got married and moved to the Duchy, it was too far away to come. Although it was a familiar place to Cassia, it was quite a distance from the Duke’s mansion. So she bought a gallery just before the ruins with her personal savings.

 

She didn’t even know why she bought it out of the blue.

 

She just felt attracted to it.

 

Maybe it was because the gallery would have fit well in a place like the capital, and it felt a little lonely to see it empty in the countryside.

 

She thought it would be great if she could fill the space.

 

She also liked that it had accommodation and lodging space for the people who manage the gallery, and that’s how she became the owner of the gallery where no one came in the countryside.

 

She needed a little money because she was no longer a Duchess.

 

She didn’t need too much.

 

She only needed to earn enough to make a living.

 

…In fact, according to the contract, it was right for the Duke of Whidrian to provide all the funds now that she chose divorce.

 

But she didn’t want to be like that.

 

She wanted to make her own choices, earn her own money, and live freely. If she had received the funding, it would have felt like continuing to be a part of the Duke’s family even after divorce.

 

This was the rationale for ignoring the clause on the post-divorce situation in the contract.

 

Well, not many people would visit a gallery in the countryside, and she couldn’t make a living out of the remaining money she had. So, she decided to sell coffee and tea in the gallery. It wasn’t a bad idea, as she had run a cafe in the Duchy before.

 

Fortunately, over time, people began to visit regularly. And perhaps, as the gallery was located on the way to the city, it played a part.

 

The scenery of the rice fields dancing beautifully like waves could be seen from the gallery’s windows. People used to stop by the gallery as they travelled for their own reasons.

 

No one knew she was the Duchess of Whidrian.

 

It was a gallery in ruins, but anyway, it was an art museum before, so art pieces wearing hanging here and there on the walls.

 

Cassia lived among the artworks, and one day, she suddenly wanted to paint a picture.

 

‘Since it’s my own gallery, wouldn’t it be okay to paint on my own?’

 

She went out to the city to go grocery shopping and found a small workshop.

 

She bought an easel, canvas, cheap oil paints and brushes, and whenever she had free time, she sat in front of the gallery and moved the brushes casually, painting the cool breeze of a rural village or the countryside painted in gold as the sunset fell.

 

She didn’t even know what to paint. It was neither a portrait nor a landscape. The things she painted were close to abstract paintings. She felt like if she randomly drew a line according to her heart, her mind would calm down. The pictures she painted were hung in the corner of the gallery.

 

Some people, who visited her gallery, started appreciating her paintings.

 

Some had become regular customers because of the advantage of enjoying the scenery or pictures while sipping coffee or tea.

 

Those were peaceful days.

 

Her life was gradually becoming more stable.

 

Then one day, a customer came in.

 

***

 

It was a particularly unfamiliar bell sound.

 

She, who was sitting at the counter, stood up.

 

“Welcome.”

 

A figure caught her eye as she greeted him at the entrance.

 

He was a stranger, who wore a black cloak and a deep hat, and she felt something strange about him from the beginning.

 

Most of the visitors to this place were tourists who were curious about the gallery, ordinary women who enjoyed chatting, or individual customers who enjoyed quietly looking at the scenery.

 

What was clear was that most people were old.

 

From that aspect, this man had a uniquely different presence from ordinary people. A youthful and robust atmosphere emanated from him.

 

She couldn’t even guess who he was because his face was well hidden, but there was clearly power in his steps, the way he walked.

 

Even a sense of luxury did not seem like belonging to a commoner.

 

‘Who is this person?’

 

What was certain was that he wore an outfit that was difficult to find in this secluded place.

 

For some reason, Cassia could smell the scent of a stranger, who didn’t belong here.

 

He slowly approached her and raised his head slightly to look at the menu board.

 

He raised his head and looked surprised.

 

“Menu? I thought it was a gallery…”

 

“I’m also running a cafe. It’s very difficult just with only customers visiting the gallery. As you know, it’s a quiet place.”

 

It was a common question, so Cassia casually answered.

 

First-time visitors and travellers were usually surprised to learn that there was a cafe inside.

 

“I see.”

 

He nodded his head as if he understood quickly.

 

To him, this place seemed to be a secluded countryside, not suitable for having a gallery. After a while, he looked at her and said.

 

She still couldn’t see his face.

 

“Please give me a cup of warm coffee.”

 

“…3500 pennies.”

 

A soft voice echoed through the store. When she answered, he paid for the coffee.

 

Soon, the fragrant smell of coffee began to spread slowly in the gallery.

 

Throughout the coffee making, she kept glancing at him. He was definitely a man who can’t be easily seen here.

 

‘What kind of person is he?’

 

It was also a habit that came from being a gallery owner and welcoming guests.

 

Observing the guests and imagining their stories.

 

She was very curious about the story that person had.

 

Soon she focused on making coffee.

 

It was time to bring out the finished cup of coffee.

 

“Coffee is here…”

 

She couldn’t finish speaking. The man had his eyes fixed on something.

 

What he was looking at was a painting on the wall.

 

It would be no wonder that there were paintings in the gallery, but his gaze was focused on her paintings.

 

She painted and hung the paintings on the wall whenever she had free time.

 

“Those pictures.”

 

A white finger poked out of the hem of the cloak.

 

Cassia turned to the picture.

 

“I’m curious because there’s no name written on it. Who is the owner of this painting?”

 

“…I painted it.”

 

“You?”

 

He looked back at her. Still hidden by the cape, his face was invisible.

 

Sitting in front of her, he spoke in a soft voice and held the coffee cup she gave with his hand, “Oh.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

The hand that escaped through the cape caught her eye.

 

White, neat, wrinkle-free young hands.

 

A hand that never suffered.

 

He approached the painting in earnest with a warm mug of coffee in his hand.

 

As he drank coffee with one hand and the other in his pocket, he began to appreciate the painting.

 

“Have you ever learned to draw?”

 

“….No. It’s just something I painted and hung when I had time. Maybe because it’s a gallery, I wanted to draw on my own, too. Since it’s my hobby… I’m not good at it, right?”

 

As it is a gallery, many people showed interest in paintings. People who came to drink coffee used to look at the paintings.

 

But among the many paintings, it was the first time anyone showed interest in her paintings.

 

It was a little disconcerting, but also exciting.

 

To be honest, she wasn’t really into painting.

 

Even though she was from a family that was no different from commoners, it was not that she did not learn painting as a child, but because it was a very short learning that could not be remembered forever.

 

Before Diana got married, Cassia went to an art museum with her or visited an art museum for social gatherings when Diana was a duchess, but Cassia only had basic knowledge.

 

It was like being a stranger to art.

 

“You mean you drew this as a hobby?” He looked at her in surprise again.

 

“It’s too much to say that you drew them as a hobby… I think I drew them well.”

 

“…Thank you. Actually, I was thinking about taking it off because it didn’t seem to go well with the other paintings.”

 

It wasn’t intentional, but all the drawings she drew were achromatic. She couldn’t get her hands on the bright colors because she had lived a splendid life in the past years.

 

As the number of paintings increased one by one, she felt that the cozy gallery looked darker, and she was contemplating whether to just discard it.

 

“Why?”

 

He shook his head. “I think the picture is really good.”

 

“Doesn’t the gallery look a bit drab?”

 

When asked gently, he shook his head again. He continued looking at the pictures carefully.

 

“It is a painting using achromatic colors, but if you look closely, it is not so gloomy. The colors are dark, but the expressed brightness is different in each of them. That makes the pictures gorgeous. There, the straight lines give rise to splendor.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“These are beautiful pictures. That’s what I’m trying to say…”

 

Realizing that he was talking too much, he paused for a moment and looked back at her.

 

“You look talented.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

At his compliments, Cassoa blurted out. It was because she felt that his praise was sincere.

 

It was the first time she had ever received a compliment of this kind, so she scratched my head in the sense of embarrassment. He approached her and put down the empty cup before her.

 

“… I’ll often stop by.”

 

With those words, he disappeared. Turning around, the fluttering cloak remained before her eyes.

 

She listened for a moment to the rattle of the bell, as the door closed.

 

She felt vague.