Chapter 14

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 14

Chapter Title: The Apprentice Challenge

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Lunchtime stretched out much longer than I'd expected.

Ashley wiped the tears still brimming in her eyes as she crossed the corridor.

The damp handkerchief felt incredibly soft, as if reflecting the gentle nature of its owner, April.

'No one's ever said anything like that to me before.'

Ashley gazed down at her dirty, paint-stained hands. Had there ever been a day when the paint on them had fully dried?

For eighteen years now, she'd been apprenticed under Sir Robid, and somewhere along the way, she'd grown more accustomed to disdain than recognition.

Every year, the new young apprentices who arrived were all more talented than her, and as if by some pact, they mocked her work without fail.

She'd even wondered if she should give up on her dream of becoming a painter...

'But I couldn't let it go.'

The moment she stood before a blank canvas, those thoughts vanished entirely, and her smoldering passion reignited time and again.

Presumptuous as it was, she'd tagged along to the Brail Duchy on a vain hope that she might catch a noble's eye and gain a patron.

"I'm a huge fan of Ashley's incredible 'directing skills."

April's words pierced her like thorns.

Perhaps no one had doubted "Ashley Barnes" more than Ashley herself—that realization hit her hard.

"Sniff, sob..."

Once her tears subsided, she tucked the handkerchief carefully into her bosom and headed into the atelier reserved for apprentice painters.

And, as expected, she ran into the last person she wanted to see right at the entrance.

"What'd you two talk about?"

A man approached her with obvious delight, as if he'd been waiting all along, wearing a strange expression.

"...Berimore."

Ashley averted her eyes and stared at the floor.

Berimore was the most skilled among the apprentices, a prodigy who'd been called a genius since his academy days.

He was still stuck as an apprentice only because of his youth, living in a completely different world from Ashley, who'd languished in apprenticeship for eighteen long years.

"I asked what you talked about."

Berimore's quiet voice carried a subtle malice.

In truth, he couldn't fathom why Sir Robid kept a failure like Ashley on as a disciple.

He believed her inferior skills tarnished the great painter's reputation, so he'd taken the lead in bullying her for quite some time now.

Maybe that's why—Ashley always shrank back in his presence, but she forced her mouth open.

"She asked me to handle the directing."

"Oh, really? I thought maybe..."

Pfft.

A blatant scoff followed, and his next words boomed loud enough for everyone to hear.

"I was worried that sweet Lady might actually sponsor you or something."

"......"

Ashley squeezed her eyes shut.

For any artist, the most crucial factor was whether they had a patron backing them.

The greater and wealthier the noble sponsor, the smoother their path to success; without one, they were ignored and faded into obscurity.

In fact, every apprentice gathered here was desperate to snag a big fish like the Duke of Brail.

So when word got out that Ashley had been summoned alone by a lady connected to the Duke, this kind of rivalry was somewhat understandable.

With no response from Ashley for a while, Berimore let out a sleazy chuckle.

"Anyway... directing, huh? Congrats. Seems perfect for you."

"Uh, y-yeah. Thanks."

Ashley didn't want to exchange another word with Berimore, who was openly trampling her dignity, so she forced a smile and brushed past him.

But even then, his sharp mockery stabbed at the back of her head.

"Keep at it, Ashley! Stick it out another twenty, thirty years, and maybe you'll get your own exhibit. In some backwater village market, at least."

Bwahaha!

Laughter erupted from the other apprentices who'd been watching the scene.

'No.'

But Ashley's eyes hardened with resolve as she walked away without looking back.

'You wouldn't get it, but from now on, I'm going to do what I'm good at.'

Her steps forward didn't waver like they usually did.

My day became busier than ever.

Now that I'd accidentally gotten roped into seriously helping with the comic production, I spent more time in meetings than holed up in my room.

Hiding my fatigue behind a determined gaze, I slowly scanned the room.

Not just the three master painters and Ashley, but every apprentice summoned from the castle was gathered here.

"The reason I called you all here today is to elect an apprentice representative."

At my words, Ashley's head drooped toward the floor. She must have felt even more burdened after I'd tipped her off beforehand that I'd push for her.

But the more I interacted with her, the more her meticulous and delicate nature impressed me positively.

Whew. After a deep breath, I raised my voice again.

"As the person to lead overall adaptation and directing alongside Sir Brown, Sir Robid, and Sir Kedric up front, I'd like to nominate Ashley."

No sooner had I finished than murmurs of discontent rippled through the apprentices.

"Lady, I have an objection."

Finally, one man with a sour expression raised his hand and stood.

As all eyes turned to him, I recalled his name was Berimore and nodded.

"Yes, go ahead."

He immediately pointed at the awkwardly standing Ashley and spoke up.

"There must be some misunderstanding... Ashley's never even completed a proper painting. How could an amateur like her lead a group of her betters? That's impossible."

It was outright public humiliation.

Of course, the three masters would go along with most requests out of deference to the Duke of Brail behind me, but on matters of skill, they had no counterargument and just coughed awkwardly.

And Ashley... her clenched fists trembled pitifully.

Murmur, murmur.

As the painters' whispers grew louder,

Clap! I clapped my hands to refocus their scattered attention.

"You're right, that does make sense."

Pushing it forcefully would only leave Ashley isolated with no cooperation—in fact, she'd face even more scorn.

So, I'd have to create a chance for her to prove herself.

Misinterpreting my words, Berimore brightened.

"Then we should change the representative..."

"Yes, I'd like to take your opinion into account. But first..."

I scanned the room once more, then fixed my gaze straight on Ashley.

"Let's have the Duke judge whether a comic drawn by Ashley alone is better than one you all collaborate on. We'll decide the representative based on that result."

"L-Lady!"

Ashley, who'd been silent until now, cried out in a shrill voice.

But even that was ignored, drowned out by Berimore jumping in midway.

"Perfect! I think that's the fairest way."

To him, this was a golden opportunity.

A rare chance to show his work directly to the Duke, bypassing the famous masters.

I glanced at the confident Berimore and announced sternly, loud enough for all to hear.

"But once the results are out, accept them cleanly. If there's any backtalk after, you'll have to leave the duchy."

A heavy silence fell, deathly still.

But excluding the stunned Ashley, it was as good as everyone's agreement.