The moonlight subtly brightens the corridor with white color, along which Terence is walking. The artist, who was hired by the owner of this estate, grumbles softly, holding an easel and other tools in his hands. The coolness of the night wind humming through the cracks of the palace quietly embraces him. The devil pulled him to accept this order. But he was promised free food while painting a portrait of that girl, who would refuse this? It's not every day that some rich dick orders portraits for a large sum of money. Plus, living in a royal mansion for a week, maybe two. For a poor artisan like him, this is a heavenly offer.He's not the best artist, why does some rich guy need him?

Terence thought as he approached the room where he was told the girl who needed to be painted lived. They didn't tell him who this girl was, who the owner was, but it wasn't his business. When he reached her room, he hesitated quietly and knocked softly on the door. If she is asleep, he will go to his room, if not, he will immediately set up his tools and go to sleep.