Chapter Text
The sun illuminated the stone corridors, despite considering himself a man of the cold, he found himself feeling grateful to receive the sun's rays again after spending 2 weeks under the rain. Despite the good atmosphere, he couldn't help but scold himself for forgetting the walnut oil in the east salon and having to accept Kent’s ointment.
Although he had been able to do the class painting, he could definitely notice the difference from using that cheap oil, and his perfectionism prevented him from thinking of another outcome for that painting other than burning it or burying it where it could never be seen.
He walked through the corridors of the academy, the sound of his footsteps filling the space. He rounded the corner, approaching his destination when he suddenly stopped in his tracks as he noticed the class inside the room. However, the abrupt silence of his stride was not lost on the artists inside, although they quickly returned their attention to the nude woman sitting in the center, kneeling on a small platform.
In the years that he had been in the academy, he had seen models come and go left and right, without ever allowing himself to be surprised by their anatomy, since his art came before his passions. But for the first time, his gaze stopped on the woman in front of him. Her skin was white as marble, contrasting with the darkness of her locks, black as the night, that was covering half of her back. But what struck him most was the piercing amethyst gaze, peering at him curiously over her pale shoulder.
“Oh, Mr. Wayne!” Professor Karlo exclaimed, crossing the room towards the newcomer, and breaking him out of his thoughts. “You forgot your oil this morning. It is very lucky that I found it, with such fine materials it is necessary to be jealous of your belongings.” The man held out the small vial.
"I appreciate it, Professor." He hurriedly put the item away, intending to get out quickly, but Karlo's voice stopped him.
"There is nothing to be thankful for. Taking over your father's position in his absence must be difficult. Oh, when is he coming back?"
"Tonight."
"Very well. I hope that his arrival allows you to refocus as it should be.” Finally, the man turned around muttering words to himself, and an occasional comment to the men painting.
The words of professor Karlo’s did not sit well with the magnificent Mr. Wayne.
Firstborn, and the only male of the Wayne house, Damian Wayne had known from an early age the responsibility that would one day fall on his shoulders. Nevertheless, thanks to his father's good health, that fearful moment had been postponed for a long time.
However, on this occasion when the Viscount left the country for an extended period, Damian was left in charge of playing the role of Viscount, successfully fulfilling all his responsibilities. But these same responsibilities had managed to unbalance his lifestyle, hindering his activities in the Academy. Which he couldn't allow. The mistake had been minimal, and although the professor's words had been without malicious intent, the carelessness was inexcusable for the Wayne heir.
“Miss, could you turn your head up and to the left?”
"Like this?"
The woman's voice took him out of his thoughts, making him forget for a moment the ideas that tormented him, but he quickly regained his composure when he saw himself looking far too much at the woman. Without thinking twice, he turned on his heel and walked away from the place.
────
With the Viscount's arrival, the days quickly returned to normal. Damian had never again forgotten his oil in the salon, or anything else, nor had he ever seen the woman that modeled that day.
Not that he cared, although he couldn't deny that the times he'd passed that room, he had expected to see her there. But she never was.
However, the surprise came when a few days later, returning from his morning ride, he entered the house, and the first thing he saw was one of the maids carrying a rather appetizing tray towards the living room.
"Mrs. Odette, do we have visitors?"
He hurried to ask before the woman walked away. The lady turned, greeting with a short bow and a graceful "my lord" leaving her lips.
"Yes, sir. The artist in charge of the portraits of Lady Wayne arrived a few minutes ago.”
Damian moved past the woman, slipping by the entrance to the room where the Viscountess and the painter were, trying to go unnoticed.
“Damian, is that you?” The voice of the lady of the house stopped him, he closed his eyes, taking a breath that would give him the energy to repeat the tedious protocols.
Just say your greetings and leave.
"Good to see you, dear." Selina Wayne, Viscount Bruce Wayne's second wife for more than a decade, proclaimed as she walked towards him. She was a very attractive woman, with fine features and a look that seemed capable of revealing any secret.
Known for her "radical" single life, she was a lover of art and lived without fear of what others had to say. She was also considerably younger than the Viscount, unlike his late first wife. The union at first had caused too much turmoil in the community, branding her as an interested woman. A fact that over the years was forgotten, especially after the birth of their daughter, Helena Wayne.
Even for Damian, it had been hard to accept the Viscountess's disruptiveness, but over time he understood, and even found common ground with Selina. Even so, for a man of society from such a prestigious family, there were small details in which, perhaps, they would never agree.
The moment Damian caught sight of the person across the small tea table, he knew it was an unwise move on his stepmother's part. But as if Selina knew what he was thinking, she smiled widely, pulling him by the arm.
“You are just in time. I want you to meet the artist who will be in charge of our portraits.” Selina practically dragged him across the room. "Meet Miss Raven Roth."
A woman.
Her body was completely covered with a purple dress and a spencer, a few shades darker, with very square shoulders and a high neck, giving a rather masculine impression, contrasting with the woman's delicate neck. Which she proudly displayed with two discreet braids on her head as the rest of her hair was tied up in a simple bun.
Despite appreciating modesty and decency, both the colors and style were inappropriate, as well as out of season. With that kind of dress, what kind of woman could she be? Another woman with disruptive thoughts like his stepmother surely, but that Damian could only translate into: problems .
The artist stood up, and as Damian advanced, preparing a speech to expose his disagreement with that transaction, his throat went dry as he came face to face with the woman with ebony hair and marble skin.
Damian felt the words catch and then evaporate on the tip of his tongue, as those amethyst eyes he had met days ago at the art academy, stared back at him without any trace of hesitation.
Raven Roth
He repeated silently as she bowed, mimicking the action of the one named.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, my Lord .”
There was something in that moment, he wasn't sure if it was the way her voice rounded the vowels. Or the delicacy with which her lips moved as she spoke. Or the velvety voice that sent several shocks through his body, making his knees weak. But it was at that moment that Damian was more than sure that he had to get that woman out of his house at all costs.
────
Damian almost ran out of the room after naming the face he had found just a few days ago, and who now was in his living room having tea quietly with his stepmother.
The images of her naked body on the platform to the delight of the other men appeared against his will in his head, and the calm way in which she had presented herself here caused his blood to boil.
How many men had looked around the edges of her body?
And how many more have they…?
No .
The answer didn't matter. She was far from being a lady. And what about calling herself a painter? Unacceptable.
He tried to be an objective and rational man, he understood that society could be very orthodox and ridiculous in more than one of its many social rules. But Miss, if she could still be called that, Roth, was a black hole of broken rules. Certainly an example that he didn't want near his younger sister, and although Selina couldn't see it, he did, and he would take matters into his own hands.
“Let me know as soon as Ms. Roth leaves.”
He asked the butler before locking himself in the library. An hour passed, when the knock on the door alerted him to the departure of the guest.
“Are you leaving, Miss Roth?
Raven looked up, cold and distant, no doubt noticing the way he'd pronounced his words, but she hurried to smile up at him.
"Thank you for having me, Lady Wayne." She bowed towards the brunette, ignoring the man walking towards them.
"I'll go with you, dear."
"Allow me, mother." Damian interrupted, stepping between the two. “I will escort Ms. Roth the way out.”
Selina frowned, shifting her gaze from Raven to Damian suspiciously. "You are in a good mood." It was the only thing she said before returning to the living room.
"Shall we?" Damian offered, one hand forward, giving way to the woman.
They walked downstairs in silence, both staring straight ahead.
"Are you from around, miss?" Damian finally spoke as they neared the bottom of the stairs.
“No, my lord. I just got here two weeks ago.”
"With your husband?"
“I'm traveling alone, Mr. Wayne. I live, work, travel and take care only of myself.”
“How is it that a woman like you lives only from her paintings? I don't want to sound rude but I've never heard from you in the medium.
“Maybe you are in the wrong medium. Your mother, on the other hand, knew who I was.”
"She is not my mother."
" Oh, my mistake, Lady Wayne , knew enough about me."
"Well, let me tell you that being in the medium of the Viscountess isn't exactly a letter of recommendation."
“There is no such thing as good or bad publicity, Mr. Wayne. And even if I wanted to, my name will never be heard within your environment if it is not on the side of a renowned surname.” Raven took two steps forward and turned, one eyebrow slightly raised. “And to answer your other question, you know that a woman will never earn the same as a man, much less for a painting. I also work as a model. But you already knew that firsthand.”
"Did you know who I was?"
"Everyone knows who you are, my lord."
Damian stopped short.
"Then you admit to having an interest in the renown of this house." He spoke quickly, without thinking, blurting out the words as they came.
“I didn't force my way into your territory if that's what you think, sir. I was invited by the Viscountess.”
"Sure, but you agreed to come, even worse, to work for this family despite being aware of what your presence could cause."
"Fortunately, I didn't work for you, I worked for Lady Wayne, who has no problem with it." Raven continued on her way, not caring if the Wayne heir had anything else to say or not.
Her action only irritated the young man, who came forward to perch himself in front of her.
"Even if I want to see it that way, it doesn't seem right for you to work here, especially if the Viscountess isn't aware of your situation." Raven's eyes widened. A chill ran through Damian's body and a slight tingle in his fingers made him feel a touch of fear.
“ My situation? If you mean being an independent, hard-working, single woman, Lady Wayne is aware of my situation. And the Viscount is also aware of my services and who I am, but I'll tell him the same thing I tell all men like you, Mr. Wayne. What I do or do not do in my personal life is none of your business and does not get in the way of my work, which you seem to find so immoral, even though you, and all of your kind, are the main consumers.”
Raven continued walking, taking advantage of the silence that took over Damian's mouth, who found himself with a reddish face. Embarrassed to find himself, like very few times in life, speechless.
"Do you mean to call me immoral?" Raven stopped just outside the door and turned on her heel with a triumphant smile.
“On the contrary, there is nothing immoral about our activities, my lord. I just wonder why it is socially accepted that women take off their clothes for men's consumption but not to earn a living?” Raven opened the door without taking her eyes off the man. “If you want my contract canceled, talk to the Viscountess, but I'm not going to quit just because my presence makes you uncomfortable. Good day, sir."
Her words pierced through his brain, again leaving him speechless as he watched her disappear behind the great white doors.
────
“You have to fire her.” Damian said completely still, standing in front of the armchair where Selina rested, reading the newspaper.
"I will not." The Viscountess's eyes read and captured the letters on that paper with great interest. And the lightness of her words made it clear to him the indifference she felt towards his concerns.
“You can't have a person like that working in this house. Besides, she has shown to be insolent."
“Let me write it down in my notebook of things that I should care about.”
"I'm serious."
"And I am, as well. I'm not going to fire her. I like her work, she is a very talented artist who will not be even half as successful as you could be, despite how hard she works.”
"Are you saying that I have no talent?" With one swift move, Selina rolled up the newspaper, looking at him dreadfully.
“I never said that. I am only pointing out that you have everything at your reach, she does not. If you feel threatened, that's your problem, not mine, not Miss Raven's. Yours." She spread the paper back out, refocusing her eyes on it for an instant. "As long as you have no other problem, other than your prejudices about women, I'm not going to fire her."
Damian snorted, sitting on the couch behind him, not looking at Selina, intending to show his disdain. But the Viscountess didn't flinch.
"What I don't understand..."
"Here it comes." Selina tossed her paper aside, rolling her eyes, knowing her stepson's ways.
"What's the point of hiring a painter when I'm a painter?"
"You are a great painter and I'm so proud of you." Selina straightened in her seat. “Damian, dear, you have nothing to be jealous of Miss Roth. You are a great artist, and you know that I love your work, but you don't have the need to do it. I am not asking you to do the portraits because you are fortunate to be able to dedicate yourself to your own projects and not depend on it.”
Selina’s words did nothing to please him but, as with many of his stepmother’s choices, he did understand. And much to his dislike, he knew she was right.
"Besides, it wouldn't hurt to see yourself from other eyes once in a while."
────
When Damian walked into the big house, everything seemed normal, but soon the silence made him uneasy. In his mind, he replayed the house schedule, trying to remember if Selina had mentioned any appointments for that afternoon, but no.
Not having the answers to his own questions stressed him out, but as soon as he entered the library, he recognized Helena's boisterous laugh.
He hurriedly peeked out the window, his eyes widening in surprise to find the two Wayne women in the company of the young miss Roth.
After several days and attempts to persuade the Viscountess, Damian dropped the subject, and for a moment he thought that perhaps he had achieved something. How wrong he was.
He frowned when he focused his eyes on the painter and observed the unusual suit that covered her body.
Khaki pants, black below-the-knee boots, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, with the first few buttons undone, exposing portions of her chest. She was dressed as a man.
How daring.
But the most unforgivable thing was that he couldn't take his eyes off her, while her gaze focused on the canvas, with a beautiful smile that lit up her exquisite face. This was the first time he had seen her truly smile, and Damian felt he could stay in that moment, looking at her, forever.
────
Raven looked up from the canvas, peering around as a shiver ran down her spine.
"Is something wrong, Raven?" Selina asked, sitting a few steps away from her.
“Suddenly I felt as if someone was watching. It must have been my imagination.” She shook her head and turned to Helena, who was sitting a few meters ahead, with a wide wall of flowers of various colors behind her.
“It was my brother, he has been watching since he arrived.” The younger girl said between laughs, Raven looked up and indeed there he was, behind a window on the top floor. The Wayne heir was carefully observing what the women were doing, but as soon as her eyes found him, he disappeared into the shadows of the room.
Raven snorted with discontent. He was so annoying .
"He is not that bad." Raven turned to see the Viscountess, who was calmly sipping her tea.
"Is he always this suspicious?"
“Only at the beginning. Once the approval period is over, you can find a great ally in him.”
"I don't think I'm ever going to get his approval…"
Helena giggled, watching Raven continue with her work before looking up at the windows above.
“I think my brother is afraid that he might approve of you too fast.” The younger one said to herself with a smile on her face, turning her eyes to the upper window.
"Did you say something, Helena?" Raven poked her head around the side of the canvas.
"Nothing!"