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I Accidentally Resurrected My Dead Husband - Chapter 133

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  2. I Accidentally Resurrected My Dead Husband
  3. Chapter 133
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Episode 133
“Perfection, perfection itself. The line from the neck to the shoulder, the shoulder width, the waist ratio, there is nothing to find fault with.”

As soon as Binche saw Ern, he began to praise her, saying that inspiration came to him like a waterfall. Ern didn’t even blink, as if it was a natural reaction, but he seemed to be secretly proud.

This is what a man who decided to live with you without divorcing you looks like. Is this what his expression was like?

“So, will you paint our portraits?”

Judith naturally thought that Binchero would readily agree. But unexpectedly, he let out a sigh of distress and turned away from Judith’s gaze.

When you praised me for being so inspiring, why don’t you draw it now?

‘Do you think we don’t have money to pay for a portrait?’

Still, I came wearing my best clothes.

As Judith’s shoulders slumped, as she was only afraid of money, Vincero licked his lips.

“I will draw your portrait, but there is a condition.”

“What are the conditions?”

“Yes, Sir Ern is the model for my other works.”

For Binche, portraits are a means of making a living, and he wants to expand his artistic world through other works, and he wanted Erne to be the model for those works.

“This is a painting of the god of war descending onto the battlefield and leading it to victory.”

If he was a god of war, he would want to use Ern as a model. Even though Ern was a mad dog of the empire on the inside, his appearance was worthy of being called a god of war.

“It’s not that difficult.”

“I’m the one who stands as a model, so why does it have to be Miss Harrington who decides what’s difficult and what’s not?”

Erne flared up next to her, but Judith simply ignored her.

“Then you will deduct the model fee from the portrait commission fee, right?”

“Of course. But I, that.”

Binchero suddenly stuttered and whispered as if telling a secret.

“The work I’m painting this time is a nude painting.”

“… …Who, a nude painting?”

“Are you talking about a painting of a nude body?”

Judith and Erne’s mouths opened wide at the same time.

“The God of War?”

Ern frowned as if in disbelief.

“What kind of crazy person goes into battle naked? Even if he’s a god.”

“That’s because it’s art.”

Binche said, rubbing his palms together gently so as not to lose sight of the perfect creature that had appeared before his eyes.

“Just because it’s a nude painting doesn’t mean I draw every part of it in detail. Of course, I’ll cover up the parts that need to be covered. If you look at this painting, I covered it up with the long bread and fruit on the table. What do you think? Is that okay?”

“… … .”

None of it is okay. No, it’s even worse.

“Since the painting of Sir Ern is a battlefield, we will cover it up with things like swords or billowing smoke.”

Erne shook her head firmly.

What the hell is this kid trying to do with that sacred sword?

“Instead, I’ll paint your portrait for free.”

Erne’s eyebrows twitched at the word free.

Surely you wouldn’t strip me naked to paint my portrait for free.

Erne’s eyes looked at Judith with anxiety. Even so, we decided not to divorce and live together, so would you show my body to other people? No, no, no… … .

“Wouldn’t it be okay if they said they’d cover everything, Ern? Free. No, who else would be the god of war if not Ern?”

… No, what is it?

Erne was speechless at the sight of Judith staring at him with sparkling eyes. She sold me to the arena, and now she’s selling me to a painter. And she’s naked at that.

“While I was drawing, that guy saw everything.”

Erne pointed her finger at Binchero.

“What if we see each other as fellow men?”

“Once my nude paintings are released, anyone can look at my body. I wonder if Countess Judith Rhineland is okay with it.”

Her name was upgraded from Miss Harrington to Countess of Rhineland, which meant that Erne was very upset.

But the sadness was fleeting, and the portrait commission fee would take a long time to earn. Judith thought.

“But the most important thing is that I can see it and no one else can.”

Of course, that important thing is that I saw it when Erne was a corpse and I haven’t seen it since, but if I ever get a chance to see it in the future, it will only be for Judith.

“… … How can you say something like that so casually?”

To Ern’s ears, those words sounded like a declaration that only he could see what was important to him, that he was my man.

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The back of her neck felt hot, so Ern rubbed it for no reason.

His heart had softened enough to grant Judith’s most modest requests, but he found it difficult to readily agree to paint a nude.

“then!”

Ern hesitated and could not come up with an answer. Then, Binchero, who was anxious about losing his muse, clenched his fist as if he had made up his mind.

“Is it okay if I just take my upper body off?”

“If it’s just the upper body, there’s no problem.”

No, Miss Harrington, are you naked? The words that had risen to the tip of Erne’s chin were lost in their tracks.

“Even if it’s just the upper body, it’s still half-naked, so the portrait fee is free, right?”

“I feel like I’m at a loss, but I’ll do it.”

Erne felt resigned as he watched Judith negotiating with Vincenzo over the cost of the portrait.

Yeah, do whatever you want, do whatever you want. It’s yours anyway.

“Sir Erne, are you okay?”

“Don’t you think it’s too late to ask that?”

“Hey, the mad dog of the empire can’t even take his upper body off?”

“… … I don’t want to hear that from you.”

Erne thought that he should pass on the nickname of the mad dog of the empire to Judith.

* * *

“Did you visit Mr. Binchero?”

“Yeah. He sat down as soon as he saw my face.”

“Yes? Why?”

“I thought you were the incarnation of the god of war. That painter, you were being too noisy.”

Ern started bragging to Zark as soon as she saw him, despite having called him a pervert and asking him to draw her nudes. It was revenge for Zark bragging about his pretty face.

While the two men were engrossed in a conversation about beauty in the garden of Baron Briggs’s house, in the drawing-room Judith was seeing off Viscount Wilbur.

“I’ll stop by Miss Harrington’s store sometime soon.”

“I will prepare it as you said.”

After the tea party at Baron Briggs’s residence, Viscount Wilbur, who had stayed behind to have a secret chat with Layla, unexpectedly ended up getting a candle deal from Judith.

As soon as the young lady, Wilbur, who had accidentally ordered incense, left, Leila flopped down into a slightly more comfortable position.

Although we throw tea parties for socializing, we can’t help but feel mentally and physically exhausted after the party.

“Living as a nobleman is not easy.”

Judith muttered absentmindedly, looking at Laila’s tired face.

“Are you the Countess of Rhineland?”

Layla asked playfully, as if she was dumbfounded. Judith looked at her with a look of surprise.

“I forgot.”

Judith often forgot that she was a noblewoman because she lived almost like a commoner.

‘It is a temporary nobility, after all. If the debt is not paid, the title will go to Mr. Smith.’

Still, if the business continues like this, it seems unlikely that the title will be passed on due to debt.

“But whenever I see Viscount Wilbur, her complexion seems to get worse. Is something wrong with her?”

“No, the situation is difficult there too.”

“Layla said, sipping her cold tea.

“Count Wilbur is a bit, how should I put it, an old man.”

He was an old man who thought that a family must have a son. He got married twice to have sons.

“The first countess gave birth to three daughters. The second wife gave birth to one daughter and one son.”

The young lady, Viscount Wilbur, who had just encountered Judith, was the daughter of his second wife.

“Count Wilbur sees his daughter as a business asset. He is a wealthy gentleman.”

“I guess Count Wilbur is rich.”

“He is a very rich man, known to all who know him. The other Wilbur wives have been married off to places that can only be described as being sold.”

This made the family increasingly wealthy. The three older sisters had married unhappily and now it was the turn of the young lady, Viscountess Wilbur.

“But I heard that your youngest son, whom you would never mind hurting, is sick. I heard that even the doctors don’t know what the disease is.”

Thanks to this, Viscount Wilbur’s daughter was able to avoid being sold into marriage. Not yet. In case something went wrong with his youngest son, he had to bring in a son-in-law, so Viscount Wilbur had kept one of his daughters.

“So he asked me if I had any good psychics. He stayed after the tea party was over to ask me that question.”

“A medium?”

“Yes, Wilbur Youngae must be wondering too. Whether her brother will die, or whether she will be sold to some old man’s second wife.”

The corners of Judith’s mouth slightly rose at the whispering voice of Laila.

In her mind, she had a brave, or rather, a brave medium as her teacher, but she remembered a medium playing at home.

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