The Duke in the Spire of Thorns

Celeste has been mixing paint for a long time.

He likes light colors, so when mixing paints, he uses white paint as the base color and adds a small amount of other colors. He has already made light pink, light blue, and milky yellow.He originally wanted to draw a dreamy and magnificent sky, but the idea in his mind was extremely monotonous without any bright spots, so he was unable to write for a long time.

He tried hard to calm himself down, but he couldn't.The brain that had been constantly flashing sparks of inspiration was blank. He looked at the drawing board in front of him, but he couldn't think of anything.

It shouldn't be like this.

Celeste was upset, he picked up the paintbrush, dipped the adjusted paint at will, and began to smear on the drawing board, and the snow-white canvas was messed up by him.He looked at a messy canvas, the fresh and pale colors mixed together, and it became a little hideous. He threw down the paintbrush in his hand and stood up.

He opened the door and said to the manager waiting outside, "I want a cup of black tea."

Outside the door is his study room. The tall bookcases are full of books. These books do not have a common theme. They are piled up on the bookshelf in miscellaneous places. Novels and popular science magazines are mixed together, and picture books and professional books of various subjects are interdependent. cuddle.He reads books very casually, he just takes out a book from the bookshelf and reads it, no matter what it is, he can continue to read it.When you're done reading it, put it on your bookshelf.

As a result, the bookshelves are messy, and the manager sometimes expresses dissatisfaction, but Celeste always prevaricates it with "this is the artist's style".

The manager's name is George, a sophisticated old gentleman, he guessed it by looking at Celeste, "Still uninspired?"

Hillest nodded, and he sat down in front of the desk dejectedly, leaning on the soft back of the chair, "It's been a whole year, I don't know why it happened...Maybe I shouldn't have learned to draw in the first place."

He paused and corrected, "No, I shouldn't have participated in that auction at all."

George didn't speak, but he agreed with the second half of Celeste's words in his heart.He shouldn't have been in that auction at all.That auction became a turning point in the life of this noble young master.

Not a good twist.

Celeste has said this countless times over the year, and George steered clear of the subject, "Seriously, I think you should listen to me and pick a soothing town to relax, city life isn't for artists .”

Celeste was silent for a while, and in the end, instead of refusing like before, he nodded and agreed.

George didn't expect Celeste to compromise like this all of a sudden, but this didn't stop him from being happy. He smiled and took out a few reference points that he had prepared a long time ago, "Elsinore, Marang, Isri De and Keno, these places are very good, or do you want to choose another place for yourself?"

"...I'm going to Lobito."

Celeste said as if discouraged: "I'm going to Lobito, Devine Manor."

George swallowed the disapproval that was about to blurt out, his face was covered with a worried expression, but his mouth pretended to be brisk: "Ah, there is also a very good place, but you are too familiar with it, I think you should find a Brand new place."

"Don't talk about George, I'm going to Lobito, I've made up my mind."

George finally couldn't bear it anymore, "You haven't been there for a year and a half, and you're about to get rid of it. If you go now, all your previous efforts will be in vain, you know?"

"But I miss him." Celeste said stubbornly, "It's in vain, I don't care."

"Think!" George's voice rose. "What's there to think about a painting? How many years have you thought about it? Is it worth it?"

George had one more sentence left to say, and he restrained himself, otherwise he might have said "It's been so long, he might be dead." But he couldn't, it hurt too much .

"That's not just a painting." Celeste sighed, "I think it's worth it."

George also sighed. He is Celeste's manager and also his friend. He didn't want Celeste to waste a year and a half of hard work, but after Celeste made up his mind, he also Can't stop him.

"...Since you insist." George nodded, "I'll book a train ticket for you, I hope you don't regret it, really, Hill, that's just a painting, you're not normal."

Celeste didn't speak.

George was a great manager and he quickly arranged everything for Celeste and they boarded a train to Lobito the next day.

The scenery outside the window is receding, the traces of the city gradually disappear as the train advances, and the beautiful rural scene appears outside the window.The train was staggering and moving forward slowly, Celeste yawned. He didn't sleep all night last night, and now he was sleepy, so he simply fell asleep on the train.

George booked a box, so Celeste slept comfortably. George woke him up from his sleep. A bunch of golden clouds drifted past the train window, and it was already evening.

After getting off the train, they boarded a four-wheeled carriage, and the coachman took them to the gate of Devenan Manor.

The sky had completely darkened, and the Devine Manor surrounded by night could not see the whole picture clearly, only a brilliant and majestic outline was vaguely revealed.

This is a very gorgeous manor.

Celeste walked forward at a leisurely pace, he was so familiar with this place that he could find his way in without lights.George fell behind him, and he took a few steps quickly, heading straight for the gate of Devine Manor.

The gate of Devenan Manor is very thick, and it is difficult to break through from the outside after being locked. When he left, Celeste thought that he would never come back.

At that time, he walked out of this door and threw the key in his hand into the lake in the garden, intending to bid farewell to his past.He left and tried to live a normal life, endured the discomfort and went to restaurants with ladies and gentlemen introduced by his parents, he went hunting, and tried to develop his new hobby, but it was all in vain.

He's back now.

The door was heavy and locked, and he didn't have a key, though he never needed one to get in.He pushed lightly, and the door opened, and when George, who was lagging behind, stepped forward, Celeste had already opened the door.

He put away the key in his hand, "You still have a spare key hidden."

Celeste smiled: "I can open this door without a key."

George shrugged.

After entering the door, Celeste pressed the light button. Instantly, the originally dark living room became brightly lit, and the surrounding furniture was covered with a layer of white cloth to prevent dust from falling. Celeste walked forward, and he Gently lifted the white cloth covering a painting.

All the furniture and paintings are covered with white muslin, only this painting is different, it is covered with white silk from a distant eastern country, the silk is light and slippery, and falls to the ground with gravity.

This is a very large painting, hanging in the center of the wall in the hall. It shows a handsome man with black hair, green eyes, and pale complexion. He sits on an armchair and looks down at Celeste.

Celeste couldn't take his gaze away, he couldn't help reaching out to touch it, and suddenly, he withdrew his hand abruptly.He took a few steps back and said to himself: "I'm back, my dear, you still look good."

George was busy removing the white cloth from the furniture, the hall was very silent, and the words Celeste was talking to himself fell into his ears, and he showed a helpless expression, like a father watching him insist on going That's the look on my daughter's face when she jumped into the fire pit.

He has arranged everything, and after a while, the chef will arrive with the ingredients, and the carriage will bring new bedding, and the rest will be discussed tomorrow.

Celeste and the painting looked at each other for a while, as if it was not a painting, but a living lover. George didn't want to see him like this, and drove him upstairs, "Go to your own room, or Take a break, or do whatever you want, and get out of the way downstairs."

"The cook will be here in a minute, and I'll ring the bell to tell you to come down for dinner."

Hillest nodded, he was very considerate of George's mood, and reluctantly stepped upstairs.

This is also an improvement, now he no longer wants to stand in front of that picture all the time.

Upstairs, he walked through the corridor familiarly, and found his room. His room was also locked, and he threw away the key.George probably thought he had a spare key, but he didn't.

He stood at the door of the room, twisted the handle tentatively, and the door opened, as if it hadn't been locked.

The scene inside the door was also very strange. He remembered that he had covered all the furniture in the room with white cloth before he left, but now, the furniture in the room was exposed to the air and was spotless. The soft orange lights were on, the quilts on the bed were neatly spread, the fireplace was also lit, and the orange flames danced quietly.It was as if someone knew he was coming back and had prepared ahead of time.

Celeste was not surprised, he walked into the room and closed the door.He touched the pillows, they were soft and dry, with a sweet smell.

This is a magical manor, and Celeste knew it early on.So he firmly believed that the person who once owned this manor was a wizard, and wizards would not die so easily.

Although he sent people to search for a long time over the years and failed to find the whereabouts of the "wizard", Celeste still believed that he was not dead.

He sat down in the easy chair and put his hand to his forehead.There were neat letter papers on the table, and the pen was put aside. He put down his hand covering his forehead, picked up the pen and scratched on the snow-white letter paper. As expected, a dark blue mark appeared on the letter paper.

Celeste held the pen and wrote a name on the letter paper: Escrito.

In the next second, he crossed out the word, closed the cap of the pen, crumpled up the letter paper and threw it into the trash can beside him.