The Master Painter and the Forbidden Room – Part 04
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Translator: Kell
When did he even write that? Now that I think about it, he was writing something while walking through the forest. So he was composing a poem. Never underestimate an artist.
But despite the bard’s efforts, the room remained quiet and still. Maybe they weren’t home? Before I could ask the question, there was a single slam on the wall.
The bard’s eyes opened wide. “An actual response. That’s rare. It’s proof that they’re in a good mood today! Maybe it’s ‘cause I’m back.” He was overcome with emotion.
“Wait, hold up,” I said. “I thought you guys lived together. A single slam on the wall for a greeting? Is that all? What the hell… Are you sure he doesn’t hate you?”
“How rude! They don’t hate me! The painter is extremely shy. Stays in their room all the time, and because they never come out, the servants call the room the Forbidden Room. I, her brother, can’t even enter.”
“Forbidden Room? Wait, brother?!”
“Didn’t I tell you? The painter is my sister. Step sister, to be precise.”
“Sister?! The painter is a woman?! She paints these lewd images?!”
“Call them sensual!”
“They mean the same thing.”
“Changing the way you call it will leave a different impression on the listener. The painter has a fragile heart. Please choose your words carefully.”
I closed my mouth. Much easier to just shut up than choosing what words to say.
“It started out with a poem about the Goddess that I composed for my sickly sister. She was so happy that she painted a picture of the Goddess. She was ten at the time, and it was a marvelous piece of art. Then she started calling me Master and I called her painter. She’s the only one who can create the perfect painting out of my poems. She’s the greatest gift the heavens have ever sent me!” Upon finishing his passionate speech—bordering on being creepy—more banging on the wall reverberated throughout the room.
“She’s shy, so when she gets compliments, she gets embarrassed and punches the wall. Isn’t she just adorable?”
“Uh, I don’t think she’s embarrassed at all. Probably creeped out and pissed.” I softly pressed my forehead.
“As someone with a problematic brother, I can not help but sympathize with the artist,” Zero said, turning to the ceiling with a distant look in her eyes.
Zero’s brother—Thirteenth. A man who, for the sake of his sister, waged a war that engulfed an entire country based on his wrong assumptions. Excessive familial love was not only annoying, but could also be stressful for the loved one.
“You know, it feels like I’ve heard this story before,” I said.
“Really?” Zero said. “Are there other tales of a painter’s step sister who locks herself up in a Forbidden Room?”
“And the brother’s a poet too, or something… I think it’s a very famous story.” I desperately searched through my memories, but I couldn’t remember anything about it.
“Hmm… Well, the world is a big place. I would not be surprised if there were siblings somewhere in similar circumstances. You have also traveled all over the world.” There was a hint of envy in her voice. “When everything settles down, I would like to travel the world leisurely.”
“For the record, I’m not going with you. Once everything’s over, I’ll become human, open up a tavern, and lead a quiet life.”
“Then I will use your store as a base for my travels. I will depart at the beginning of the year and return at the end. I will bring back many rare ingredients and you will cook them for me. Does that not sound exciting?”
It felt like I lost, because like she said, it did sound exciting.
I turned to the bard. “Has your sister always been like this?”
“No. It was two years ago when she started adamantly refusing to go out.”
“Hmm. So around the same time she stopped being able to paint?”
“Correct.” He laughed bitterly.
The man had made a lot of wild, pompous gestures, but his expression this time seemed genuine.
“Actually,” he said, lowering his voice. He probably didn’t want the painter to hear him. “I have an idea why. Two years ago, she was commissioned to do a portrait of a noblewoman, and my sister went to the manor alone. Apparently, something happened then. She wouldn’t tell me anything, no matter how many times I asked.”
“As the days went by, we started talking less and less,” he continued. “I haven’t heard her voice for a year now. Now she only talks to me by slamming the wall.”
“Just force the door open.”
“No way. I don’t want her to hate me.”
Are you sure she doesn’t already hate you? Deciding it was none of my business, I kept my mouth shut. As long as we had a place to stay, I’m good.
“But if she doesn’t come out, there’s no way she can paint. You’re not going to tell us to wait for her to come out of her room, are you? ‘Cause we don’t have time for that.”
“I won’t make you wait that long,” he said, shaking his head, “About a year ago, a lost traveling troupe came to our house. They had a rare creature with them.”
“Really, now? What kind?”
“It was dreadful and sinister. It had three heads, arms and legs, and the body of a snake. The painter really wanted to paint it, so she came out of her room for a little bit to make a draft.”
“A female painter inspired by a sinister creature, huh? Ugh, whatever. I thought she couldn’t paint anymore.”
“Yes, but then she was able to finish the painting in one go. I don’t have the painting itself, though. Gave it away to the troupe. So anyway, I thought that she simply ran out of subjects for her paintings. A spectacular subject should motivate her to get back into it. That’s why I’m always out there looking for one.”
“So I am like a rare animal,” Zero muttered.
“I think it’s close enough,” I said, holding back the urge to laugh. “Especially the dreadful and sinister part.”
“I can not believe it is not Mercenary being treated like a beast.”
“Please don’t take offense,” the bard said. “I’m sure your beauty will inspire the painter to work. I’ll be happy just to see my sister in good health, if only for a glance. I hope we at least exchange a few words, though.”
The artist would be too nervous to come out if we were waiting for her near the door, so we decided to make ourselves at home.
I borrowed the kitchen and prepared a meal for four—me, Zero, the bard, and the artist—while dodging Zero’s constant attempts to taste the food.
Apparently, though the artist never leaves her room, if you just leave the food in front of the door, the plate becomes empty before you know it.
“It’s like feeding a wild animal,” I said. It might sound strange coming from a beast like me, but it felt weird eating at the table while human food was on the floor.
“I usually eat on the floor, too,” the bard said. “And talk while facing the Forbidden Room. But we have guests today, so gotta eat at the table.”
The poet stroked his clean-shaven chin. After shaving, combing his hair, wiping his body, and changing into decent clothes, he was an unquestionably handsome man. I even felt bitter. I thought that with his looks, his exaggerated gestures could be excused.
“I hope one day I get to eat on the table with my sister again.” The way he gave a weary sigh made him look like the perfect lady-killer. For no reason at all, I was tempted to smack him. I knew I was just jealous, so I held myself back.
I shot a glance at the Forbidden Room. I could sense the presence of someone holding their breath and feeling uncomfortable from the other side of the wall.
Looks like this is gonna take a while.
Just as I was biting into a loaf of bread, I heard the sound of horses galloping in the distance. It wasn’t just one or two horses, either. The sound of wheels indicated there was a carriage with them.
While I was wondering what was going on, several people surrounded the house. I tossed my meal aside and stuck to the window.
The sun had gone down, and night was falling outside, but it was still bright enough to see the grass on the ground clearly.
“Whoa, whoa. What’s going on here?” I said. “Those are armed knights!”
The torches in their hands illuminated the area around the house.
“A-Armed knights?!” the bard exclaimed. “Why would they come here?!”
“That’s my line. You got any idea?”
Zero, stuffing a piece of bread into her mouth, rushed to the window to check the situation outside. “Perhaps they are mistaking this place for a bandits’ hideout.”
“A reasonable assumption, but I don’t think that’s the case. See that guy over there?”
The man who left a while ago, cursing, was among their ranks. Clearly their goal was the paintings, or more specifically, the painter herself.
I’d tell them to escape through the back of the house, but it was probably guarded as well.
“This looks bad, bard.”
“H-How bad is it?”
“We could die.”
“We are knights serving the governor!” a knight bellowed. “Refusing to comply with His Grace’s request and instead handing over a painting to lowly entertainers is clearly an act of treason and an insult to His Grace! We have been ordered to arrest the painter and lock them up! There’s no escape. Come out quietly!”
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