Chapter 15

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 15

Chapter Title: Rivalry Among Apprentices

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"Pfft, this is gonna make things way too easy."

Berimore burst into loud laughter, his foot propped up on an easel, and immediate echoes of agreement rang out.

"Right? She must've taken her side just 'cause they're both women."

"Ashley's always been the best at playing the pity card. If it weren't for her skills—or lack thereof—she would've been kicked out ages ago."

"Every time I think about how that talentless hack dragged all of us down, I get so mad I kick off the covers in my sleep!"

At some point, the apprentice artists had gathered around Berimore, seizing the moment to vent their spite with renewed fervor.

In truth, it was no different from unloading the stress of their endless competition under their master's shadow onto Ashley.

Berimore egged on the toxic atmosphere, grinding his teeth as he muttered.

"Master's been way too lenient with her all this time."

"Exactly. It almost made me wonder if she was some hidden daughter or something."

Everyone chimed in with mocking laughter, but one apprentice sitting beside Berimore spoke up in a sly tone.

"But that's all over now. Time to settle things fair and square with actual skill."

Sparks flew from the apprentices' eyes in an instant.

They might be grinning at each other now, but they were still rivals at heart.

Berimore had only stepped up as the ringleader to rally the group—he had no intention of actually teaming up with anyone.

"I think we should emphasize the background here."

Seizing the chance, a landscape specialist among them jumped in.

"What're you talking about? The figure's the star. What good's fussing over the background?"

"Shouldn't we depict this figure a bit more abstractly?"

"That's nonsense. Realism is what'll make it more dramatic."

Berimore watched the heated debate intensify before standing up.

"Let's each do what we're best at. We can each take one cut we're confident in, right? Since I'm the best artist here, I'll handle this scene."

The scene Berimore claimed was the most pivotal one—the heart of the piece.

The other apprentices scowled in discontent at losing the prime cut, but none dared complain first.

"Then I'll take this one."

"Hold on, that's more my—"

Ashley, watching the squabbling apprentices from a distance, turned away without a word.

There had never been a place for her there in the first place.

She'd thought maybe this time she could compete with them on equal footing. But she'd just realized it was all wishful thinking.

As she stepped outside, a familiar figure waited by the door.

"Ah, Lady...!"

"You okay?"

"Pardon?"

April, standing with Bonita, furrowed her brow in feigned concern.

The apprentices' voices had been loud enough to carry their crude gossip all the way to her in the hallway.

"They were all going at it pretty hard. I figured it'd be tough on you, Ashley."

"I, um..."

Ashley couldn't hide her flustered expression.

Truth be told, every vicious word directed at her felt like it chipped away at her very soul.

At the same time, she knew it was inevitable. Even Ashley had once wanted to blame the world and others for her lack of talent.

But instead of slumping in defeat, Ashley recalled April's encouragement, and her shoulders already felt lighter.

"I've made up my mind."

She couldn't disappoint the first person to ever believe in her potential.

"I've thought about what I'm good at, and how I can make the most of my talents going forward. So yeah, I can do this."

"I see."

April broke into a bright smile at the resolute tone in her voice.

"That's impressive."

It was nothing but sincere praise, yet Ashley leaped back in surprise.

"M-Me? Really?"

"I don't have any skills or passions, so my favorite thing is just lying around in my room."

April unwittingly recalled her past self.

The frantic life of squeezing into narrow spaces like a tiny cog, with no room to breathe.

"But you've been chasing your dream since you were young, all the way to now. I respect that about you, Ashley."

"Y-You respect me? I haven't accomplished a thing."

"Not at all. I believe you'll shine just as much as you've worked for it."

"Ah..."

Seeing tears well up in Ashley's eyes, April gently squeezed her hand, smudged with charcoal and paint.

It was the moment their friendship took root.

"Miss, I saw a whole new side of you today."

"......"

"It really touched my heart. When I'm feeling down, you'll cheer me up with words like that, right? Aah, just thinking about it gets me choked up. I'm a bit of a sentimental type, you see."

"U-Um, Bonita..."

Please stop.

I covered my burning face with both hands.

Late embarrassment flooded in—I'd gotten carried away by the mood and blabbered something unnecessary.

What did I even say...?

I should've just given her a light pep talk.

Bonita, mid-ramble in her感動 overdrive, finally noticed my face a beat later and looked apologetic as she cast her eyes down.

"Sorry, Miss. I got a bit too carried away. You must be tired... Want to head back and rest?"

By now, I'd gotten a read on Bonita's style, so instead of pointing out her little slip-up, I shook my head.

That wasn't the point. I still had a major hurdle to clear.

How do I convince the Duke?

The terrifying man who'd called me a worthless good-for-nothing and made it clear he'd kill me if I outlived my usefulness.

But now I'd dragged him into this annoying bet of mine...

Dark clouds seemed to swarm over my head.

Maybe that's why my aimless wandering led my feet straight to the Duke's study.

"What brings you here?"

I spun around to bolt, but it was too late.

Liam, whom I hadn't seen in a while, was just stepping out of the study, hand on the doorknob.

"Uh, w-well..."

"Something to say to His Grace the Duke?"

I wasn't remotely prepared to face the Duke yet, so I shook my head vigorously.

"No, no, nothing like that. I was just thinking of taking a stroll, and somehow ended up here? Weird, huh? Haha..."

"I see."

"Yeah?"

Surprisingly, Liam seemed to accept it at face value.

...No, he was just pretending, then dumped a massive bomb on me.

"Your Grace the Duuuuke!!!"

The door flew open.

"Princess April is here to see youuuu!!!"

He bellowed into the study, then bowed dramatically, urging me to go in.

You madman!

And of all things, my eyes locked with the Duke's—he was sitting far back, facing the window.

"Ah, you look well. Glad to see it. Well, I'll be going then..."

"Come in."

"Yes, sir."

I did have business with the Duke anyway, so I swallowed my tears and mustard and stepped inside.

A quick glance back showed Liam had vanished, leaving Bonita alone, silently mouthing "fighting!" at me.

As the door shut, the study felt oppressively small, leaving just the Duke and me.

"What brings you here?"

"Uh, um, well..."

I couldn't get the words out easily. How was I supposed to proudly admit I'd name-dropped him in front of the artists?

The Duke, keeping his chillingly handsome face fixed on his papers, struck first.

"What, did you cause some trouble?"

"Pardon?"

Huh, how did he know?