Chapter Text
“I'm gonna show him!”
Another aggressive stroke of the paintbrush.
“Their opinions on myself don't matter in the slightest!!”
Another dozen.
“I will make this!!!!!–”
Suddenly, a pause. The young girl stood up and took a step back from the canvas to digest what was in front of her. As she wiped her sweat away, the realization hit her.
“Overdone it again. I'm gonna have to remake this entire portion to fix the color balance. At least the perspective is in place… barely.”
As the artist was sitting back down ready to grab her paintbrush, she finally heard a shy knock on her door.
- Yeah, who is it? You can come in!
The girl rushed to the mirror hanging on the wall on the other side of the attic. A little paint did inevitably get on her face, but if whoever was visiting had gotten inside her house, they probably knew her well enough not to judge that. Nevertheless, the young artist hastily fixed her hair right in time for the visitor to enter.
- E-Ena, sorry! I hope you weren't too busy… but… there's something huge! going on!!
The girl who entered was an unremarkable neighbor of Ena's; daughter of a merchant, she was one of the few educated girls in the Bibido district just like Ena herself.
- I was actually in the middle of painting, but…
Ena glossed over her mess of a canvas once again.
- …it's gonna be a long time before this is completed, so I don’t mind a small break. How are you doing?
Only now did the young artist notice her former classmate being so excited that she was running out of breath.
- There’s a noble..! In our district, there’s a noble on a walk talking to commoners in our district RIGHT NOW!
- Oh? So like is it a Baron? Or a Baroness? - Ena was right to assume that the appearance of a Lord or a Lady wouldn’t get anyone running as fast to alert all their friends. Bibido district fell under the jurisdiction of Lord Shiraishi who was known for his sociability, as such visits from his friends of a similar status sometimes became so frequent that the folk would forget that Ladies and Lords are nobles to begin with.
- It’s a really cute Count! With super fancy clothes, like, really fancy, oh, I’m so sure you’ll like them!
- Urgh, fine, let’s go!
Despite rolling her eyes at the sheer mention of privilege, Ena couldn’t pass an opportunity like that. After all, you don’t get to see someone as well put together to look well as a Count every day, not in Bibido district at least. That painting, unfortunately, wasn’t getting finished today anyway. Ena’s friend briefly explained where to find the mysterious guest and ran off before Ena got to put her shoes on: after all, she took the difficult role of informing all the girls she knew of the arrival, which meant she had no time to waste. However, since the Count could obviously leave at any moment, Ena was also in a hurry: his suit wasn’t going to inspire itself. Soon enough, she was out of the house and just around the corner of the street where the noble was spotted.
The crowd around seemed surprisingly sparse at first, before Ena realized how sunny it was. Especially for an evening. A quick gaze at the city chapel confirmed her suspicions - it was about 7 in the morning, meaning she’d worked through the night. Only with this realization did the fatigue hit her, but Ena was determined to at least get a look at the Count, so she easily ignored that feeling.
At last, she arrived at the place her friend told her about. The person she awaited was just across the street, chatting with some merchants. Ena’s legs froze in awe of the sight. The word “fancy” was less than an understatement, it was barely scratching the surface, barely touching the hem of the Count’s long lush skirt. Its overwhelming presence immediately overrode the surprise that should’ve been felt at the sight of a skirt instead of a suit - the messenger girl didn’t mention a Countess, after all. However, this wasn’t “a” skirt - this was “the” skirt. At the end of the day that skirt alone probably cost more than everything Ena’s touched in her life put together, including her own house and some of her father’s paintings. The epitome of privilege, the skirt made its wearer resemble a multilayered wedding cake clad in lace, pearls, pink silks and other types of decorations, for some of which Ena didn’t even know the names. However, that was just the skirt. The exotic shape of the top of the dress combined with the cleverly crafted sleeves looked like it wasn’t even physically possible to attain, yet the Count was able to not only move in that piece of art without ruining it, but also do so elegantly and without any awkwardness. That’s a real noble for you. This is what being rich looks like.
Ena still couldn’t move, overwhelmed by the beauty of what she was seeing combined with a pinch of lingering tiredness as well as an immense feeling of something else. Was it jealousy? Perhaps. However, since it manifested emotionally as anger, it would be more correct to call it the feeling of injustice. None of Ena’s friends had clothes like that, hell, none of them had touched or even seen clothes like that. And they probably never will. What did the nobles do to deserve it? Despite being familiar with the diverse ways the world is unjust, Ena was the type of character to still get mad about it. The only thing preventing her from letting this anger out now though was the awe. As such, she didn’t even realize what happened at first when the Count’s magnificent figure started drawing in closer.
- Oh my! Are you by any chance an artist? - it took Ena a good while to realize who was speaking to her and therefore to reply.
- H-how do you know, Your Grace?
- Hahaha! - the mischievous cackle took Ena off guard. The Count looked quite young, probably about her age. What could possibly be on that mind anyway? Are nobles also able to recognize someone’s profession by just looking at them? Is that an ability granted by the court sorcerer or are they born with it? - It’s actually really simple, - the Count took off a white glove revealing a hand of suitably cutely painted nails. How did those not damage under the glove? Before Ena could think of anything else, she felt the touch of one of those fingers on her cheek. In that moment, once again, something died inside of her. On one hand, a stranger just dared to touch her, violated her right to privacy, yet she couldn’t do anything about it. That person could get away with any kind of similar touch without any repercussions, while if Ena were to speak against it, she would have to face dire consequences. On the other hand, she’s never dreamt to be as close to this luxury as she was in that moment. The touch felt way too soft for any hands she knew before, yet human nonetheless.
The moment didn’t last at all though, the next second the Count was already holding that blueish finger in front of Ena’s eyes.
- That’s paint, right?
- Y-yes, Your Grace, - to add to all the other firsts, this was probably the first time in her life that Ena felt this embarrassed.
- Which means you’re an artist!
- I am, Your Grace.
- What a coincidence! I’m actually looking for a specific artist in Bibido. Would you mind helping me out?
- Not at all, Your Grace. You must be looking for Mr. Shinei Shinonome, he lives in–
- Who?
- Mr. Shinei Shinonome, - the Count was really playing on Ena’s nerves by interrupting her, but she still managed to keep her poker face. - You might’ve seen “A Peony Blooming at Night”–
- Yeah, uh, no, maybe? I think I’m looking for another artist.
- I-I don’t think that there are other artists you could’ve heard of in Bibido…
- Well, there are other artists here, right? At least you.
- That’s right, Your Grace. However, none of them are as popular–
- See, if there are other artists, one of them might be the person I’m looking for!
Ena was seriously thinking of facepalming at that moment. Who cares if that ruins her entire career, that Count is a bitch! Or at the very least completely unbearable.
- Who are you looking for?
- I actually don’t know their name. I remember the painting that I saw during one recent ball and I heard it was sent in by an artist from Bibido, so I came here!
- Is that so…
The fact that the painting was sent away, unfortunately, meant almost nothing. National contests were frequent and that was the only way to even get a chance of recognition, so any artist in their right mind would do that often. Ena sent away 3 of her works, her classmate Futaba Natsuno sent 5. Their teacher probably sent away a dozen. Ena’s father, the renowned Shinei Shinonome, was a different case. He probably sent away almost all of his works. Not like Ena cared. After what that man said to her she long since didn’t want to do anything with him.
- Th-that painting was really distinct though! I think I might recognize the artist if I see their other works… Is that possible?
- I apologize, Your Grace, but there is no art exposition going on right now. You’d have to visit every artist in the city.
- Are there a lot of them?
- Yes, Your Grace. Bibido has a small art school, so I can probably name at least a dozen off the top of my head.
- That’s a pity… I’ve never seen such an accurate portrayal of magic on a single canvas… It was really inspirational, y’know?
Ena was used to hearing that about Shinei Shinonome’s paintings. However… magic wasn’t something people painted often. Could it be… No, that’s impossible. But… If there’s at least a small chance…
- E-excuse me! Could you describe the painting a bit more please! Y-your Grace!
- But of course! It depicted this huuuuuge explosion that occurred in the area when the Masked Witch was here on her business. It was like really colorful and really over the top and the contrast with the chapel made it seem soooo cool and interesting! It felt just right.
- Th-this can’t be… But, Your Grace, didn’t you say it looked accurate? That painting… didn’t really look realistic.
- Who cares about that? It FELT accurate, and that’s way more important!
Flabbergasted, Ena didn’t come up with a reply, so the pause was broken by the Count.
- So, will you show me your other works?
- How-?! I-I mean. Yes, Your Grace.
- Lovely!
As Ena and the Count headed to the former’s humble residence, the latter insisted on continuing the conversation.
- What did you say your name was again?
- Ena, Your Grace, but I never told you–
- Oh! Does that mean I didn’t tell you my name either?
- No, Your Grace, - Ena was surprised to realize that she wasn’t able to recognize this Count at all. Surely she would’ve already seen all the nobles her age in tabloids, wouldn’t she?
- Count Mizuki Akiyama Junior of Kamiyama City at Shibuya Kingdom’s service, pleased to meet you!
Ena immediately ignored half of those protocoled words. Kamiyama… While it still was a different district, it was neighboring Bibido nonetheless. Why hasn’t she ever heard of any Count living there?
- So, - Count Akiyama continued, - how old are you then?
- I recently turned 19 years old, Your Grace.
- Oh, that young? My apologies, I assumed you were like 23 or something!
“Don’t talk back, Ena. You need your job to eat food. Prison food is not tasty, it’ll make you ugly.”
- I myself am only 18, by the way, - added the Count.
“What was that comment for?!”
- And are you married yet?
- No, Your Grace. I live alone.
- Good, good.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ena stopped.
- Your Grace, I suggest you wait outside. My house is in too poor of a condition to accommodate Your Grace’s very lovely dress, and the paintings are located in the attic, so it would probably just be easier for the both of us if I just bring them outside.
- Sure! I’m glad you understand what a pity it would be to ruin this dress, haha. I’ll be waiting for you here!
Ena nodded and disappeared from Count Akiyama’s view into the door of her small house. She really needed some sleep, but that wasn’t an option at the moment. She was also really angry, so she took it out on some of the spices she happened to have. After swallowing a cup of boiling tea in one gulp to not waste any time, she finally got the energy she needed to rush to the attic for her paintings.
It didn’t take her too long. Soon enough Ena was outside dragging four canvases she happened to find first along with a couple of sketchbooks. She was so focused on it that she didn’t even notice that Count Mizuki Akiyama wasn’t waiting for her alone anymore.
- You’re back!
“Well, of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?!” - Ena didn’t have it in her to come up with a polite reply. Instead, she finally put down everything she brought in a way that it’s visible for the Count. Despite all of its technical problems, her art was still probably a better speaker than Ena herself.
- Wow… These are all so adorable! So it was you after all, wasn’t it?
- Yes, Your Grace.
- I see it’s signed… Enanan. Is that a pseudonym?
- Yes, Your Grace.
- What’s your last name?
Ena hesitated for a second. Of course, the Count has already asked a ton of unreasonable questions she was obligated to answer, but this one. How would the Count’s opinion of her change if she revealed who her father is? Does she have to do it? The Count seems to like her works anyway, so is that not enough? Is your family name the only thing that can dictate opinions in this world?
- Excuse me, are you okay? - the Count interrupted her thoughts once again.
- Yes, Your Grace, my apologies.
- You look soooooo sleepy though! You probably had to wake up really early today, didn’t you?
“What does your privileged ass know about that?” - a momentary thought.
- In that case, let me get straight to the point. I need your name for the document.
- What document?
- The “I’m buying you” contract!! Or whatever it’s called.
…
- My apologies, Your Grace, it looks like I really am falling asleep. Can you please repeat what you just said?
- Haha, no worries! See that carriage behind me? You're going home. With me. I’m buying you as my personal painter!
Ena’s legs gave out and she fell on her knees. On one hand, she was clearly not in the right headspace to make any grand decision that would decide the course of her life for- probably the rest of it. On the other hand… did she even have any choice in the matter to begin with? What could someone like her say when a Count was buying her? There might’ve been some loopholes, but it’s not like they were really worth it.
In fact, most importantly, it’s not like Ena had anything to lose. What are her friends and her entire life in the grand scheme of things?
- Ena Natsuno, - a name of a friend was the best one she could think of on the spot to replace her real one. - That’s my name.
Great! We’re leaving in about 30 minutes, so you…
Ena Shinonome, or rather Ena Natsuno, didn’t remember the rest of the talk. She didn’t remember packing the little amount of things she had. She didn’t remember asking that same girl that told her Count Akiyama was in town to tell everyone she’s leaving. She only remembered finally falling asleep in the shaking carriage that took her somewhere close on the map, yet far, far away in the scale of her insignificantly small life - to the city of Kamiyama.