Find the One Who Abandoned Me - Chapter 48

“You look a little disappointed,” Calliope said lightly.

“Not at all,” Otis replied.

“Am I mistaken?”

“You are.”

“Well then, I’ll take your word for it.”

The children finally finished choosing their meals and called a server to place their orders. Calliope leaned back comfortably in her seat. Carolie, Kaphir, and Leona were chatting nonstop, while Otis sat upright and silent, ever the model of noble decorum.

As the conversation flowed around the table, Leona hesitated, then quietly called out.

“Um… Lady Anastas?”

“Just call me young lady. No need to be formal,” Calliope said gently.

“O-oh, alright. Lady Anastas… I have a favor to ask. I know it might be presumptuous, but…”

“It’s fine. Go ahead, speak freely.”

“What is it?” Carolie asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

Leona fidgeted with her hands for a moment before speaking, her voice soft.

“If… if you ever need a portrait, would you let me paint it?”

“A portrait?” Calliope echoed.

“Yes. I’m not sure if I’m good enough, but I know noble ladies often have their portraits painted after debuting.”

That was true. Most noblewomen commissioned at least one formal portrait after their social debut. But Carolie tilted her head, puzzled.

“But Leona, aren’t you a landscape artist?”

“I actually enjoy painting people, too. It’s just that no one’s ever asked me, and landscapes sell better, so I never really had the chance.”

“If you’ve painted any, can I see them?” Carolie asked eagerly, clearly confident in her chosen artist’s abilities.

But Leona shook her head with a subdued expression.

“My parents told me not to waste time on paintings that don’t sell, so I haven’t really done any proper ones.”

Carolie blinked several times, her large eyes filled with disbelief. Her expression seemed to ask, What do you mean, your parents won’t let you paint what you want when I’m funding you?

“Why? I’ve been sending you plenty of money.”

“Oh, well… my parents don’t have jobs. And my brother doesn’t either. I send them whatever’s left after covering the cost of my materials. But I guess it’s still not enough.”

Carolie was left speechless. A seventeen-year-old girl supporting her entire family? It was beyond comprehension.

Calliope, who had been listening silently, spoke with a touch of detachment.

“Are your parents or your brother ill?”

“Oh—well, my parents have a lot of minor health issues from working for so long. And my brother… he struggles to get along with people.”

“How old is he?”

“He’s twenty-two.”

Calliope let out a quiet, dry laugh. So that’s why she and Carolie parted ways in the past, she thought. Money. Always money.

If her family had relied solely on Leona like this, it wasn’t surprising that things fell apart. And if Leona was as emotionally tied to them then as she seemed now, it all added up.

Noticing Calliope’s chuckle, Leona turned and stared at her.

“Well,” Calliope said, smiling faintly, “commissioning a portrait isn’t difficult.”

She seemed to be weighing something silently—when, unexpectedly, Otis spoke up for the first time in a while.

“I could help your brother find work.”

“Work?” Leona asked, blinking as she turned toward him.

“If he has a hard time with people, we could find something he can do on his own.”

It was a practical, compassionate answer. Calliope gave Leona a quick glance. Her face lit up.

“That would be great. I’ll talk to him about it.”

“Yeah,” Carolie added, “if your brother can get a job, you’ll have more freedom. I’ll also check if I can increase the support I’m sending you. Now that your first exhibition’s finished, it might be possible.”

“Oh no, that’s really not necessary! What I receive already feels like more than enough.”

“I’d love for you to hole up in your studio and paint all day, sure, but I also want you to experience more—see more of the world. That’s good for artists too, right?”

Leona looked unsure of how to respond, overwhelmed by the kindness. It was the face of someone receiving genuine care for the first time.

“…Thank you,” she said, her voice quiet.

Soon after, their food arrived, and the meal began in a somewhat subdued atmosphere. Thankfully, Carolie’s cheerful chatter quickly lightened the mood again. In situations like this, the headstrong young lady had a knack for turning things around.

Calliope focused quietly on her meal as her sister filled the room with light conversation.

There were two main reasons Calliope wanted Otis to give up on Leona. The first was simply that Carolie was emotionally attached to her. Even as an adult, she had tried multiple times to bring Leona back.

The second reason… was Leona’s future.

Contrary to what many assumed, Carolie hadn’t lost her because of money. No, Leona had abruptly retired at a young age.

No one quite knew why. After she began painting under Glayderth’s patronage, she grew in fame rapidly—her success seemed certain. But her painting style gradually changed. The bold and dark tones she once wielded so well grew heavier, more distorted. Her figures became twisted, her color palette colder.

Calliope had once thought it was simply because of the oppressive environment female artists faced.

But… maybe that wasn’t the only reason.

Even now, she couldn’t say for sure. The truth remained a mystery.

As Calliope quietly recalled the past, Otis sat across from her, watching. There it was again—that same question that had come to him before.

What is she always thinking so deeply about?

The five of them finished their meal without incident and left the restaurant. Carolie insisted on walking Leona back to her studio, and hearing this, Otis offered to take the two of them in his carriage. So, Calliope and Kaphir ended up riding back in the Glayderth family’s carriage.

It wasn’t until the carriage jolted over a stone in the road for the third time that Calliope suddenly spoke.

“Do you happen to have time next week?”

“…Pardon?”

“Huh?”

Although she was clearly addressing Otis, even Kaphir, seated beside her, reacted. Calliope raised one eyebrow at him, her face saying, Why are you answering?

“I—I think I do,” Otis replied.

In truth, he’d need to check his schedule once he got back to his family’s estate. Still, he answered instinctively, then turned his eyes away for a moment.

“I need a favor.”

“What sort of favor?”

“Come with me somewhere.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see when we get there. It won’t be anything bad, I promise.”

Calliope smiled faintly as she sat comfortably in the carriage’s plush seat. Otis thought for a moment before nodding. Beside them, Kaphir stared back and forth between them with the expression of someone who’d just witnessed a scandalous affair.

After finishing her sword training with Bellona, Calliope wiped sweat from her forehead and tried to catch her breath. Beside her, Bellona handed her wooden training sword to a waiting servant and said,

“You’ve got more talent than I thought.”

“That’s what Dora said too.”

Calliope laughed softly as she pulled her hair back into a neater ponytail. Bellona gave the same small laugh and stepped closer to her old friend.

“She actually said that?”

“Yes. Although she did also say I’m no genius.”

“Well, that part’s true.”

“You two really do talk the same way. No wonder you’re friends.”

Bellona let out a breath of laughter in place of a reply. Calliope turned to Susan and asked the time, realizing she should start preparing to go out.

After seeing Bellona off, she returned to her room, took a bath, and changed into a simple dress. While brushing her hair, she asked Susan,

“Where’s Jack?”

“Still out running your errand. It’s been a few days now.”

“Good.”

Taking the brush from Susan’s hand, Calliope hummed to herself as she brushed her own hair. Susan, who already knew what her lady had planned for Lord Glayderth, felt a strange sense of dread watching her. She thought, Only Calliope could look this cheerful while preparing to crush someone.

Well… it’s not a bad thing, right?

With that, the young maid sighed and brought over her lady’s outerwear.

Jack, wearing a fake mustache and a wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his eyes, let out a sigh as he stood inside an underground gambling den, hidden deep within the capital. He was only there because Calliope had ordered it—but he knew this kind of job wasn’t his strength. Still, there was no way he was going to let his lady sit among a bunch of washed-up noblemen pretending they had wealth. So he had no choice.

“20 gold on number three!”

“Whoa, aren’t you pushing it a little, friend?”

When Jack first entered the den acting like a clueless noble, the local gamblers—reeking of smoke and desperation—had all jeered and egged him on. Jack snorted, rolled two chips of fake currency into small scrolls, and stuck them behind each ear as he slammed his hand on the table.

“A real man doesn’t hesitate!”

Plenty of “real men” had gambled away their houses, their heirlooms—and vanished from society. Jack may not have had a gift for gambling, but he knew how to commit once he started. Sprawled out in a chair, he crossed one leg and pulled out a cigarette.

Well—something that looked like a cigarette. Jack didn’t actually smoke, but in his mind, a gambler drank, smoked, and did drugs. So, in the name of method acting, he’d prepared a rolled herbal stick himself.

“Spinning!”

As the numbered wheel spun, the metal ball clattered and bounced inside it. The men around the table stretched their necks, eyes glued to the little ball’s path. Jack leaned in too, eyes bloodshot with concentration. It wasn’t even his money—Calliope had handed it over—but winning still felt better than losing.

“Huh?”

“Number three! It’s number three!”

The dealer shouted, and Jack leapt out of his seat with both arms raised.

“How much is that?”

“Three times your bet!”

Those who had lost groaned and cursed, but Jack climbed onto the table, shaking his hips like he was in a victory parade.

Maybe I’m actually good at this?

It was a ridiculous sight—especially considering how adamantly he’d claimed he wasn’t cut out for this kind of thing. And yet, here he was, shouting on top of a table.

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