Chapter 121

The painting depicted a serene landscape, a canvas of rolling hills and undulating waves, with thevast river’s surface mirroring the silhouettes of distant towers amidst the misty ripples. It exuded asubtle elegance and a timeless charm.

In the bottom right corner, a red seal marked the creator’s pseudonym: Nana.

Lorna gazed at the name, her expression tightening just a notch.

It was a moniker her college professor had given her, but she preferred the one she had casuallychosen for herself, Lorn.

However, with Fanny breathing down her neck, her artwork had no place in the studio. Friends hadsuggested a change of pseudonym might do the trick.

And so, today, she had painted another piece, ready to test the waters.

Setting the stamp aside, Lorna looked up to see Cordelia peering curiously at her work, promptingher to ask, “Hey Lia, do you want to learn watercolor painting?”

The thought sparked a gleam in Cordelia’s eyes as she nodded vehemently, “Yes, please!”

Lorna, hearing this, peeled the painting off the easel and laid it on a nearby table. She then spreadout a fresh sheet of watercolor paper and handed Cordelia a paintbrush, saying, “Watercolorpainting is all about balance ink for form, color for life. To capture a landscape, you’ve got to masterbrushwork, ink flow, composition, and color…

After a succinct introduction, Lorna demonstrated with a few strokes of her brush, and a distantmountain came to life on the paper.

Handing the brush over, she encouraged, “Give it a shot.”

Cordelia, who had learned calligraphy back at the orphanage, wasn’t versed in painting but had aknack for imitation. Her slender script had once been indistinguishable from the original, deceivingmany.

She pondered for a moment before making a couple of marks on the paper.

Lorna was astounded, “You sure you’ve never done this before?”

Cordelia just shook her head.

“You’ve got a steady hand there! And this mountain… it’s the spitting image of mine!” Lorna’s eyesshone with excitement. “Lia, how about’l teach you after school?”

Lorna had always loved painting it was a passion that calmed the soul and was steeped in knowledge.

Cordelia gleamed with joy. “I’d like that.”

Lorna pointed out the books on the shelf, filled with photographs of famous paintings. “Take a lookat these when you can,” she said, then gesturing to the rolled–up canvases beside them, Those aremy works from eighteen years ago. One even won a prize.”

Cordelia, intrigued, reached for a scroll, unfurling it halfway when Lorna offhandedly asked, “Oh, didyou need me for something?”

Cordelia paused, then remembered, “Oh, it’s dinner time.”

The two shared a moment of silent understanding before Lorna coughed lightly, “Shall we headdown for dinner then?”

“Sure,” Cordelia replied, glancing at the half–unrolled masterpiece in her hands, reluctant to leave itbehind.

Seeing her attachment, Lorna offered, “Do you like it? I’ll get it framed and hang it in your room –consider it a gift from your mom.”

Cordella’s eyes sparkled with delight, “Thank you!”

They descended to find the rest of the family already seated in the dining room. Sanderson wasbiting back a smile, and Everard raised an eyebrow, already mingling with the others.

Mathilda huffed. “I told them not to call you two, I wanted to see how long it’d take for thebookworms to remember food. Huh, only forty minutes not bad!”

Lorna laughed at the sarcasm, saying to Cordelia, “I used to lose track of time when I painted as agirl. Your granny wouldn’t call me or wait miss mealtime, and I’d go hungry. At least now they waitfor us.”

“I’m waiting for Lia, not you. Don’t starve my granddaughter. Lia, come here- the soup is fresh andwarm,” Mathilda beckoned Cordelia over.

Cordelia found only two seats left at the round table. She sat between Everard and Mathilda.

As she approached, Everard unexpectedly stood and pulled out her chair, a gesture of chivalry thathadn’t been present at their previous casual meals at Midnight Scent.

The meal unfolded with Everard playing the attentive suitor, serving Cordelia her favorites, whileLorna took mental notes, appreciating the details that Everard seemed to know about herdaughter’s tastes.

When Lorna inquired what Everard liked, Cordelia, who had been surprised to learn of hersupposed preferences for chicken wings and eggplants, looked up blankly, “I… don’t know.”

Lorna and Sanderson exchanged glances, their looks toward Everard filled with empathy.

Their daughter’s mind was occupied with her studies, not romance. Only someone like Everardcould endure, right?

Such was the perplexing state of affairs at the dinner table.

Everard had just captured a wave of attention when he spoke, his gaze calmly cast downward.“Mrs. Delaney, I’m up for anything, as long as Lia likes it.”

Cordelia was at a loss for words.

After the meal, Lorna warmed up considerably to Everard. When he was leaving, she even made apoint to tell him, “Everard, you should come over for dinner more often.”

Everard glanced at Cordelia, the tall six–foot–two guy asking in a hushed tone, “Is that okay?”

Before Cordelia could respond, Lorna chimed in, “If I say it’s okay, it’s okay.”

Sanderson also joined in, “If there’s anything you’re unsure about in business, feel free to ask meany time.”

“Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Delaney, take care,” Everard said before turning to Cordelia, “Looks likeLia’s eager to hit the books upstairs? Then you don’t need to see me out.”

Cordelia, who had no intention of walking him out, managed an, “Oh… right.”

Once Everard was gone, Cordelia made her way back to her room. After a moment of thought, sheopened her laptop and typed a message into the Pioneers Group chat:

LearnLover said, I want to ask about someone.]

Mathster replied, [Lia, go ahead.]

Planoman asked, [Who?]

Painter echoed, [Who?]

LearnLover continued, [Do any of you know someone named Everard Watkins?]