freenovelworld Chapter 75: I Want to Paint Your Portrait
Chapter 75: I Want to Paint Your Portrait
Aiwas meant Lily when he said “two people.”His request caught the classmates off guard.
—Was Aiwas so close to Her Highness that he could casually invite her to a new club?
Little Aiden clapped his hands, feeling a sudden clarity, as if solving a long-standing puzzle.
[I knew it—they’re connected!]
But they didn’t realize both Aiwas and Isabel already knew about the White Slipper Club.
The classmates were enthusiastic, agreeing instantly, nearly arguing over who’d be the inviter.
Though the inviter was also the guarantor, liable if the invitee caused trouble, inviting a big name brought prestige.
This was Avalon’s only princess!
Despite never meeting her, they were brimming with curiosity but lacked the chance or courage to approach.
Now, everyone knew Aiwas was the one bringing Isabel to the club.
He was just borrowing a slot from them.
Even if they couldn’t chat with the princess, they’d get closer to Aiwas—and bragging rights for “inviting” her, even nominally.
No responsibility, all reward.
A once-in-a-lifetime deal!
Aiwas sat in his wheelchair, smiling quietly, pleased with the scene.
He was satisfied with his actions, aligning with his aesthetics and logic.
Helping Lily get a student slot benefited Isabel, letting her flex her authority; it also helped him and Lily.
Securing Bard as his mentor, with future ruin explorations, was a win for both.
Now, getting Isabel a club invite thrilled both sides.
—All win-wins.
Zero-sum games weren’t as common as people thought.
Many conflicts stemmed from poor communication or needless greed.
With proper handling, both parties could gain.
Aiwas was the master matchmaker.
After settling the matter, Aiwas left with Isabel.
Haina asked for his dorm location and left—she’d guide him to his afternoon class later.
At winter’s noon, the sunlight was mild.
Isabel was visibly happy, hands behind her back, humming softly beside Aiwas.
For the first time, Aiwas saw a trace of girlish lightness in her—a carefree ease her age deserved.
She was touching a shadow of what should’ve been hers, already content.
Suddenly, Isabel turned.
“By the way, that painting might take a while to deliver.”
“It’s too precious. At home, without a museum’s preservation setup, it could get damaged.”
“So Teacher sent a letter to the Theocracy today, asking an old friend to come to Avalon and treat the painting with preservation magic.”
“It might be ready next month… is that okay?”
“If you don’t want to wait, Teacher can skip the friend’s visit. But the painting would need to go to the Moriarty Museum, marked as ‘donated to Aiwas Moriarty’—it’s yours alone, not the family’s.”
This was Teacher’s message—the “real reason” Isabel came, or so she thought.
“I’ll wait,” Aiwas said with a smile.
Saying “no trouble” or “whatever’s fine” would be a misstep.
“Since Master Yannis’s letter is sent, I’ll eagerly await that masterpiece at my home.”
His tone was light and cheerful.
They chatted about campus life.
Then Aiwas realized—they were heading to the cafeteria?
He’d assumed Isabel would suggest a fancy hotel or the Hall of Silver and Tin for lunch.
But it made sense; she came on a whim, without reservations.
“Your Highness… do you often eat at the school cafeteria?” Aiwas asked, intrigued.
“I’ve been once,” Isabel said.
After leaving the crowd, she relaxed, her voice smooth and lively.
Under the tree shade, she added softly, “But only once. Everyone sat in groups, chatting, eating—with friends or partners.”
“I didn’t know where to sit. I didn’t want to join others, but I was scared of strangers sitting by me.”
[You didn’t think to claim a table?] Aiwas thought, stunned.
He knew Isabel lacked the typical “princess” arrogance, but this was excessively polite.
Then he guessed, “Did someone hit on you? Or did you overhear gossip?”
“…Huh?”
Isabel froze, her steps halting, staring at him in disbelief.
Lily stopped the wheelchair under the shade, hands clasped, standing quietly behind Aiwas.
“Just a guess,” Aiwas said, smiling.
“…It’s true,” Isabel admitted, nodding with admiration, sighing softly.
“Am I being too sensitive? I told you yesterday I want friends… but when someone approached me, I felt uneasy and ran off.”
“Wanting friends doesn’t mean you must accept people you don’t like,” Aiwas said clearly under the noon shade.
“No friends yet doesn’t mean lowering your standards.”
“‘Friends’ are better rare than forced. Someone you twist yourself to befriend isn’t a true friend—you won’t find joy.”
“Master Yannis won’t give you a clear answer, but I will: you did the right thing, Your Highness. That’s my answer.”
“If the cafeteria’s too crowded, skip it. Let’s go to that villa you gave me—Lily’s cooking is great.”
“Or we can eat out nearby; my treat, to return last night’s hospitality.”
“Afternoon class starts at three, so if we skip a nap, we’ve got time.”
“…No need for that,” Isabel said after a brief silence, beaming.
“I already have a friend to eat and chat with now. So please, Aiwas, don’t call me ‘Your Highness.’”
“Can I just call you Isabel, then?”
Aiwas asked directly, no pretense.
“…You could call me Senior Isabel,” she mumbled.
Hearing Aiwas call Haina “Senior” felt like losing a title.
She was a second-year, technically his senior too…
“That’s not much different from ‘Your Highness,’” Aiwas teased, rejecting her suggestion.
“I’ll stick with Isabel.”
“…Then can I call you ‘Teacher Aiwas’?”
She grinned playfully, a bit more outgoing.
“I heard your classmates call you that. Is it your nickname?”
As she spoke, Isabel headed toward the cafeteria, Lily following in sync.
“Sort of, but I’m no ‘teacher.’ They’re just teasing,” Aiwas explained helplessly.
“I’m into history, so I self-studied a bit. But I don’t know much—just niche stuff.”
“It’s because Professor Bard wants me as his assistant that they’re joking.”
He slipped in a half-lie, tweaking the cause-and-effect for a natural, less dazzling image.
“Assistant? That’s amazing!” Isabel praised sincerely.
“Even third- and fourth-years rarely get that chance.”
“It’s just because Bard’s not great at teaching. He’s a respectable scholar,” Aiwas said.
“What a pity…”
The blonde, blue-eyed girl sighed regretfully.
“I thought, since you missed months of school, you might lag in courses.”
“I could’ve tutored you in shared electives.”
“You’re so impressive, Aiwas…”
In her eyes, Aiwas faintly overlapped with “Fox Mister,” her hunch that they were the same growing stronger.
A sudden, willful thought struck her.
Normally, Isabel rarely had such rebellious ideas, but since meeting Aiwas, these “rule-breaking” thoughts multiplied.
Like a statue moving or a painting smiling, things she thought unchangeable broke free.
Her clockwork routine reversed gears, transforming her daily life with novel, inspiring variables.
She gained a vague new insight into “magic paintings.”
Yannis had taught her often, but she’d never grasped it—a bold confidence to “break tradition,” a wild desire to “reshape the world with personal will.”
A drive to defy “plain paper” and “static frames,” capturing a fleeting “flowing beauty” from her mind onto canvas.
Without Aiwas, she might never have felt this inspiration…
She had a clear premonition.
—If she could see Aiwas lecture, she might paint her first magic painting.
Following her instinct, she asked tentatively, “Aiwas, when’s your next lecture?”
“Same time next week. Why?”
“Can I audit it?” Isabel requested.
[Isabel’s this bold with friends?]
Aiwas took a sharp breath, his fingers tapping the wheelchair armrest to calm his rattled thoughts.
“No problem… but don’t you skip ?”
“It’s for my sketching class’s final exam,” Isabel said firmly, no lie—she wasn’t good at lying.
“We need to paint a portrait. Can you be my model? I’ll pay.”
“No need for payment,” Aiwas said gently.
“If possible, after it’s graded, could you give me the painting? No one’s ever painted my portrait—this would be the first.”
“None?”
Isabel blinked, surprised.
To her, portraits were normal.
Before Yannis, she had several painted yearly; after, monthly.
From age seven to nineteen, her busts, full portraits, and family group paintings filled four rooms in the Hall of Silver and Tin.
Even if not royalty… the Moriartys were wealthy, right?
“Professor Moriarty never hired a painter for you?” she asked, puzzled.
“No,” Aiwas confirmed.
“Not just me—Yulia, Edward, even Father have no portraits. Not even ancestral ones at home. Maybe it’s a Moriarty tradition.”
“I see…”
Then Isabel caught the phrase “first painting.”
Her expression turned serious, a jade-like glow flickering in her eyes.
It was the first time Aiwas saw her look so grave.
He wasn’t used to it.
“Your first portrait…”
Isabel nodded, another jade glint pulsing like a heartbeat in her eyes.
“I understand. I’ll prepare well, Aiwas.”
This time, Aiwas saw clearly—Isabel, unaware, had briefly resonated with the Beauty path.
[With a pure “obsession with beauty,” is she about to skyrocket?]
A second-tier “polymath” painting a magic painting could mean advancing by mid-next month!
Aiwas was dual-path advancing, and his Dedication path was faster than most, but he’d still need to wait for others.
[Now I might be the one lagging?]
He got a bit serious.
[I need to grind some levels. “Fox” can’t be underestimated.]
His minor tweaks to the familiar plot—barely affecting the world, era, or politics—had nearly transformed Isabel’s life.
Realizing this, Aiwas fell silent.
He faintly grasped a new layer of the Dedication path, a golden-red glow flashing in his eyes.
He didn’t notice, but Isabel caught the familiar spark in his gaze.
It was too brief to confirm, so she only paused, saying nothing.
[We’ll see in a week.]
When she painted his portrait, opening her magic eye, she’d know.
Was his “color” that reddish-gold light?
More like fire than light, yet not burning or painful—like a setting or rising sun.
If Aiwas was truly Fox Mister…
Complex emotions swirled and settled, her thoughts clearing.
—That would be wonderful.
She thought.
*
First 10,000 subs, hooray! Cat’s first time hitting 10,000 orders! (Runs in circles)
Thanks for everyone’s support!
Thanks to Bei Chuan Nan Hai and Bapus Theorem for the Alliance Leader donations!
And a huge thanks to Tian Ze Lü for the Golden Moe—
Thank you, Tian Ze beauty, for the patronage—sincere kowtows, bang bang bang clang clang clang!
The cat’s drained food reserves are visibly replenished! Sob sob, the cat lives!
Today’s update is over 8,000 words, counting as an extra chapter!
Yesterday’s launch had only 2,000 words in reserve. Cat woke up and wrote furiously, napped at midnight from exhaustion, then wrote from wake-up to 11:30 AM to hit 14,000 words.
Fourteen hours of mad writing, paws numb, to finish the launch update…
Today’s 8,000 words took till 11 PM, and look—10,000 subs!
Sob, exhausted to fainting! But so happy!
Years of effort finally bore fruit! Thank you all! Cat will keep pushing for stable updates, cramming in as many words as possible!
Off to sleep—(peaceful collapse)
(Chapter End)