“So, do you mean we should draw it like this?”
The sight of the old men gathered together and discussing seriously was, frankly, a bit laughable.
"no…."
On the painting, where the professional touches were unmistakably evident, a single jewel-like apple was depicted with breathtaking beauty.
The problem? They spent half the day drawing that single apple with great precision.
Fearing that I would remain trapped in this room forever if this pace continued, I moved closer to Sir Brown, the former royal painter who seemed to be their representative, and whispered cautiously.
“Maybe you could soften up your blows a little?”
"Oh, indeed. These days, light brush strokes seem to be the norm rather than heavy strokes. Don't you think so, Mr. Robid?"
Suddenly, Sir Robid called out, scratching his half-bald head.
“Hmm, I'm not sure. Isn't this aggressive style of drawing more of a foreign technique, rather than something rooted in our Claytan tradition?”
“It's not a tradition; it's an evolution. It's progress!”
These men would often indulge in conversations that no one else could follow, delving deep into their artistic world.
Before the discussion got any more heated, I intervened again.
“What I meant is... you just need to draw basic, simple shapes. You don't have to put a lot of effort into it. What's important is to get the story across.”
“Ah, so you're saying that drawings should tell a story?”
Sir Brown's face lit up. Then he turned to Sir Kidrick, who was quietly absorbed in his work.
Isn't the art world deep? It develops every day and acquires new meanings.
Sir Kidric, who had been silent until now, answered in a serious tone.
“…A new art indeed. This must be the influence of the Duchy of Blair.”
“Haha…”
No, no, no!
I stifled a muffled cry at what I felt was betrayed by Sir Caedrick, who seemed the most level-headed.
Renewed feelings of resentment towards Duke Blair.
All I wanted to do was pass the time by reading a regular comic book. This work was not supposed to be a great masterpiece!
But for some reason, these elderly painters seemed to treat the project as a life-defining task, into which they put enormous enthusiasm.
Which makes sense, considering that Liam was apparently offered an astronomical salary to hire them...
"How many? Millions of triples!?"
“There is nothing Duke Blair's wealth cannot achieve.”
As someone who, despite being a princess, lived in extreme poverty as a street beggar, I was shocked by the Duke's extravagance.
“Anyway, ma'am, we understand what you want. We also understand what we should include.”
“Huh?”
Sir Brown, who had been introduced to me as a gentlewoman from a small branch of the family to conceal my true identity, bowed politely.
His serious demeanor only made me more worried.
“…What do you mean by ‘include’?”
Although I asked cautiously, my question had no effect on the painters who had already retreated into their own world.
“It will take some time.”
“Sure. We have a lot to coordinate.”
Without waiting for my response, they quickly left, muttering among themselves.
After I was left alone in the empty studio, I left, desperately trying to collect my scattered thoughts.
At the same time, a wave of intense frustration washed over me.
“I just wanted to relax in my room!”
Somehow, I couldn't shake the ominous feeling that this comic book project would only further complicate my life.
* * *
There is a song that says that sad prophecies are never wrong.
I had a large, heavy book in my hand, and in front of my eyes were three old men staring at me with expectant eyes.
Sir Robid stood at the front, arms outstretched proudly.
“This is an illustrated book detailing the great achievements of the 1st Duke Blair.”
“Ah…”
In other words... an autobiography?
My trembling hands slowly turned the cover of the huge book.
As expected.
“Haha…”
A hollow laugh came out of me as I browsed the contents of the book.
In short, this wonderful comic story begins with the birth of the first Duke of Blair.
Which, apparently, hatched from an egg.
At the age of five, he was already breathing fire to vanquish monsters.
At the age of ten, he grew wings from under his armpits that allowed him to fly and create powerful winds to defeat enemies with a single blow.
Not to mention making grenades out of pine cones, crossing Lake Meru on a single sheet of paper, and many other ridiculous feats…
“At this point, wasn’t the First Duke himself just a monster?”
But it didn't end there.
pop.
I closed the strange comic book with a decisive gesture. I couldn't bear to read any more.
“It's so boring...”
I couldn't bring myself to tell the elderly artists, who were watching me with glistening eyes, but this comic book was terribly boring.
Aside from its ridiculous premise and ridiculously high-quality illustrations, it didn't deliver anything.
There was no touching love story, no chilling revenge tale, just an invincible monster duke and his actions.
If there is any moral lesson to be drawn, it is this: opposition to Duke Blair means death.
Considering that this comic was commissioned by the Duke himself, it seemed like his grand plan.
Is this his way of saying, “Either surrender or face my pine bombs?”
If so…
If that was truly his intention...
“I should never oppose him.”
Hahahahaha.
I forced myself to let out a bitter laugh.
“How is this?”
Then Sir Brown, the leader of this bizarre autobiographical comedy project, asked cautiously.
“I heard from His Excellency that you will be the one to provide the final evaluation.”
“Well, this is…”
I turned my head, trying to avoid their expectant gazes.
Of course, I wanted to say something nice – to praise their efforts and assure them that it was enough.
But...but!
I can't lie, even out of courtesy.
Compared to the masterpieces I've read in the modern world, this was too much.
No heartbreaking love stories. No chilling tales of revenge. Only the Duke's ridiculous, storm-summoning arms.
After a moment of hesitation, I raised my head again.
“I think...we may need to reconsider...the purpose of this project.”
"The goal? This action is to honor the greatness of Duke Blair!"
Sir Robid's bald head reddened, as if he considered my words an insult to their art.
I raised my hands in a calming gesture, then continued quietly.
“What I mean is...”
If I fail to convince them now, I will find myself stuck with a huge pile of useless papers.
This had to be avoided at all costs.
“The most important thing is fun. Sir Brown, do you think the First Duke’s career is interesting?”
“…It was painted to pay tribute to his achievements.”
In other words, wasn't fun even a consideration?
When he felt my intense gaze, he quickly added, as if defending himself.
“Researchers often look down on simple art that focuses on entertainment, right?”
“Indeed. It would be a waste of time to devote the work of these skilled artists to mere entertainment,” remarked Sir Kidrick.
I shook my head. Art will not remain exclusive to the aristocracy forever.
Art should be simpler, more accessible, and most importantly, fun. The world I come from has proven that.
“People started drawing, and made it a profession, to bring joy and happiness to others. Isn’t this the essence of art?”
“…….”
"That's what I meant. Nothing has changed about that."
You care.
Sir Brown's arms, stiff with tension, fell motionless.
Sir Robid and Sir Keedric both looked at me with expressions that were difficult to decipher.
As the room fell silent, I felt heat rising to my face.
Was I raving nonsense?
But what choice did I have?
Even if someone paid me money, I wouldn't be able to read this again.
"…my lady."
After a long silence, Sir Brown took a step closer, and his expression softened.
“It seems that we may have lost sight of our original purpose after spending so long in this field.”
"…Excuse me?"
"You're right. I started drawing simply because it was fun. But at some point, we started decorating our works with fancy words, trying to elevate ourselves through them."
His crinkled eyes seemed to shine, though I didn't want to believe it.
“That's not true. You're all great.”
“Ha-ha-ha. No need to be polite. To be truly outstanding, as I said, our work must bring pleasure. So...”
Sir Brown asked in a serious tone:
“What should we do?”
What should they do?
I fell into deep thought.