Chapter 970: 0568 Painting (Part 2)

The person I drew... is it you?

Gazing into Felicia’s emerald eyes, feeling the complex emotions within them, Prince Andre hesitated for a moment, then asked with surprise:

“Felicia? Why ask that? Who else could the person I drew be but you?”

“Andre brother...”

The emerald-eyed girl pressed her lips together, avoiding his gaze as she whispered:

“I’ve counted—when you want to avoid a question, your favorite trick is to answer it with another question.”

“...”

“Actually, since being taken by that monster, my mind feels... clearer somehow. I’ve understood many things I couldn’t before.”

Lowering her eyes to her sleeve, Felicia spoke with a complicated expression:

“Andre brother, with your skill in painting, you couldn’t possibly fail to draw a simple portrait. The only reason I can think of is that the person you’re trying to draw isn’t me.”

“...”

After hearing the emerald-eyed girl’s words, Prince Andre fell silent once more, then lowered his head and continued painting as he replied:

“No, the person I’m drawing is you.”

“But you’re not drawing the me before you—you’re drawing the me in your heart. That’s why you’ve never been able to finish it, isn’t it?”

“...”

The emerald-eyed girl spoke with a lonely gaze:

“Aside from missing some memories, I have most of Felicia’s soul and a body nearly identical to hers. Yet you’ve never been able to convince yourself—to see me as your sister, right?”

“...”

“After helping me gain this body, you’ve indulged all my small whims, even accompanied me in childish, absurd things... Are you truly comforting me, or are you letting me ‘reproduce’ the old Felicia?”

“...”

Watching Prince Andre, silent and bent over his painting, the emerald-eyed girl bit her lower lip and asked her final question:

“Andre brother, can you tell me—if the real Felicia had been taken that day, would you still have ordered the cannons fired?”

“Shhh... crack...”

Hearing the question, Prince Andre paused mid-sketch, the charcoal tip snapping in his hand.

That... wouldn’t have happened.

Without hesitation, this cold answer surfaced in Prince Andre’s heart.

To him, the real Felicia had long been dead—only a mechanical core made from her brain and soul remained.

Even if he helped her “reform” a body, treated her as if she were the real Felicia, and insisted on calling her Felicia instead of Atifi-01, this fact could not change.

The real Felicia had already died!

“Didn’t we just agree not to talk about that anymore?”

After replacing the charcoal with a new one, Prince Andre continued painting as he soothed gently:

“Felicia, don’t be childish. This time is different—I’ll finish drawing you soon.”

“And then what?”

The emerald-eyed girl whispered:

“After you finish drawing me, what will be different?”

“Something will change.”

Prince Andre didn’t look up as he replied:

“Once I’m certain I can draw your ‘soul,’ I’ll begin painting you into ‘The Royal Banquet,’ and then we can both stay inside that painting.”

“Stay inside that painting—or be locked inside it?”

“?!”

Watching Prince Andre freeze and lift his head in shock, the emerald-eyed girl gritted her teeth:

“I don’t understand soul-coding technology, but I know some of what’s studied in Zone 1: the body is the soul’s escort vessel, and the soul is the most reliable vessel for will and wisdom.

That painting, ‘The Royal Banquet,’ though drawn by you, contains no false figures—except for not realizing they’re inside a painting and having to obey certain rules, they’re indistinguishable from real people. All of them have souls.”

“...”

“Andre brother, when I was inside that ‘Royal Banquet’ just now, I looked at the Felicia in Mother’s arms—she was the only one motionless in the entire painting.

And what you’re planning now is to draw my soul into it, using the soul and existence of this fake sister to awaken the real sister you painted. Am I right?”

“Felicia, you’re overthinking...”

Prince Andre closed his eyes, set down the charcoal, and continued painting as he shook his head calmly:

“There’s no real sister or fake sister—she is the true Felicia, and you are the true Felicia. She is you, and you are her. You’re just both incomplete now.

Once I paint you in, she’ll awaken truly in that world, and you’ll be able to lie peacefully in Mother’s arms, just like her... Isn’t that better?”

“It’s not better!”

The emerald-eyed girl bit her lip, her eyes filled with disappointment:

“Even if I’m not the real Felicia, I have her soul and her body. She’s just a false painting! You want to kill me—to replace me with the Felicia you imagined!”

“She’s not imagined—she’s real.”

Still painting without looking up, Prince Andre spoke calmly and patiently:

“Though her world is smaller, it is a true world—just like ours. The people there have bodies and souls too. They are real, only existing differently than those in this world.

And I’m not killing you—I’m simply putting the you in this world to sleep, then awakening you in that world... Haven’t you forgotten? I planned to paint myself in too. Would I kill myself?”

“Andre, you’ve truly gone mad!”

Seeing she could no longer sway the stubborn Prince, the emerald-eyed girl erupted in fury:

“That monster was right! You’re a clown! A coward who can’t face his own mistakes, hiding in a false world to... soothe himself like a giant baby! You—!”

With a flick of his hand, Prince Andre drew a line in the air, sealing Felicia’s mouth. His temple throbbed with veins as he gasped twice, steadying his turbulent emotions, then spoke coldly:

“The real Felicia would never say such things. Clearly, being held by that man has corrupted you.

But it doesn’t matter—he can never escape ‘The Royal Banquet’ now. Once I finish painting you, I’ll deal with him immediately. I won’t let him poison you further. You have plenty of time to correct yourself.

Felicia, you may think I’m mad now, but when you awaken in that world using your true identity beside me, you’ll immediately understand—I am...”

“Ssshh...”

“?!!!”

Hearing the sound of fabric tearing behind him, Prince Andre’s emerald pupils shrank violently. He spun around, charcoal brush clenched tight—and saw a gleaming silver blade tip protruding from the suspended “Royal Banquet” behind him.