Chapter 990
Chapter 990:
The studio was large, quiet, and only lightly occupied. A few people were painting, while a handful of others looked on curiously. It wasn’t unusual for exhibitions like this to include spaces where visitors could try their hand at art.
Fernanda found a station and spread out a sheet of paper, carefully weighing down its edges. She selected a brush, dipped it into the paints, and began.
She started with several maple trees in the foreground, their branches decorated with clusters of vivid, colorful leaves. A meandering path stretched into the distance, leading to a quaint cottage tucked between the trees, enveloped in swirling mists.
In the background, mountains rose majestically, their peaks shrouded in mist. The layers of the mountains faded gradually into the distance, creating a sense of depth and grandeur.
Despite the vibrancy of her subject, Fernanda chose to keep the painting in monochrome. This absence of color gave the piece a dreamlike, ethereal quality, as if it were a fleeting memory captured on paper.
As she painted, she became utterly lost in her work, oblivious to her surroundings until the piece was finished.
When she finally stepped back, she realized she was no longer alone. A crowd had gathered, their expressions a mix of awe, admiration, and disbelief.
They watched her in complete silence, waiting for the final detail—her signature.
The studio, though packed, was so quiet that even the faintest sound would have echoed. From the elegance of her brushstrokes and the atmosphere of the painting, many had already guessed who she was—but no one dared to say it aloud.
No one wanted to disturb the magic of the moment.
With steady hands, Fernanda dipped her brush once more and, in the lower right corner of the painting, drew a single rose. The symbol was unmistakable yet enigmatic, embodying the spirit of her work.
F𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓬𝗵𝒶𝓹𝓉𝓮𝓇𝓈 𝒾𝓃 g𝓪𝗅𝗇ovє𝗅𝓈.🅒𝗈𝗺
A sudden clatter broke the silence—a phone had fallen to the floor near her feet.
Fernanda leaned down to pick it up, offering it back to its owner.
But they didn’t reach for it. When she looked up, she found herself face-to-face with the same young man who had confronted her earlier.
His wide eyes were fixed on her, his lips trembling as though struggling to form coherent words. At last, he managed to stammer, “You… you’re Rose?”
The man had just exited the restroom and was glancing around casually when he saw Fernanda painting.
He silently sneered, doubting the artistic talents of such a young woman. Then he decided to walk over and perhaps offer her some patronizing advice.
As he drew near, Fernanda was completing a painting of two maple trees.
He was able to assess her ability by the nuanced execution of the trees. From just a few brushstrokes, he realized Fernanda was genuinely talented.
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