In Order to Meet You, Beloved - Chapter 115

EPISODE 115

“It’s not a place worth being curious about. Everything has a price to pay.”

A look of contempt briefly crossed his cold face. It was surprising to see such an expression on someone who always appeared indifferent and unresponsive.

“Thinking about it, you’ve had quite a tough time. I wonder how you ended up alone in a foreign country and involved in this kind of work.”

After introducing him, Duke Raymond Persique immediately returned to his homeland. His constantly smiling face made it hard to read any emotion.

“My lord is an incredibly busy person. Just staying until the end of the last incident consumed a considerable amount of time.”

From his words, it seemed as if he was bored out of his mind, but it wasn’t as if he had an abundance of time.

Swallowing the somewhat impolite thought, Lyneth chuckled softly.

“Still, you kept your promise. I thought you’d scoff and refuse when I first heard Lady Cordelia’s request.”

“The foundation of any transaction is trust. As the head of a state, breaking a promise recklessly is unthinkable.”

His quiet voice held a firm belief in his lord. He might be simpler than he appears, judging by his earlier expression. Lyneth picked up a few more blank sheets.

“Now, let’s stop the small talk and start the experiment.”

“You were the one who started the small talk.”

“Oh, stop being such an old grump!”

Lyneth grumbled inwardly as she picked up the compass and drew circles on the other papers. Her expression turned serious again as she continued drawing the experimental magic circles.

* * *

“Give me the black ink.”

“Here it is.”

Olive took the small drum with a piece of black cloth and focused again on his work. The rhythmic clanking of the hammer echoed clearly. Noah, watching his master’s back, finally spoke up.

“You said you’d finish the plaster statue and then head straight to the temple, right?”

“Yes. They want to include bas-reliefs in the murals; it seems people of high status only like labor-intensive things.”

A plaster statue and a mural surface. The list of commissions from the temple was brief, apart from the numerous additional requirements and notes that followed.

Especially since bas-reliefs, unlike the carvings done in the workshop, involved filling up entire walls, they had to work on-site.

“By the way, it would have been better to commission you for the bas-reliefs rather than me.”

Given that it’s a technique on the boundary between painting and sculpture, it would be more suited to a student who excels in both areas rather than just him, who specializes in sculpture.

Considering that Olive’s student was more skilled in delicacy, Noah awkwardly averted his eyes.

“Well, the commission did come, but I had to refuse due to certain circumstances.”

“Oh, no wonder Perron was pleading in his letters. Didn’t you agree to the last mural work?”

“The situation is a bit different from back then. In any case, getting into the temple seems a bit difficult. I’m sorry, Master.”

“Do I look like someone who needs to be taken care of by my students? It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

Still, not having any assistance must be inconvenient.

Instead of adding more, Noah turned back and listened to the sound of the hammer as his master continued working. He gazed at the stone slowly changing shape with the irregular yet rhythmic sounds.

Although it’s a statue of a deity, the form of a god ultimately depends on human imagination. He wonders what form this statue will take from his master’s hands.

If it were him…

“Why are you spacing out like that?”

“What?”

At the sound calling him, Noah snapped back to reality. Olive, now with his arms crossed, was looking at him with a smiling face.

“You were staring intensely. Do you want to carve something yourself?”

“No, no.”

“Not? It’s written all over your face. You want to hammer away, don’t you?”

Olive directly posed a more explicit question to Noah, who was unable to answer easily.

“Have you finally become a bit less afraid of carving?”

Olive recalled the first time he asked Noah to sculpt. Although Noah primarily focused on painting, his keen eye for viewing objects from multiple angles and his strength in detailed work made Olive think he would handle sculpture just as well. The stone was of a size that seemed suitable for creating a bust. Olive was briefly surprised by the disciple’s audacity to carve the stone without making a sketch, but soon, he too became engrossed in his own work and took a brief nap.

Clang!

At the sound of something falling and breaking on the floor, Olive’s eyes flew open. What was that noise? He sprang up and looked toward the source of the sound.

In the quiet darkness, blue moonlight slanted through the window. The lamp hanging from the ceiling swayed in the air, casting light on the shards of broken plaster scattered around.

The moment Olive saw Noah standing stiffly in front of the mess, he exclaimed in panic.

‘Noah! What happened?’

Noah slowly turned his head. His expression was obscured by the hair covering his eyes, but his tightly shut lips trembled.

‘No, it’s nothing.’

It wasn’t that nothing had happened; rather, it was the look in his eyes that hoped no questions would be asked. Instead of pressing further, Olive approached and gently patted Noah’s shoulder.

‘It’s alright. Mistakes happen. Just clean up the mess.’

‘Yes. I’m sorry. I woke you up, didn’t I?’

‘Forget it. Sometimes, when you’re working, you might want to break something that doesn’t meet your expectations.’

Olive said this in a playful tone, making Noah’s neck turn slightly red. It seemed he had broken it on purpose. Olive pretended it was no big deal.

‘What was it that you didn’t like?’

Though he had expected Noah to avoid answering, to his surprise, Noah quietly shook his head.

‘It was too good, so I broke it.’

‘Eh?’

‘Just, yes. I guess I was too excited.’

The disciple, mumbling incoherently, ran off to fetch a broom to clean up. Leaving him behind, Olive returned to his hammock and closed his eyes again.

That didn’t mean Noah stopped sculpting afterward. His skill was evident. However, it was true that every time Noah sculpted a human form, there was an unsettling dissonance.

It felt as if he was forcibly suppressing himself.

“I don’t quite understand. To be honest, I still don’t have the confidence to take on commissions.”

Olive, who was gazing steadily at Noah’s honest confession, burst into a smile.

“The source of art is desire. It’s a process of drawing something from within yourself out into the open.”

The man who had wielded a hammer and chisel for many years spoke in a dry voice, cold enough to sound indifferent to the unsteady disciple.

“Thus, you cannot create good work by merely suppressing yourself. I must have said this before.”

It was advice he had given when Noah began his apprenticeship and was finally permitted to use a brush after about a year. At that time, he was terrified of presenting his work to others, fearing judgment more than enjoying it alone.

‘What good is creating something you cannot be satisfied with?’

That one remark had snapped him out of it, and he had tried to avoid making the same mistake again.

“Well, how should I put it… sculpting the human form is even more raw than I thought.”

It had been the same when he first started sculpting. As the form of the head gradually became clearer, the traces of ‘someone’ he had imagined seemed to emerge, making him gasp for breath.

When he regained his composure, the broken shards of his sculpture were scattered across the floor.

“Beauty as I conceive it does come through, doesn’t it?”

Therefore, regardless of skill, the results of sculptors often had subtly different characteristics. The differences between the sculptures made by Olive and Noah were noticeable to those who knew what to look for, even if they were difficult for an average person to discern.

Seeing Noah, who found it hard to speak further, Olive clicked his tongue knowingly.

“Do you have someone in mind?”

“……Yes?”

“I know sculptors who, like you, are caught up in their own worries. Those who are in love often get stuck in such self-defeating struggles.”

In front of his laughing master, Noah merely bit his lip.

“What’s the problem? Do you have someone in mind that you could never hope to reach?”

“Certainly, that was the case in the past…”

“So, it means it’s not the case now.”

Noah, with a dazed expression, nodded at Olive’s assertion. He had thought he needed to hide his feelings, so he had kept them concealed.

Then he reunited with his first love and, after much contemplation, took her hand. Yes, that’s right. When he thought about it, was there still a reason to be troubled?

There was no need to lie anymore that he no longer liked her.

Olive, seeing Noah lost in the fresh realization, added.

“People don’t dig as deep as you might think.”

“Pardon?”

“Most people just think that if something looks beautiful on the outside, that’s all there is to it.”

Olive, speaking harshly, glanced back at the sculpture behind him. The contours of the body were quite visible, but the face still lacked detail.

“Even if I were to sculpt this based on your face, and say that it was meant to depict a king’s face, people would believe that. They wouldn’t necessarily think of you.”

“Ha, haha… I guess so.”

The master’s joke, though seemingly meant to ease his tension, was no laughing matter for Noah, who was truly of royal lineage. Still, he seemed to relax, with his shoulders dropping.

“So stop moping and start picking up a hammer. What kind of disciple of a sculptor is afraid of sculpting?”

As Olive exaggeratedly shook his head, Noah alternated his gaze between the remaining plaster chunks and him.

“Since it’s been a while since I last held a hammer, maybe I should start by loosening up my hands first.”

The somewhat positive response was unusual, causing Olive to narrow his eyes.

There really was something going on.

“Indeed, it wouldn’t do to remain an amateur if you want to impress someone you care about. Isn’t that right?”

“Mm, yes, I guess it’s time to open up that window a bit.”

Instead of answering his master’s teasing question, Noah turned away, hiding his reddened ears, and approached the window.

* * *

Snow had fallen.

Starting from the previous night, the snow had blanketed the entire city. People busily swept their front yards, as problems would arise if the snow froze and turned to ice.

Noah stood absentmindedly in front of the sculpture in the center of the square, surrounded by the fountain. Dressed in a black quilted overcoat and trousers, with a brown hat covering his ears completely.

Unaware of the passing gazes on him, he looked up at the snow-covered sculpture with indifference. Despite the winter, the sound of the fountain flowing without freezing was particularly clear.

At that moment, something stepped up and covered his eyes.