Since that day, I continued working on the paintings whenever I had spare time.

The piece featuring Arina and Mary together was completed in two versions: one in neoclassical style and the other in romanticism.

For the neoclassical version, I highlighted the heroic aspects of Grand Duchess Arina, portraying her in armor and wielding a sword.

The romanticism version, however, focused on the beauty and camaraderie between Arina and Mary, emphasizing their warmth and mutual respect.

‘Painting is so much fun.’

Back on Earth, I could barely draw.

But here, in this body as Arad, I could do anything with my hands—except for real combat. Thanks to these “golden hands,” I became genuinely engrossed in painting.

Whether it was something I saw in reality or merely imagined, I could bring it to life on canvas with ease.

This newfound talent had become a source of joy and a hobby I thoroughly enjoyed.

"That’s right! I should also create a few solo portraits of Arina. The official justification is to depict the Grand Duchess of the North."

"If I’ve started, why not try an impressionist approach this time?"

"Maybe… surrealism or cubism? Would that be too much for Arina? Better to try those with Mary."

As I worked, I naturally extended the project to include other versions of the paintings.

And so, about two weeks passed.

"This is starting to feel… kind of stalker-ish…"

When I finally snapped out of my fervor, I realized I had entered the realm of overkill.

My third-floor bedroom was now filled with 23 portraits and paintings of Arina and Mary, each rendered in a variety of artistic styles.

The 50-pyeong (approximately 165 square meters) room had transformed into something akin to an art gallery.

"Hmm… Maybe I did go a little crazy."

Just looking around at this space of obsession brought me back to my senses.

"It’s time to return to normal life."

If anyone saw this, they’d probably be terrified.

And so, I decided to rein in this short-lived yet intense hobby before it spiraled further out of control.

***

Lately, Arina had been increasingly worried about Arad.

At work, he seemed half-hearted, leaving promptly as soon as the day’s tasks were done.

Even his usual tutoring sessions had been postponed for a while.

"What is he even up to?"

She had long grown accustomed to his eccentricity, to the point where little could surprise her anymore, but worry was another matter entirely.

Of course, she had asked him directly what he’d been up to.

Each time, Arad had only grinned and replied, "It’s a secret."

"It can’t be about the painting… can it?"

The first thing that came to mind was his recent focus on painting.

"Surely he’s not obsessing over it like he did when he was crafting the bag or the prosthetic arm."

The thought crossed her mind, but she dismissed it just as quickly.

"Paintings that large must take time to complete. And there are two of them, after all. Even he would take his time with something like that."

Back when he had been working on the bag and the prosthetic arm, Arad hadn’t yet fully launched his business. At that time, he’d lived more like a half-idle tinkerer.

But the Arad of now was a very different man.

To Arina, who had observed him closely, he was someone who strictly separated work from personal matters, a responsible adult.

More importantly, someone as capable as Arad wouldn’t let something as trivial as painting cause him to act strange.

"It must be something else… Something serious!"

Her thoughts began to drift in another direction.

"Could it be… a woman?!"

Her mind jumped to the worst possible scenario.

"Lately, he’s been heading to the company building far too often…"

With Mary’s face in her mind, Arina felt her heart grow colder than it had ever been.

"Why didn’t I notice? Why haven’t I heard anything about this?"

Even the mere thought of it made her hands and feet tremble with frustration.

"It’s Arad we’re talking about. He would’ve covered his tracks thoroughly."

Suddenly, Arina shot up from her seat in the office.

"Lady Mary? Is something wrong?"

The abruptness of her movement drew the attention of her staff.

"Where is the president?"

Ignoring the gazes directed her way, Arina immediately inquired about Arad’s whereabouts.

"He mentioned having some business and left early, as he has been doing recently."

"!!"

Once again, Arad had left early, without so much as informing her.

Sure, he had announced in advance that he would be leaving early for the foreseeable future. But in her current state of mind, Arina couldn’t care less about that.

"I’ll be leaving early as well."

Arina grabbed her fur coat and stepped outside the building.

She headed to the nearby stable, where the area resembled a parking lot, and mounted her horse.

A top-tier steed, bred to endure the harshest winter conditions, swiftly carried her toward Arad’s residence.

***

As Arina arrived at the headquarters of Arad Company, she was greeted by Jarvis, the building caretaker and a former servant of the High Citadel.

"Lately? Once he comes home, he doesn’t leave the third floor," Jarvis said with a polite tone, fully aware that Mary—Arina’s current guise—was of notable status, even if he didn’t know her true identity.

"And do you know what he’s doing up there?"

"It seems like he’s painting," Jarvis replied.

"Painting?"

"Yes, but I’m not sure about the details. He instructed me not to enter his room."

"I see."

"I’ll go stable your horse now."

"Make sure to give it some carrots and water."

"Understood."

"And is the president on the third floor now?"

"No, he stepped out a while ago, saying he needed to buy something. He should be back soon. You can wait for him on the first floor."

"Got it."

Left alone in the empty building, Arina stood silently in the foyer, her brows furrowed.

"Is it really about painting?"

The thought puzzled her.

"Would he really be so engrossed in painting that it affects his work like this?"

She understood the significance of creating a portrait of the Grand Duke of the North—it wasn’t a task to be taken lightly.

But would it require so much dedication that he couldn’t focus on his duties? That seemed a stretch.

"This is all for Arad and the North," she rationalized to herself, trying to quell her unease.

As Jarvis headed to the stables and with Arad still out, Arina decided to seize the moment and discreetly make her way up to the third floor.

The door creaked faintly as she opened it cautiously. Fortunately, it wasn’t locked.

"What could possibly be in here?"

Her heart pounded so loudly she felt it echo in her ears.

Slowly, she stepped inside Arad’s room.

"…?"

What greeted her left her frozen in place, her expression blank with shock.

Inside the room, Arina was met with… herself.

At least 20 portraits filled the space, all unmistakably of the Grand Duke of the North—of her.

Using Arad’s own words, the room was a shrine of obsession and artistic fervor.

"…!"

But to Arina, it was something entirely different.

"Wow…"

She couldn’t help but let out a breathless exclamation.

For someone who had never truly appreciated art, the vibrancy and beauty of these portraits left her awestruck.

The colors, the details—she wondered if they had been painted with divine pigments.

"I’ve never seen paintings like these before."

Each portrait depicted a different aspect of her: her attire, expression, mood, even the artistic style varied widely.

In some, she was a heroic knight and ruler, exuding power and authority. In others, she was a romantic, graceful lady of nobility.

Then there were paintings so vivid and intense that they seemed to jump out at her, leaving her stunned and mesmerized.

"Beautiful…"

She couldn’t take her eyes off the works, moving from one to the next as if entranced.

Her emotional peak came when she stood before the two largest paintings in the room.

One depicted her as the Grand Duke in full knightly regalia, and the other portrayed her alongside Mary—herself in disguise—highlighting their duality.

Tears streamed down Arina’s cheeks as she gazed at the grandiose imagery.

"So it really was about the paintings," she thought, finally convinced.

All her earlier suspicions and worst-case scenarios faded like dust in the wind.

But then, a question lingered in her mind as her emotions settled.

"Why would he paint so many of me…?"

Arina wiped her tears away and stared at the sea of portraits that surrounded her.

"Could it be…?"

It didn’t take long for her to arrive at a possible explanation.

"He still thinks about me. Not Mary, but Arina!"

Her heart raced with newfound determination.

If Arad had painted her this many times, it had to mean something.

"I’ll reveal the truth. I’ll tell him who I am. And… I’ll confess!"

She decided then and there.

This time, she wouldn’t hold back. She would take off the disguise, drop all pretense, and declare her feelings for him.

But just as she steeled her resolve, her gaze fell on a peculiar set of three paintings tucked away in a corner of the room.

"…? What kind of paintings are these?"

They looked nothing like the others.

"Sketches? Or… something else?"

She stepped closer, her curiosity piqued.

These paintings were bizarre, their forms distorted and surreal.

"…."

The closer she examined them, the more her expression darkened.

"Could these… be of Mary?"

The more she studied the strange images, the more convinced she became that they depicted her current persona, Mary.

"Why would he paint Mary like this?"

One painting showed an unsettlingly irregular face with mismatched proportions, its pallid skin resembling that of an undead.

Another was a surreal collage of plants, animals, and food, all forming Mary’s likeness.

"Why did he paint Mary this way? What does it mean?"

The thought left her unsettled.

For the first time, her earlier excitement and joy gave way to doubt.

"Does he really think so little of Mary?"

Suddenly, Arina’s bold resolve faltered.

"I can’t reveal my identity yet."

What if Arad’s perception of Mary—of her—changed irreparably upon learning the truth?

"Lady Mary is here?"

"Yes, but she seems to have stepped out momentarily."

The sound of voices echoed from downstairs. Arad had returned.

"Take this to the first-floor hall for now. The third floor is too cluttered at the moment."

"Understood."

Hearing Arad’s footsteps approaching, Arina acted on instinct.

She bolted for the window and slipped outside just as the door to the third floor creaked open.

***

Two days later.

Arad arrived at Glory Hall with twenty paintings, each carefully shielded with protective covers.

"Count Arad Jin’s paintings are finally finished!"

"Let’s go! Quickly, let’s go see them!"

"They’re paintings by none other than Count Jin! They’re bound to be extraordinary!"

The rumor spread rapidly throughout the entire Northern Stronghold.

Soon, people of notable reputation and position in the Stronghold, along with their families, swarmed to the hall in droves.