Chapter 5

My Husband Lives Inside the Painting

Ah, and by the way, Camille was an excellent cook.

“I want something made with potatoes.”

“Sure. I was just craving that myself.”

“I’m in the mood for spaghetti today.”

“Easy. Just wait a moment.”

“Camille. Do you know what bungeoppang is?”

There wasn’t even a kitchen in the tiny little house, but no matter what I asked for, Camille would have an impressive meal ready within minutes.

“This is it, right? Bungeoppang.”

“……Yes.”

And it looked exactly like the one I had imagined in my head.

“How on earth do you know what bungeoppang is?”

I had asked questions like that more than once.

But whenever I brought up something similar, Camille always gave me the same answer.

“Does it really matter?”

And before I knew it, I had started agreeing with him.

‘He’s right! That’s what matters. The important thing is that he’s alive like this.’

I was sitting on a bench beneath the shade of a tree near the house, tearing off pieces of the bungeoppang’s head and eating them while enjoying the peaceful scenery, when Camille suddenly approached and gently wrapped his arms around me from behind.

“Is it good?”

At the unfamiliar physical affection, my body seemed to stiffen for a moment.

“……Where did you go?”

“To the lake up ahead.”

I felt uncomfortable.

I subtly pushed his hands away and changed the subject.

“I was actually thinking of going to the lake too…… What’s it like?”

I tried hard to act casual, but Camille, who was quick to notice things, didn’t answer. He simply stared at me.

Just as I began to feel tense under his gaze, he smiled as though nothing had happened.

“There wasn’t really anything worth seeing. I much prefer being by your side anyway.”

“……Really?”

“Yeah. And speaking of that, there’s something I want to do with you.”

“What is it?”

Camille’s hand came toward me alarmingly fast, hooking beneath my chin and lifting my face.

“Something like this.”

A cold shiver crawled up my spine like a snake. The moment his face drew close—

My hand moved first.

Smack—

“……Ah.”

Only afterward did I realize what I had done.

‘W-Why did I push Camille away?’

He was my husband, wasn’t he? The man I loved more than anything, the reason for my life?

As though I had made a terrible mistake, an inexplicable sense of guilt washed over me belatedly.

Unable to bring myself to look at his face, I spoke.

“You seem to have changed a little.”

Then, as though making an excuse, I added,

“You weren’t like this before……”

A brief silence followed.

Camille was the one who broke it.

“I suppose living in a place like this would change anyone. This painting without you…… was terribly lonely.”

“……”

His words subtly stirred my guilt, and my shoulders instinctively shrank.

“Still, I’m not comfortable with kissing.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because…… we’ve never even done that before.”

But why was I explaining this to him?

There was no way he could have forgotten that I didn’t like physical affection, and that I had always kept my distance from Camille because of it.

A strange sense of incongruity ran down my spine.

At times like this, it felt as though Camille were an entirely different person.

“……Oh. Was that so?”

Yes. Just like now.

Camille rolled his eyes as though deep in thought.

“A married couple, yet surely you didn’t even spend your wedding night……?”

“What are you mumbling about?”

“Hmm? Nothing.”

He had already returned to his usual expression. With a sweet smile, he casually plopped himself down beside me.

A little while later, once my heartbeat had returned to normal, I spoke to him again.

“More importantly, tell me about yourself today.”

“About me?”

“When did you first come to be inside this painting?”

Camille’s eyes widened as though he had never expected me to ask such a question.

But an answer soon came.

“At some point, I felt as though my soul were drifting around before gradually scattering apart. While searching for somewhere to take shelter, I saw your painting, and the moment I touched it, I lost consciousness.”

“Ah……”

“And when I opened my eyes again, I was already inside.”

I hadn’t expected him to tell me the truth. But what he said didn’t sound like a lie, either.

“But when you first came here, there wasn’t a flower field this vast.”

Camille continued calmly.

“You kept filling in the empty spaces, one by one.”

“What?”

Something about those words bothered me.

“Filling them in? Wait. Does that mean……?”

I stammered, my mouth hanging open.

“D-Did you watch me paint the entire time?”

“Yeah. You certainly had a good drinking speed when it came to wine.”

“Ah……!”

Oh, God! I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide immediately.

Once it truly sank in that he had seen me crying so pathetically, embarrassment burned across my face.

I whipped around and grabbed my hair.

As soon as the emotions that had burned so fiercely inside me began to settle, Camille suddenly spoke.

“Oh, since we’re talking about that, there’s somewhere I want you to come with me.”

“Now?”

“Yeah. There’s something you need to help me with.”

His eyes held a quiet light. His gaze seemed to say that refusing had never even crossed his mind.

“Ob, you’re the only one who can do it.”

For an instant, an indescribable sense of foreboding enveloped my entire body.

Even so, I couldn’t refuse him.

The place he led me to was beneath the hill, the very spot where I had first fallen into this place.

A single canvas covered with a white cloth lay there all alone.

It looked strangely out of place in the middle of the field, where there wasn’t even a hint of wind.

‘……Was this here before?’

Just as the question briefly crossed my mind, Camille swiftly pulled off the cover, revealing the scene on the canvas all at once.

“This is……”

The studio in the mansion where I used to paint.

And the figure standing in the center with a bewildered expression was none other than—

“……Romain?”

She was the maid from my mansion.

A moment later, Romain’s eyes trembled faintly, and the sight of her taking one step after another vividly appeared on the canvas.

At the same time, I heard her voice.

“My lady…… Where on earth have you gone?”

“……!”

It was as though two worlds existed side by side, separated by nothing more than a single canvas.

“Do you know her?”

“She’s my maid. But what on earth is this……?”

Unable to continue, I moved closer to the canvas.

I could clearly see the brushstrokes and the texture of the paint.

Just as I was wondering how any of this could possibly be happening, Camille calmly continued explaining.

“This canvas is a passage connecting this place to reality. It’s also the entrance through which you and I came in.”

“An entrance……?”

“Yes. If you don’t believe me, see for yourself.”

I hesitated for a moment before cautiously reaching my hand toward the canvas.

But the instant my fingertips touched its surface, my entire arm was swallowed into the painting as though being sucked into a vacuum.

“Eek!”

I jerked my hand back in surprise, and Camille casually said,

“Be careful. You might actually get sucked in.”

I looked down at my palm, and the strange sensation still lingered in my hand.

“D-Did you experience the same thing?”

“Me?”

Was it just my imagination, or was there a trace of ridicule in Camille’s voice as he repeated my question?

“I…… didn’t. It would be faster if I showed you.”

Camille placed his hand on the canvas exactly as I had.

But at that very moment—

Ping!

With a sharp sound, his hand was repelled backward as though it had struck an invisible barrier.

Startled, I instinctively raised my voice.

“Camille!”

“I’m fine. But…… you saw that, right?”

Camille casually shook his hand. Then he turned his gaze toward me.

“Ob. I can’t leave this place. I’m trapped inside your painting.”

The moment I swallowed, my heart sank.

“What did you say?”

His unexpected words left my mind blank.

When I first saw him, I had simply been overwhelmed by the fact that I could see him alive again.

Perhaps, just as he had said, my desperate longing really had brought him back here.

‘But if he can’t leave my painting……’

Then that meant he wasn’t truly alive, even if he was living.

“Ob. That’s why……”

Camille quietly placed his hands on my shoulders.

“Will you help me get out of this painting?”

His voice dropped even lower.

“It’s not too late. You’re the only one who can help me.”

For a fleeting moment, raw desire shimmered intensely in Camille’s eyes.

A cold shiver crawled up my spine like a snake, and an uncontrollable tremble escaped between my lips.

“How can I……?”

“It’s simple.”

Camille grinned.

“All you have to do is give me your soul, Ob.”