Chapter 123 – “You really do care about your sister.”
“This painting, good??” Sophia's pupils flickered at Teresa's open praise. Then she shook her head. “.........It’s clearly just a failed piece.”
“Then, if you don’t mind, Miss Sophia, could I take this failed piece off your hands?” Teresa smiled.
“...........What would you even do with it?”
“If you really don’t mind, I’d like to take it ho and have it frad. Is that alright?”
“............”
“Of course, if not, that’s perfectly fine too. I just thought it’d be a sha to waste it.”
“Take it.” As Teresa spoke, Sophia handed the painting over without even looking back.
“Thanks~”
“No need to thank . It’s just a painting, and it's useless to anyway.”
Teresa received the artwork with both hands, unfolding it carefully, as though handling a flawless masterpiece.
This subtle gesture caused a ripple in Sophia’s heart.
Once the piece was fully displayed, it showed a lifelike sunset scene. It was hard to believe such colors had been conjured with paint and brush alone—the outline of the sun, nestled within the mountains' last sliver of residual heat, the light halos stretching across the vast sky—each stroke rendered so vividly that it felt like one could reach out and feel the sun’s warmth.
At day’s end, the sun gave off its final glimr, warming the earth one last ti. Radiant, yes, but tinged with desolation. The trees and cliffs below the mountain were cast into shadow. The sheer visual impact of the painting was so strong it created an imrsive illusion.
It was clear the artist possessed impressive fundantals—proficiency in rendering natural scenery and an inherent gift.
Though one couldn’t judge an elf’s age by appearance, from the way she spoke and expressed herself, Teresa surmised Sophia was still quite young. She couldn’t say exactly how Sophia was related to Astrid, but based on her instincts, she felt Sophia was even younger than Astrid.
Such remarkable artistic talent at such a young age—it was truly rare.
Her gaze drifted toward the signature at the bottom right of the painting:
Sophia Oleniman.
“Miss Sophia seems to have a fondness for sunset scenes, twilight, autumn breezes, desolate cities, and crumbling ruins, doesn’t she?” Teresa cautiously folded the painting back up.
“..........” A strange flicker crossed Sophia’s eyes.
“Sorry, maybe I was just over-interpreting.” Teresa added when Sophia didn’t respond.
“..........How did you know that?”
“I could tell from your painting.” Teresa looked toward the sky where the sun had already set behind the mountains, leaving only a few streaks of crimson.
“You specifically chose the final mont before sunset as your subject. Your technique in portraying this mont is well-developed—it’s clear you’ve spent considerable ti studying and practicing it. This level of skill doesn’t co from a spur-of-the-mont whim to paint a sunset.”
“So I thought, perhaps you’re particularly experienced in capturing lancholic autumn scenes like this.”
“........Didn’t expect the champion lady to know a thing or two about painting.”
“A little, not much. I’m just soone who buys eggs and judges their quality—I can't lay them myself.” Teresa half-joked.
“You’re incredibly skilled in landscape painting. I haven’t seen that many works myself, but yours is the first to make feel as though I was truly there, Miss Sophia.”
“How do you know my na?” Sophia blurted out—then realized the painting she just gave away had her na signed on it.
“I don’t only paint landscapes,” she said suddenly, not sure why she’d said it.
“Oh? What else do you paint?” Teresa asked, curious. “If you don’t mind, I’d love to have a look.”
“......”
Sophia instinctively clutched the bag on her shoulder a bit tighter.
“No worries if it’s inconvenient. Sorry to have disturbed you today.”
“It’s fine.” Watching Teresa’s dazzling golden hair, Sophia wanted to say sothing, but swallowed it back down.
“Excuse , then.” Sophia turned to leave, and Teresa headed back to her seat to finish off her salad.
As Sophia walked, still lost in thought, she didn’t notice the threshold at the balcony entrance—it wasn’t particularly high, but not low either—and just like that, her ankle, wrapped in child-sized white stockings, caught on it and—
Teresa reacted instantly, catching Sophia just before she would’ve face-planted on the ground. But her bag wasn’t so lucky.
With her body shifting, the small satchel tumbled to the floor. The sketchboard inside clattered loudly, and the contents spilled everywhere.
“You okay?”
“Y-yeah.” With Teresa’s support, Sophia steadied herself and quickly rembered sothing. She crouched down, hurrying to gather the scattered sketches.
Of course, Teresa helped.
“D-Don’t look!” Before Teresa even started, she heard Sophia's slightly panicked voice.
Don’t look?
Teresa didn’t understand why Sophia was suddenly so worked up.
She hadn’t planned to peek at anyone’s artwork, but reflexes are hard to suppress. Without that warning, she might not have noticed. But now that Sophia shouted, Teresa’s gaze involuntarily drifted toward the strewn papers.
And then she froze.
Just as she suspected, Sophia was extrely skilled at painting landscapes, especially lancholic autumn ones: overgrown ruins, mossy abandoned castles, barren towns…
But beyond that, there were nurous figure drawings.
And they all appeared to depict the sa person.
The person was so familiar that, paired with Sophia’s incredible skill, Teresa recognized her imdiately.
Astrid.
So it was true—Sophia was likely a direct relative of Astrid. But...
Even for close relatives, wasn’t this… a bit much?? How intense must this feeling be?
She wasn’t in any place to judge other people’s family relationships. Teresa had siblings back on Blue Star too, and even her favorite cousin wouldn’t go this far.
Sophia had painted lots of landscapes—but nowhere near as many as the Astrid portraits. And how many were there? If Teresa had to guess, Sophia probably dread of Astrid, thought of Astrid all the ti, and that was how she produced so many Astrids.
After all, figure drawing required detailed anatomical understanding. Each pose was different, and there was no way Astrid had ti to pose for Sophia so many tis.
So of the poses didn’t even fit Astrid’s personality—there’s no way she would’ve struck those poses. Which ant Sophia must have drawn them purely from imagination.
To create such vivid and realistic drawings without any live model… Teresa dared not imagine how well Sophia knew Astrid. Down to every hair, every inch of skin.
It had to be either imnse familiarity or constant obsession—nothing else could produce results like this.
Still, it wasn’t that strange. Probably within the bounds of normalcy. The girl was likely Astrid’s junior, like a little sister. And for a younger sister to adore her elder sister to this extent… was fine… right?
“Where is it… where is it??...” Sophia was frantically searching through the scattered drawings.
Not knowing what she was looking for, Teresa’s gaze happened to fall on a black-and-white sketch buried beneath others. The faint smile on her lips took on a hint of sothing more… peculiar.
“Miss Sophia, I think this might be what you’re looking for?” Teresa pulled the partially hidden piece from the pile and waved it gently.
“Ah.” Sophia rushed over. “Yes, that’s the one…”
“You’re welco~” Teresa smiled sweetly as she handed the drawing back to the pale-faced Sophia. “But…”
“I know I don’t really have the right to say this, but I think Miss Sophia, you’re still too young. There’s no sha or gender in art, but when it cos to that kind of subject, maybe wait until you’re a bit older before diving in?”
“...........”
Sophia’s whole body went monochro as she took the picture from Teresa’s hand.
“There are still a lot of drawings left on the ground. Let help.” Teresa paid no mind to the girl now kneeling in despair, softly humming as she tucked her golden hair behind her ears and elegantly began to clean up the rest.
Soon, Sophia, having slightly regained her composure, chanically helped her finish gathering everything.
“All done. Good thing the cafeteria was mostly empty. If soone else had seen those, it might have made things awkward for both you and Miss Astrid.” Teresa handed over the last piece, her smile graceful.
“...Don’t tell anyone.” Finally breaking her silence, Sophia spoke as she tucked the drawing into her folder.
“Hm? What was that?”
“Don’t. Tell.”
Teresa tilted her head. “Hmm? What exactly do you not want to tell?”
“..........”
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
“I-I an the ones I drew of Sister Astrid. The black-and-white one, and all the others… Don’t tell anyone, okay!” Sophia blurted out, a little desperate.
“Ohh, so that’s what you ant. Don’t worry—I’m not the type to gossip about others’ personal interests.”
“So Miss Astrid is your elder sister? That explains how you’re so familiar with her body.”
“N-no… those were all just from my imagination…”
“Oh~~” Teresa’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “You really do care about your sister, huh?”
“...........”
Teresa’s gaze was warm, but Sophia still felt deeply uneasy.
Hearing Teresa’s assurance, she finally relaxed a little.
“Art… art isn’t supposed to be shaful…” Sophia muttered after a while.
“Hm? I never said it was shaful.” Teresa tilted her head again. “Unless… that’s what you think?”
“No! Not at all!” Sophia hastily packed her bag and fled, throwing one last line over her shoulder.
“If you dare tell anyone… I’ll drag you down with !”
“Pfft…” Teresa covered her mouth, wondering when she’d started to develop such a wicked sense of humor.
After finishing her salad, she returned the tray and left the dining hall.
On her way ho, Teresa picked up so label tags, a marker, and a fra from the academy’s general store.
Night blanketed the vast estate. The moonlit garden looked more serene and distinct than during the day, exuding a quiet charm in place of vitality.
The swaying flowers and foliage released a gentle fragrance. The moonlight cast a veil of mist over everything.
Swiping her card, Teresa entered the garden, closed the gate, and looked back at the stream and stone bridge. A sense of calm washed over her.
At the very least, this could be called a place of refuge.
At Coleman Academy, official teammates mattered a lot. The school had a strong culture around teams. Students got one chance to pick their teammates before formal enrollnt, and once chosen, it was hard to change.
Teammates lived under the sa roof, shared their studies and daily life—compatibility was essential. After all, even close companions sotis clashed. You couldn’t fight over every little thing, right?
Entering her ho, Teresa removed her [Golden Chalice Butterfly Ornant], and the noble golden-haired girl turned back into a plain black-haired boy.
Living alone in such a big estate did feel a little lonely. Maybe she should take in a few more people?.........
The thought had barely ford when Dylin imdiately rejected it.
Forget it—too much hassle. Living together made it more likely that soone would notice the issue between Dylin and Teresa. If it got exposed, the risk was too great. Not worth it.
At the door, Teresa looked down at the painting she’d received from Sophia. For so reason, her initial interest had faded—but she still carefully frad it and hung it on the first-floor hallway wall.
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