My Husband Lives Inside a Painting Chapter 17

A woman who had lost her husband not long ago, yet secretly sent a gift to another man.

Under the circumstances, it seemed reasonable to assume that the two had an intimate relationship.

But…… she didn’t seem like the kind of person who would go that far.

Then, all of a sudden, Claude found himself feeling ridiculous for even having such thoughts.

“My lord, why have your eyes turned into triangles again? It’s scary when you suddenly make that face.”

“…….”

“I told you not to make expressions like that. Sometimes you even appear in my dreams. Seriously, I woke up in the middle of the night.”

“Shut up.”

Claude had never been so quick to judge another person before, and the unfamiliar sensation soon turned into an unpleasant feeling.

“……It’s bothering me. Annoyingly so.”

“Shall I send someone to investigate even now? If a scandal spreads for no reason, there could be repercussions for House Ortega as well……”

That was why Claude answered Hope’s suggestion without hesitation.

“No. Forget it.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s a hassle.”

All this over a mere painting gift, using every bit of his imagination to come up with all sorts of scenarios.

It wasn’t even funny.

“You seem to think I’m actually a duke or something, but I’m just a figurehead. I never had the authority to monitor or prevent things like that in the first place.”

“But, my lord. It can’t hurt to be careful. If Madam is plotting something……”

Claude slammed his hand against the desk at Hope, who tilted his head as though he still couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling.

“It’s just a painting, Hope.”

His voice filled the room with absolute certainty.

“What, is a painting going to kill someone?”

 

***

 

Historically, the roots of House Pistachio lay in commerce.

Particularly when it came to luxury goods, there was hardly anywhere untouched by their influence. They had amassed enormous wealth and enjoyed the sort of life anyone would envy, all without earning the stigma of engaging in vulgar money games.

……And yet, the person who enjoyed all of that was often the least capable of appreciating its value.

[Pistachio Merchant Guild Remains Silent Despite Quality Controversy…… Still in Second Place]

— “The Empire’s Best Merchant Guild of the Year” Chosen by Imperial Citizens…… Cashew Merchant Guild Takes the Crown. A Record 15 Consecutive Years.

In a survey of 1,000 Imperial citizens conducted to select the “Best Merchant Guild of the Year,” the Cashew Merchant Guild overwhelmingly took first place, accounting for 70% of all responses. Since the results were based on a comprehensive evaluation of factors including scale, distribution stability, and consumer satisfaction, they were regarded as carrying greater significance than a simple popularity contest…… (excerpt)

Meanwhile, the Clodel Merchant Guild ranked third, trailing the Pistachio Merchant Guild by a mere five percentage points.

“……Second place again?”

His voice trembled faintly with rage.

Gail crumpled the newspaper in his hands beyond recognition and threw it onto the floor.

Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!

Under his furious kicks, the face of Count Cashew printed on the newspaper became battered and torn.

“Haah…… damn it!”

Breathing heavily, he collapsed into his chair. He wanted to flip the table over in his anger, but this was the time to determine the cause first.

Gail pressed his temples as he began sorting through the complicated calculations in his head.

What exactly is the problem?

The method Count Pistachio had always adhered to was simple: focus on luxury goods, the exclusive domain of nobles, and accumulate enough wealth without tarnishing the family’s honor.

But Gail’s calculations were different.

If you build up wealth, shouldn’t honor naturally follow?

As a result, the scale of the merchant guild had grown noticeably, but before long, its shoddy quality and inexperienced management had come under fire.

They had expanded too quickly.

In a way, it was only natural.

But Gail found it difficult to accept the harsh criticism.

How hard did I work to get this far…….

The inferiority complex that had only just subsided began to rear its head again.

If Father had been just a little more capable, I wouldn’t have had to struggle this much.

Gail twisted his face in distress and, out of habit, thought of one person.

If I had been born into House Ortega…… I could have played and enjoyed myself without a care in the world, just like Camille.

But that thought suddenly came to a halt, as though it had hit a speed bump.

“……Ah.”

Gail’s lips twisted crookedly.

“Isn’t it a little rude to think this way about someone who’s already dead?”

A strange laugh escaped him.

That’s right!

Even if Camille had possessed that much wealth and honor, what good was any of it once he died?

Regardless of what he had been like when he was alive, it was clear that Gail was now far better off than Camille.

Yeah…… All I have to do is clean up the problems with the merchant guild. I’m alive, so it’s entirely possible.

Nothing had actually been solved, yet he felt as though everything had.

He lifted his glass of whiskey as if celebrating something.

But not long afterward, a sudden report from a servant caused Gail’s brows to furrow.

“……A gift came for me?”

“Yes, my lord.”

It was a peaceful weekend morning.

Gifts like this were a rare occurrence for a man who had no young lady currently involved in a marriage arrangement with him.

“Who sent it?”

“Well, I’m not sure…… Ah, but there was a letter enclosed with it.”

“A letter?”

The servant said nothing, merely holding the letter up reverently with both hands.

Gail scrutinized him suspiciously before reluctantly taking the letter and tearing open the envelope on the spot.

On the pristine white paper, with no sender listed, was clearly written Gail Pistachio’s name.

To Young Count Gail Pistachio.

I regret that I was unable to find an opportunity to introduce my painting to you at the exhibition.

Though it is an immature work, I offer this painting as a token of my respect.

May abundant fortune accompany you on the path ahead.

“……What? A painting?”

A faint floral scent wafted from the letter. It gave him a strange sense of déjà vu, as though he had smelled it somewhere before, but he couldn’t quite remember where.

A tiny spark of curiosity stirred in Gail, and he gestured toward the gift with his chin.

“Open it.”

“Yes. Understood.”

When the white veil covering the canvas was removed, revealing the large oil painting hidden beneath, Gail involuntarily let out an exclamation.

“Oh, this is……!”

An endless field of sunflowers filled the canvas.

But upon closer inspection, something about it was rather crude.

Crude. The brushwork isn’t delicate, either.

Gail narrowed his eyes and carefully examined the painting.

Some flowers were unusually bright, while others were closer to a deep golden hue. The brushstrokes were rough and honest, making the texture of the petals seem almost tangible. And the sky in the background looked as though white paint had been hurriedly spread over a blue base.

For that reason, it was clearly difficult to call it the work of a master.

And yet, he couldn’t take his eyes off it.

Perhaps it was because of…… the small box sitting in the middle of the vast field of flowers.

Why is that there?

It sat there alone, neither buried among the sunflowers nor completely exposed.

Its dark, almost matte color was completely at odds with the cheerful brightness surrounding it.

And yet, that was precisely why it stood out even more.

Gail stared at the painting for a long while before finally managing to part his lips several minutes later.

“So, who sent it?”

“……Pardon?”

“Don’t annoy me by asking me to repeat myself. I’m asking who the artist is. Even if there’s no name on the letter, you received the item directly. You must know something.”

“A-ah!”

Only then did the servant understand what he meant. His face instantly went pale as he hurriedly bowed.

“I-I’m terribly sorry, but I don’t remember very well……”

“What?”

“The carriage arrived without any identifying markings in the first place, so I-I don’t know.”

“Does that make any sense? You simply didn’t look properly!”

“I-I’m sorry!”

After snapping irritably at him, Gail pressed down on his throbbing forehead.

“Haah…….”

Gail was excessively temperamental.

As a result, the servants of the mansion were constantly being replaced, which often left gaps like this one.

But Gail interpreted the situation in an entirely different way.

I need to make more money. Then I can hire truly competent people instead of idiots like these.

Just then, the servant who had been keeping his head bowed cautiously spoke up.

“But…… there is something strange about this.”

“What is?”

“Do artists normally send gifts separately like this? Especially when there isn’t even a single name written on the letter.”

“Hmm…….”

“It just feels unsettling somehow. I think it would be better to throw it away.”

Gail nodded unconsciously at those words.

Right. I’m not even involved with the art world, and I didn’t purchase a single painting at the charity exhibition this time…….

Why would they give a painting to me of all people?

No matter how he thought about it, it was strange.

And yet……

Why is that idiot the one saying something that actually makes sense?