Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 1012 - 58 White Eagle Mansion_3
Chapter 1012 -58 White Eagle Mansion_3
However, as a seasoned victim of regional discrimination, Winters harbored no particular animosity towards the people of Flora. This was because when he attended school in Guidao City, United Provincials would often lump all Venetians together, indiscriminately branding them as living debauched lives and leading extravagant lifestyles.
Winters decided to say a word of justice: “[In the old language] It’s just a few portraits.”
“[In the old language] It’s not just a few portraits, my lord.” Anna corrected with a smile: “[In the old language] Judging from the technique, the earlier ones can hardly be made out as colored paintings of people, at least two hundred years old…probably the work of some slave artist.”
“[In the old language] So?”
“[In the old language] Two hundred years and hardly any fading of the pigments apart from the accumulation of dust—what might that be?”
A sudden unease surged in Winters’ heart. Lady Navarre would not casually raise questions beyond his scope—if she asked, it meant that Winters knew the answer…or rather, should remember it.
Winters racked his brains and finally found the answer in a corner of his memory: “[In the old language] Lapis Lazuli.”
“[In the old language] Correct, having awkward painters use precious lapis lazuli for their art, isn’t that generous enough for the people of Flora?” Anna praised with a twinkling smile: “[In the old language] I only mentioned it to you once, and you still remember.”
Winters coughed lightly: “[In the old language] It was twice. Once was in Sea Blue, after the celebration parade when I bought you the painting; the other was at Mitchell’s estate in Wolf Town.”
Anna did not speak again but clung more tightly to Winters’ arm.
Behind them, Caman, with a dark face, asked gruffly: “[In the old language] Can I get something to drink? Baron, sir?”
“[In the old language] Monks are allowed to drink alcohol?” Winters asked purposely.
“[In the old language] Of course they can.” Caman said expressionlessly: “[In the old language] But I only want to drink ice water right now.”
After speaking, Caman bowed respectfully and strode toward the other end of the hall.
After Caman left, Anna pulled Winters to look at a few more paintings, feeling somewhat bored: “[In the old language] They’re all portraits of Da Este, let’s not look anymore.”
Winters scanned the hall, jokingly saying: “[In the old language] So many portraits, could it be that White Eagle brought all the White Eagles with him?”
“[In the old language] Because the pigments are expensive.” Anna said matter-of-factly: “[In the old language] Painters are not painting for themselves, but for their employers, so naturally there are many portraits. Behind a complete colored work, there might be dozens of sketches, those uncolored drafts are the real possessions of the painters.”
Recalling the uncolored drafts in Anna’s folio, Winters had his revelation. He wanted to say something remorsefully but ultimately swallowed the words of apology.
“[In the old language] I can also draw a portrait for you.” Anna whispered intimately: “[In the old language] For free.”
Winters, who had just been engulfed in self-reproach, was suddenly aroused by some dreadful memories, and he vigorously shook his head: “[In the old language] No, no, let’s not, we can talk about it some other time, in the future…”
“[In the old language] Hmm.” Anna sounded disappointed and dragged out her reminder: “[In the old language] In the future, we will have plenty of time.”
“[In the old language] That’s true, why rush things?” Winters immediately agreed.
Anna squeezed Winters’ arm tightly, then sighed and said with a smile: “[In the old language] Alright then! It’s time I hand you over!”
“[In the old language] Hand me over?” Winters was puzzled: “[In the old language] What do you mean?”
“[In the old language] You have the gentlemen’s circle, and I have the ladies’ circle, it’s time to hand you over to others.”
Understanding Anna’s meaning, Winters still wanted to stay with Anna a little longer: “[In the old language] I only want to be with you.”
Anna’s cheeks flushed: “[In the old language] At such a gathering, if I cling to you all the time, I will be seen as jealous, and you will be considered henpecked. So go, mingle with the other gentlemen, and pursue other ladies.”
Leaning close to Winters’ ear, Anna added gently: “[In the old language] If you dare, just try.”
“[In the old language] I don’t know why.” This time it was Winters who blushed: “[In the old language] You look so cute right now, I’m even tempted to deliberately court other ladies just to provoke your anger.”
Anna, flustered and annoyed, blurted out in her native language: “I’m leaving!”
Anna turned and left from Winters’ side, she passed through the gentlemen who stepped aside to let her through and gracefully walked over to the sofa by the silver tea stove, quickly blending into the ladies’ conversation.
This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.
That left me alone—Winters quickly realized this.
To be fair, although Borso da Este was the owner of an extraordinarily grand house, he was not a competent host, especially when compared to Lady Navarre.
Lady Navarre could make every guest feel welcome, place every conversationalist in the most suitable circle, and ensure that no one felt neglected.
Borso couldn’t do that, or rather, he couldn’t be bothered to.
So, he didn’t introduce “Baron Granashi” to anyone else, nor did he take the trouble to place the baron in a suitable spot. Just the effort of standing and exchanging pleasantries was the utmost respect he would give.
Excluding the internal banquets of his military school days, the number of times Winters had appeared in public social events were very few. It was foreseeable what would happen when a newcomer to society meets an irresponsible host.
And so, Winters found himself being left out in the cold.
Carlo Aide was engaged in conversation with a few elders; Anna was in the midst of the ladies from Steel Fortress, she hardly appeared Venetian; even Caman was chatting happily next to the long table at the far end of the hall.
Winters assessed the situation, deciding whether to join Caman for a drink, casually blend into a chattering group, or continue to admire the majestic statues of the White Eagles where he stood.
While he was still considering which route would be less painful, a servant from the Este family approached him, saying courteously: “Your Excellency, please come with me. A gentleman wishes to see you.”
“[Old language] Who wishes to see me?” Winters asked.
The servant blinked in confusion and repeated: “Your Excellency, please come with me. A gentleman wishes to see you.”
Winters chuckled resignedly, pulling out a Gold Coin: “[Old language] Answer my question, and it’s yours.”
The servant glanced at the coin and back at Winters, repeating for the third time as clearly as possible: “Your Excellency, please come with me. A gentleman wishes to see you.”
Winters pondered for a moment then tapped the coin in his palm and nodded.
The servant led the way, and Winters followed, wary, as the two left the hall one after the other.
At the end of the corridor between two outer walls, Winters finally saw the face of the person who invited him—a tall, slender middle-aged man with tired eyes.
In front of the middle-aged man, on the windowsill, there were a bottle of wine, a wine glass, and a bucket of ice.
There was also a wine glass in the middle-aged man’s hand, its pale golden contents nearly depleted.
The middle-aged man poured himself half a glass more wine, then half-filled the unused glass and gestured for Winters to take it.
Winters made no move.
The middle-aged man smiled, took a sip from his glass, and then handed the glass to Winters.
Even so, Winters just took the glass, and with his left hand at that—the Gold Coin still tapped in the palm of his right hand.
The middle-aged man took the spare glass, sipped a little, looked out of the window at the garden and asked nonchalantly, “Which class were you from?”
“[Old language] What?”
“Don’t play dumb.” The middle-aged man glanced at Winters, took off a ring and placed it on the windowsill, a mocking smile flashing across his face: “Which class from the Military Academy?”
