Cassius and Maria had spent a long time moving slowly from one painting to the next, taking in every detail with genuine appreciation.
Maria made sure to compliment each young artist personally, praising their unique styles and the care they had poured into their work. Their faces glowed with pride at her words.
But it wasnât Mariaâs compliments that truly excited them.
It was Cassiusâs critique.
He had gone through each painting with a keen, analytical eye, pointing out subtle flawsâa shadow that fell slightly wrong, a proportion that was marginally off, a color choice that could have been more harmonious.
He spoke about perspective and composition, about light and texture, about the emotional weight carried by a single brushstroke.
Maria had initially wanted to stop him. It felt harsh, almost cruel, to criticize these young artists who had worked so hard. But the students themselves quickly reassured her.
"No, Lady Maria, please!" One of the girls had exclaimed, her eyes bright. "This is what we need! We want to reach the peak of our craft!"
Another nodded vigorously. "The Young Masterâs critiques are invaluable. He sees things we canât see ourselves."
And indeed, they had all produced notebooks and pencils, scribbling down every word Cassius said as if it were sacred scripture. They asked questions, sought clarification, debated fine points with him.
It was a masterclass, not a critique.
Now, with all the paintings reviewed, the students crowded around Cassius, their faces upturned with anticipation. They had received his individual feedback; now they waited for his final verdict.
Cassius cleared his throat.
"First of all." He said, his voice carrying across the group. "Give yourselves a round of applause."
The students blinked, confused, but obeyed. Hesitant claps turned into genuine applause as Cassius continued.
"Youâve all done a wonderful job. An absolutely wonderful job."
Smiles broke out across their faces as he went on to say,
"I already knew you had immense potential. Iâve always believed that each of you will go on to do great things."
He looked at each of them in turn, his gaze sincere.
"But after seeing the results youâve produced todayâeach of you creating masterpieces in your own distinctive styles, under such tight time constraintsâI know it with absolute certainty. Your names will be etched in history. Future generations will speak of you with awe."
The studentsâ eyes shone. Tears glistened on some lashes. To hear such praise from someone they revered so deeplyâit was overwhelming.
Then Cassiusâs expression shifted.
He frowned.
"But of course." He said, his tone turning heavy. "There is one aspect in which all of you failed. Collectively. Completely."
The students went still.
"Iâm honestly disappointed in you for that."
Their faces fell. Anxiety flickered in their eyes.
"The aspect in question is, admittedly, extremely difficult."
He admitted like he gave them too hard of a task.
"Perhaps too complex for you to fully comprehend at your current level. But still..." He shook his head "...I had expected better."
One of the boys stepped forward, her voice trembling slightly.
"Young master, pleaseâtell us. What did we mess up?"
"Yes, please!" Another chimed in. "We want to know! We want to improve!"
A third student, on the verge of tears, asked. "What could it possibly be that all of us failed at?"
They looked at him with nervous, desperate eyes.
Maria, standing beside Cassius, was shocked by his sudden harshness. She poked him in the waist, trying to silently communicate that he should stop, that he was being too hard on these poor children.
Cassius ignored her.
"Fine." He said, as if relenting. "Since everyone wants to know, since youâre all so eager to improve your skills, I suppose thereâs no harm in mentioning it."
He paused dramatically.
Then he pointed at Maria.
"The part you all screwed up on is...painting Maria herself!"
Everyone froze.
Mariaâs eyes went wide. She had not expected to be dragged into this.
Cassius continued, his voice rising with righteous fervor.
"Now, donât misunderstand me. Your paintings are masterpieces. Every single one of them deserves to be hung in prestigious buildings, admired by generations. You captured scenes, emotions, historiesâall of it beautifully."
He gestured at the canvases.
"But when it came to capturing Maria herselfâher essence, her beauty, her nobilityâyou all failed! Not a single painting truly represents how stunning she is in real life. The paintings show perhaps one percent of her beauty. Maybe two."
Mariaâs face turned crimson.
The students exchanged glances, trying to hide their smiles. They were beginning to understand where this was going.
Cassius, completely shameless, pressed on.
"Of course, the task I gave you was impossible from the start. Itâs like trying to draw an angel."
He looked up at the sky dramatically. "You canât capture divinity on canvas. You look directly at such a being, and youâre blinded by their glorious light. Maria is the same way."
Maria covered her face with her hands.
"Just looking at her, youâd be completely blinded by her beauty and the holy aura she emits. Drawing her is nearly impossible. I understand that."
He shook his head before looking at them.
"But still, since youâre all so proud of your skills, I thought you might produce something closer to the truth. I suppose I was hoping for too much."
Maria couldnât take it anymore.
She burst forward, playfully hitting Cassiusâs chest with her small fists, her face flushed scarlet.
"Cassius! This is too much! Even for you!" She looked up at him with flustered, pleading eyes. "How can you say such shameless things in front of others about me? Youâre bullying me! Youâre throwing me into a pot of boiling hot shame!"
Cassius just smiled.
The students, seeing an opportunity, decided to join in.
"Young master." One girl said, putting on an expression of wounded betrayal. "This is too harsh. Lady Maria is simply too beautiful to draw."
Another boy nodded sagely. "There are some things in this world that cannot be captured by human hands. Lady Mariaâs beauty is one of them!"
A third student clutched her chest dramatically.
"I might as well give up my paintbrush right now. Youâve truly shown me how incompetent I am. Drawing Lady Maria is impossibleâIâve been a fool to even try."
Maria looked around at their exaggerated expressions of despair and realized she was being played. By all of them.
She couldnât handle it anymore.
With a small cry of embarrassment, she buried her face in Cassiusâs chest, hiding from the world.
The students burst into giggles.
Cassius laughed too, ruffling Mariaâs hair affectionately. He caught the studentsâ eyes and gave them a grateful nod. They had played along perfectly.
"Anyway." He said, clearing his throat. "Even though none of you could truly capture Mariaâs beauty, you still did excellent work. And for that, you deserve a reward."
The students perked up.
"Youâll each receive a set of high-quality art supplies, the kind thatâs hard to get your hands on. And not just for you, but for all the students back at the academy."
"Everyone will get personalized kits tailored to their needs."
He gestured toward a table in the distance.
"Theyâre over there. Go ahead and claim yours."
The students erupted.
"Thank you, young master!"
"We love you! We love you so much!"
"This is the best day ever!"
They rushed toward the table, laughing and shoving each other playfully, their earlier despair completely forgotten.
Cassius watched them go, a fond smile on his face. Then he looked down at Maria, who was still hiding in his chest, trembling slightly.
"Itâs alright, Maria." He said softly. "Theyâre gone. You can look up now."
Maria didnât move.
"Theyâre really gone." He assured her. "I promise."
Slowly, hesitantly, Maria lifted her head. She peeked over her shoulder, scanning the now-empty tent. When she confirmed that they were indeed alone, she stepped back and looked up at him.
Her eyes were narrowed. Her jaw was tight. She looked like a small, angry kitten trying very hard to appear threatening.
"Cassius." She said, her voice strained with forced calm. "Can you bend down a little? Come down to my level?"
He blinked. "Why? Whatâs wrong?"
"Just do it, please." Her voice was tight. "I want to do something."
Curious, Cassius bent down.
The moment his face was within reach, Mariaâs hands shot out and grabbed his cheeks. She pulled them hard, stretching his skin, her expression a mixture of genuine fluster and playful fury.
"How dare you, Cassius!" She pulled his cheeks outward, making his face distort comically. "How dare you tease me so much!"
He tried to speak, but his words came out garbled through his stretched cheeks.
"Iâve bared with it all day!" She continued, her voice rising. "Iâve endured your compliments and your flattery and your shamelessness, thinking they were just simple jokes."
"But thisâthis was too much! Even for you!"
She pulled harder.
"You teased me in front of all those children! Iâm pretty sure they were all laughing at me! And now theyâre going to tell their friends and their families, and everyone is going to hear about how the Saintess of Compassion turned into a blushing mess!"
Her face was bright red.
"Just thinking about it makes me want to dig a hole and hide! And itâs all because of you, you naughty, naughty boy!"
She released his cheeks and crossed her arms, glaring up at him.
"I swear, one day Iâm going to give you a proper spanking. You mark my words."
Cassius rubbed his sore cheeks, but he was grinning.
"Maria, I was simply telling the truth. Itâs not like I was trying to tease youâ"
She grabbed his cheeks again.
He laughed, the sound muffled by her grip. "Iâm sorry, Iâm sorry! Iâll behave!"
She held on for a moment longer, glaring, then finally let him go with a huff.
"I donât know what to do with you." She muttered.
But she wasnât really angry.
Her heart was racing. Her cheeks were warm. And deep inside, buried beneath the embarrassment and the fluster, she felt something else.
Happiness.
In this world, couples rarely showed affection openly. Men, especially, considered public displays of emotion to be a weakness. They would never shower their partners with compliments in front of others, never risk looking foolish or soft.
But Cassius didnât care.
He had stood in front of a group of young artists and declared, with absolute sincerity, that Maria was too beautiful to be captured by paint.
That looking at her was like staring into the sun. That her beauty was divine, angelic, impossible to replicate.
And he had done it without a shred of shame.
Not because he was trying to show off. Not because he wanted to embarrass her. But because he believed it. Every word.
Maria looked up at himâat this impossible, shameless, wonderful man and felt her heart swell.
She wasnât embarrassed.
She was appreciated.
Truly, deeply, completely appreciated.
And that, she realized, was worth a thousand teasing comments and a million blushes.