"Probably, hearing a sincere compliment from them is harder than getting them to prostrate themselves on the street and beg."
He sighed softly and brought the topic back to reality: "Alas, let's return to the immediate issue."
"According to what you said, even calculating at a minimum of fifty crowns per painting, the total income from thirty-two paintings reaches 1,600 crowns."
"This is a huge fortune, long since exceeding all the expenses your parents spent on raising you, even by more than ten times."
"So, from an economic standpoint, you owe them nothing."
"You have already repaid these so-called 'caring graces' tenfold with your talent and hard work."
Iris suddenly became a bit empty, blankly staring at the magnificent but cold main house of the manor nearby.
She muttered to herself: "Really? I truly... I owe them nothing? But... but..."
This deeply ingrained affection and guilt for family bonds still haunted her, preventing her from making immediate decisions.
Karl looked at her confused, self-doubting, and even weakly inclined to "excuse" her parents, and understood in his heart.
This was not only because it was difficult for her to accept the reality of completely separating from her parents and living independently, but also because it was more like a psychological state of "Stockholm syndrome."
Even if the perpetrator is a parent, the victim sometimes develops a deformed dependency and emotional bond with the perpetrator.
At that moment, Karl's hearing picked up movement in the distance.
He turned his head, his eyes piercing through the walls and the forest, and he clearly saw the scene outside the manor gates.
Iris's parents, along with a group of servants and a few guards, were hurrying back.
The father looked angry, scolding the servants guarding the gate, berating them for their stupidity and rigidity.
They would blindly follow orders and didn't know how to be flexible and report the visitor in a timely manner based on their status.
The servants were scolded to death; all bowed their heads, trembling and not daring to make a sound.
When Karl saw this scene, the corners of his mouth involuntarily lifted into a sarcastic arc, finding it ridiculous.
When the servant strictly follows the master's orders, doing everything diligently,
when something goes wrong, it becomes stupid and inflexible.
In short, when the master is in a bad mood, the servant can do nothing right, always the most ready punching bag.
He turned around, looked at Iris, who was still struggling in a daze, and raised his hand.
Then his mind activated the divine power, directing it towards Iris, and again used Zaydel's Protection.
Iris felt a warm current passing before her, and coming to, she was surprised to see the air before her.
A prismatic clover pattern with a complex structure, composed of shimmering lines, was forming.
She curiously reached out her hand, wanting to touch it, but the rune, under Karl's control, deftly retreated, avoiding her fingertips.
"Mr. Karl... what is this?" Iris asked in surprise.
Before she finished speaking, the Zaydel's Protection rune, cast by Karl and blessed with Freyja's divine power, turned into a ribbon.
In an instant, it disappeared into Iris's body and vanished.
Karl lowered his hand and explained with a smile: "A small protective spell, hoping to protect you from... being hurt by people with ill intentions."
He didn't say directly that it was mainly to prevent the Master of Mirrors from venting his wrath or her parents' dog from jumping over the wall.
Iris curiously lowered her head, turned the hem of her skirt, and twirled left and right.
She felt it carefully but found nothing unusual; the strange rune seemed to have fully integrated into her body.
Then Karl turned to the painting they had both completed together, extended his index finger, and lightly swept it towards the painting.
A thin wisp of divine power turned into a golden radiance, spreading over the entire canvas like a water curtain, then quickly disappeared, covering the painting with a layer of protection.
From Karl's magic of gathering petals to the protective spell manifested at that moment,
Iris's surprise at the beginning, to the curiosity she temporarily set aside for the sake of painting, finally erupted into full-blown amazement at that moment.
After sharing her tragic experience, she longed to know more about the man who cared so much for her, possessed mysterious abilities, and would likely become her fiancé.
She opened her mouth and was about to ask, but Karl smiled gently and clearly at her and spoke first: "Iris, your parents are back."
"Remember, the choice is now yours."
"If you want to leave, no one can stop you, because..."
His gaze was firm and full of support: "... your legs, you stand on them yourself."
As soon as she heard that her parents were back, Iris almost reflexively became nervous.
Her past experience subconsciously made her want Karl to leave quickly, to avoid unnecessary problems caused by her parents' discovery.
However, when she turned again and wanted to speak to Karl, she found the spot empty.
Karl's figure had silently disappeared, just as he had come.
Iris was stunned for a moment, then thought of Karl's elusive ability and immediately understood.
She pressed her lips together and, instead of being lost, relaxed and laughed softly.
She turned and walked to the painting, quietly admiring the free "herself" made of petals, and the figure beside her that brought hope.
When Iris's parents came back to the garden, they were surprised to find that their daughter had finished the painting so quickly.
Iris's creative process was always long and repetitive, taking several days of contemplation and preparation before the book was officially painted.
However, the painting before them could be felt at a glance, even by those like them who didn't understand art.
The level of appeal and exquisite skill within it were significantly higher than all of Iris's previous works.
The father examined the realistic silhouette of the painting and the dreamlike image of his daughter made of petals.
He couldn't help but smile with satisfaction: "Iris, it seems the Grand Duke is quite suitable for you."
"He can inspire you and even greatly improve your painting skills. If you can maintain this level of work in the future..." His eyes flashed with shrewdness.
"The monthly income from selling paintings could exceed the earnings of the family business. What do you think about betrothing you to him?"
Iris's mother, after her initial surprise, immediately focused on the potential value of the painting.
Echoing the words, she habitually reached for the painting: "Yes, good daughter."
"If this painting is sent to auction, it will be worth at least one or two hundred crowns, right? We can set the starting price high..."