PHATFO 15

[Chapter 15]

Charlotte probably thought the painter left because of her slip-up—but not even close.

The night before he left, I secretly visited his room and told him everything.

I told him what Charlotte had gained from his paintings—and what he had lost.

“My paintings… are really that famous? If that’s true, I’d be so happy… But it’s hard to believe…”

Even though he smiled a little, he still looked doubtful.

Apparently, every time Charlotte took one of his paintings, she nitpicked and criticized. “This part is off, and that part too, but I’ll give you a little money out of kindness.”

He said that just following her orders to paint left him no time to listen to the outside world.

“Your art is better than you think. You deserve to be treated better. Don’t you want to take back what Charlotte stole from you?”

“Of course I do. Becoming a famous artist has always been my dream. But…”

His eyes were full of hope for a moment, but then he slumped his shoulders.

“She’s a noblewoman, isn’t she? Who would believe a powerless commoner? Even if I speak, no one will believe me. And if they do, they’ll just say I was naive to let it happen.”

“Not all nobles are like Charlotte. What about Madam Hilton? She listens even to commoners if it’s about business. I’m sure she’ll hear your story too.”

“You want me to pretend it’s about business and then tell her my personal problems? What if she gets angry?”

“I promise—she won’t turn you away.”

I gently persuaded him, telling him how long Charlotte and Madam Hilton had hated each other.

“Think I’m lying?”

“No… With her, it’s not hard to believe such a grudge exists.”

He kept repeating “Madam Hilton” under his breath like he was memorizing it. Then suddenly, he looked up.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because Hilton isn’t the only one who wants to see Charlotte fall.”

Right then, the clouds moved away from the moon. He saw the swollen bruise on my cheek and fell silent.

“In return for this information, all I ask is this: no matter when or where we meet again, act like you don’t know me. Especially in front of Charlotte. I think you understand what I mean.”

“Of course. I gain nothing from spreading this around either.”

Even though he said he understood, he didn’t leave the mansion right away.

He needed time—to decide whether what I told him was the truth, and whether it could be trusted.

“Then when Charlotte blurted something out, it must’ve confirmed everything for him. That it was time to act.”

His eyes, once he made his decision, were clear and firm.

Meanwhile, Charlotte was flailing.

“This is nonsense! It’s all lies! I’ve never seen that man before today!”

As she screamed, Madam Hilton clicked her tongue.

“I understand, my lady. Everyone has secrets they’d rather keep hidden. But secrets always leave traces. This man has been to your estate several times. Who is he to you?”

“Maybe… a secret lover?”

Another lady widened her eyes in mock surprise.

“Goodness, how disgraceful.”

A noblewoman seated diagonally shook her head.

Charlotte glared at them all.

“This is ridiculous! If you spread false rumors, I will take action!”

“Then explain, my lady. Why did this man visit your estate so often? And why does his painting style perfectly match yours?”

Charlotte sighed, straightened up, and placed her folded hands on her knees.

“If you insist on pressing me like this, I’ll tell you the truth. He’s actually my teacher. I was ashamed to admit that I learned from a commoner painter, so I kept it secret. But there was nothing improper between us! Satisfied?”

She insisted they were simply student and teacher, and that’s why their styles were similar…

But—

“That’s a lie. In order to influence someone’s style, you have to teach them for a long time. But just three months before her debut, I was still living in the West. I even submitted a painting there.”

The painter shot her down immediately.

“Yes, I saw it too. It was hard to find an older work of yours,”

Madam Hilton added, then signaled to her servants to bring another canvas.

They placed it next to the one the painter had just created.

It was obvious—the same person had painted both.

Madam Hilton stood admiring them and asked,

“Such a lovely still life. Oh my, there’s even a signature. ‘Kiran Lothe’… what does that mean?”

“It’s my name.”

“So, not a pseudonym used by Lady Rohilton. That clears things up. You’re the real artist—aren’t you?”

She smiled with admiration.

Charlotte, unable to deny it anymore, hung her head in shame. Another noblewoman clicked her tongue.

“Honestly, my lady, I wonder if you even know what shame is. How long did you think you could get by using someone else’s work?”

“……”

This time another lady burst into laughter. She, too, had experienced Charlotte’s rudeness.

“And this con artist actually went around boasting that she’d marry the Duke of Durnare. Shameless.”

Another girl joined in dramatically.

“Oh, and did you hear? On the young viscount’s birthday, she’s the one who put the maid on the balcony with the slop bucket!”

“I saw the mess, but didn’t know that. Was that all an act too? Trying to play the ‘poor lady’ to win sympathy from the viscount? Disgusting, but clever plotting!”

“Right? At this rate, maybe she really is a painter—just of schemes.”

As laughter rippled around the group, someone called out:

“What do you think, Lady Camilla?”

“You were even falsely accused of ruining her painting at the charity auction, weren’t you?”

“The more I think about it, the more outrageous it is. She freaked out over a painting she didn’t even create.”

Camilla calmly replied,

“Regardless of how the painting was obtained, if Lady Rohilton submitted it, then it was hers. It’s natural she’d be upset if it was damaged.”

“Wow… you’re so graceful, even with your words.”

“Unlike… some people.”

That “somebody”—Charlotte—quietly clenched her fists.

The tea party was turning into chaos, so Madam Hilton stepped in to mediate.

“Everyone, please stay silent so Lady Rohilton can speak. This gathering isn’t to pressure her—it’s to uncover the truth.”

Still, she hid a smug smile behind her fan.

“Now then, please speak, my lady. We’re all listening.”

Charlotte had only one way out—paint on the spot and prove her skill.

But since she couldn’t do that, she began shaking again… and then exploded.

“T-this is all a setup!”

“Hmm?”

“It’s a trap! This whole party, that man showing up—it’s all Carina’s doing!”

“Now that’s interesting. Are you saying I arranged for you to gain fame through a ghost painter?”

Charlotte clamped her mouth shut.

“And please, don’t call me ‘Carina.’ We’re not close enough to speak so casually, are we? If I recall, you said we were on different levels and told me not to act familiar.”

Madam Hilton hid her smirk behind her fan again.

Her smile spread through the room. Chuckles followed.

“Indeed, you two are very different.”

“Right? One’s the head of the Hilton merchant group… the other, a fraud.”

Charlotte’s face turned red—just what I had hoped for.

Now was the perfect moment to push her over the edge.

“Um, Charlotte… are you okay—?”

SLAP!

Before I could finish, a sharp sting hit my left cheek.

“This is all your fault! You hear me?!”

I stayed crouched on the floor as Charlotte screamed.

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have gone to that charity event or this stupid party! This is all your fault! YOU!”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Charlotte raised her foot to kick me, but Camilla caught her.

Camilla, strong and sturdy, easily held her back.

Still, even Camilla wasn’t immune to being screamed at right in the ear. Her frown showed her discomfort.

“Let go! I said let go!”

Luckily, Charlotte’s energy ran out. After yelling for a while, she slumped down, exhausted.

Camilla shoved her into a chair and came over to me.

“Are you okay, my la—”

But she stopped midsentence. The same with the other noblewomen.

Their eyes had all landed on my shoulder.

When I had fallen, I’d purposely pulled my sleeve aside—just enough to reveal the deep blue bruise underneath.