Katrina's Side Story
Canvases taller than a man leaned against the wall in a row, and brushes of all sizes were scattered about the room. The floor, splattered with colorful paints of green, orange, and white, looked like a work of art itself.
In that room, a man stood before a freshly finished painting, nodding his head in satisfaction.
"Whew... Done."
He examined the painting carefully, nodded once more, and then dragged the easel (a tripod for holding canvases) over to the window.
He moved it to let the gentle breeze dry the paint, but he placed it facing away from the window to keep it out of direct sunlight.
"Now, shall I prepare dinner before Katrina gets back?"
He muttered to himself and limped towards the kitchen.
I mustn't forget to hide this painting later, he thought.
While Katrina was out running errands, Ellen wanted to surprise her.
Today is going to be a very special day for us.
Katrina's lover, Ellen, thought of her as he prepared the ingredients in the kitchen.
Ellen and Katrina had met three years ago.
It was quite a fateful encounter.
Born the second son of a wealthy merchant, Ellen had enjoyed painting since he was a child. Born with a congenital limp in one leg, he couldn't play actively, so he found solace and joy in doodling.
With the full support of his generous father and mother, and his heir brother, he learned painting from a very good teacher and developed his own style, eventually moving to the capital.
Living alone in Orville, a city of beautiful architecture, Ellen produced dozens of paintings and held his first exhibition.
It was also a moment that would decide the fate of the novice painter.
Fortunately, his paintings, which were generally idyllic but with a touch of splendor in the details, were well-received.
But there was a problem.
While the paintings in the exhibition were basically available for sale, there were a few that he had specifically told the exhibition organizers not to sell.
One of them was a portrait of his mother, whom he hadn't seen in years, painted with longing in his heart.
The modest mother in the painting wore a faded purple dress, her bright red hair, like the morning sun, flowing in the wind as she stood gracefully in a vast meadow, her back to the twilight.
It was a fleeting portrait captured in Ellen's eyes when he was a child.
Ellen had painted the picture and trembled with joy. A painting that truly captured the scenery in his mind, his mother would be delighted if he gave this to her as a gift.
He had no intention of selling the portrait.
But it was sold.
Due to a mistake by the exhibition organizers, a few paintings that he had said not to sell were sold. Ellen was angry and complained, but the novice painter only received an overbearing apology, and they did not retrieve the paintings.
The others didn't matter. Determined to get his mother's portrait back, Ellen went to find the person who had bought it.
- Knock, knock
The house he visited was covered in dust on the door frame and windowsill, making him wonder if anyone even lived there.
As he wondered, 'How can a door frame that people use get so dusty?', and was checking the address to see if he had come to the wrong place, a sharp voice came from inside.
"Who is it?"
The door swung open to reveal a woman with her evening sunset-like red hair tied back.
Startled by the woman, whose eyebrows were also red and sharp, Ellen stammered as he introduced himself.
That was the first meeting between Ellen and Katrina.
He politely asked Katrina if she could sell the painting back to him, and Katrina refused as if it were a matter of course.
Her excuse was this.
"I like it because it looks just like me, so why should I give it back? I paid for it fair and square."
Ellen, sensitive, trembled at her words.
'How dare she say it looks like her! A woman who looks like she'd tear down anything that offends her eyes!'
He couldn't help but purse his lips and said, "This is a portrait of my mother, and I was going to give it to her as a gift. I would really appreciate it if you could return it."
Usually, when one speaks so politely, the response is long and courteous, but her reply was short and simple.
"Then what about me?"
As if Ellen's situation was none of her business, Katrina asked back with her clear eyes.
Slightly offended, Ellen thought, 'Why don't you figure it out yourself!', but he took a step back.
He offered to paint a separate portrait of Katrina in exchange for the return of his mother's portrait.
Of course, Katrina insisted that she would only return the portrait of his mother after he had painted her portrait.
To think that of all the people to sell it to, it had to be her.
Ellen became anxious. He couldn't bear the thought of the painting being in the possession of such a rude woman for long.
Oh, just look at that dirty window frame.
From then on, Ellen would limp to Katrina's house and paint her portrait.
But the portrait she desired was quite absurd.
At first, Ellen painted her as the strong knight she appeared to be, but Katrina rejected it, saying she didn't like it.
She wanted to be painted more feminine and gentle.
'But this is already toned down!'
If he made it any softer, it wouldn't even be a portrait anymore.
Still, as long as he got his mother's portrait back. Ellen forced a customer-pleasing smile and painted again.
"This doesn't look like me?"
And it was rejected.
It was a very valid and appropriate objection.
Even to Ellen's eyes, the revised painting looked nothing like her. As if every woman with red hair and red eyebrows wasn't Katrina.
'What does she want...?'
Realizing that painting a portrait had gone beyond the realm of art and into the realm of creation, Ellen left, dejected, promising to return.
Just then, Katrina called out to him.
"Hey. You're limping, I'll come to your place from now on. Where do you live? Same time as now?"
Ellen looked back at her with surprised eyes.
A rude woman who didn't even clean her house and called people "Hey" after only meeting them a few times.
On top of that, a knight of the royal family, a certified thug who went around throwing her weight around, that was his impression of Katrina.
But as someone with a limp, it was a truly grateful offer for Ellen, who found it difficult to walk long distances.
He gave her his address (the blue roof on the second alley of Roselin Avenue), and Katrina made time to stop by his house.
"Oh my~ What's with this dump?"
She said as soon as she entered his house.
Except for art supplies and canvases, Ellen's house was bare. It was probably because his limp made him neglect to stock up on daily necessities and food ingredients, but...
'Look at your own house!'
At least Ellen's house was clean.
Katrina was the type of person who would buy all sorts of necessities but found cleaning bothersome.
She continued, unaware that Ellen was suppressing his anger.
"I've heard that artists are broke, but I didn't know it was this bad."
"...No. I just haven't bought anything because of my leg. I have money."
"Hmm~ Is that so?"
From then on, whenever Katrina visited his house, she brought some necessities. Of course, it was a joke, but she would demand he pay for the delivery and squeeze more money out of him. Saying that the rich artist should give alms to the knight.
What a load of…
But the necessities she brought always included alcohol.
Ellen, who had come to the capital alone, had no friends and didn't enjoy drinking alone, so bottles of alcohol piled up in his house.
Then one day, Katrina, visiting his house, saw the unopened bottles of alcohol and threw a tantrum, saying he was disregarding her sincerity. Ellen couldn't understand why she was angry after taking his money, but he apologized anyway.
Her anger appeased by his reluctant apology, Katrina scoffed and said,
"Then drink with me. Poor thing. You can't even walk properly and have no friends."
Ellen's blood pressure shot up, but Katrina patted him on the shoulder and urged him to sit down.
What a bully.
Thus began their drinking sessions, which continued every day, and Ellen gradually began to understand Katrina as a person.
She was a person who acted on her temper and said whatever came to mind, but she was also unexpectedly kind and soft-hearted.
This was the reason why Katrina liked the portrait of his mother. She wanted to be a gentle person like the mother in the painting.
As Ellen came to understand her, Katrina's portrait was quickly completed.
He captured her strong and fiery nature in her red hair and eyebrows, yet her eyes were warm, her sword-holding hand graceful, and her clothes, while painted in bold colors, flowed softly.
On the day the portrait was finally finished, Ellen presented it to Katrina.
She was ready to reject it, but she seemed pleased. She gently caressed her portrait and said in a subdued voice,
"...You don't have to come anymore. It was a pain."
Katrina muttered curtly, hiding even a hint of regret, and turned around, striding away.
The portrait of Ellen's mother was cleanly wiped and placed behind the door.
It seemed she had intended to take it back after rejecting the portrait.
Her retreating figure looked strangely vulnerable.
Ellen limped after her, grabbed her by the shoulder and arm, and turned her around.
Katrina, despite being a knight, seemed unable to resist his strength and allowed herself to be held. Their lips met in a deep kiss.
And so they became lovers.
Ellen smiled fondly, remembering their first meeting as he tossed various ingredients into the pot.
A hearty stew, the meat for which Ellen had gone out of his way to buy, despite his limp.
Katrina would love it.
She had been craving meat lately, saying she was stressed since injuring her shoulder on the battlefield. But her delicate condition couldn't escape Ellen's keen eye.
She was pregnant.
Despite three years of living together, they had not been blessed with a child.
Katrina's aggressive swordsmanship took a toll on her body, and her constant training left no room for a child to grow in her womb.
But things changed when she returned from the battlefield with a shoulder injury and started skipping training as often as she ate. She had been craving meat lately, and Ellen realized that they had finally been blessed.
He had tried to persuade Katrina to quit the Knights, and she, frustrated with her declining swordsmanship, reluctantly agreed.
Yesterday, Katrina had resigned from the Knights.
Seeing Katrina complain that her fellow knights and seniors were all away at war and only the new recruits were awkwardly standing around like screens at what should have been her honorable retirement ceremony, Ellen made up his mind.
He would propose today. He would tell her he thought she might be pregnant; she would be overjoyed. Katrina had always dreamed of being a loving mother.
But with her fiery temper, would she really be able to be a gentle mother?
It would be something to see, Ellen chuckled to himself as he cooked.
Just then, he heard a muffled scream in the distance. A familiar voice. Startled, Ellen limped towards the window.
This doesn't bode well.
Perhaps a gust of wind had blown in through the open window, for the canvas that had been leaning against it lay fallen on the floor.
On the fallen canvas, a woman with sunset-red hair, dressed in a beautiful gown, her belly slightly swollen, smiled brightly.
Wow, this novel has some dark moments.
ReplyDeleteKeep it up. Very good translation and the novel has an interesting premise. :D
ReplyDeletewow
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