painting

 Isabelle who loved paintings more than anything else in the world. She spent hours in art museums admiring the beautiful works of art and could spend hours just staring at them.*

*One of her favorite paintings was by Monet, called "Water Lilies." Isabelle loved the way the water lilies filled the canvas and shimmered in the watery reflections. Every time she looked at it, she felt as if she was floating upon the water.*

*Isabelle longed to create art as beautiful.*

As Isabelle continued her stroll through the gallery, her eyes stopped on one painting in particular. The piece was striking, with a beautiful girl in an elaborate dress in a garden. However, something wasn't quite right.

Isabelle's gaze lingered on the girl's face. There was a smear of red across her pretty features. It looked like blood.

A man suddenly appeared beside Isabelle, startling her. He chuckled.

"You seem fascinated by that painting," he said.

i turned to him. "Why does she have blood on her face?"

The man sighed and leaned against a wall, staring at the painting. "You didn't hear the story behind the painting, did you?" i shook my head, curious. The man smiled.

"That painting depicts a real woman, Lady Catherine of Bellemont. She loved beauty more than anything in the world, and especially valued her own. In her vanity, she demanded that a famous painter capture her true beauty on canvas."

He paused, his face becoming grim. i was captivated by the story, but something still nagged me: the blood on the woman's face.

His expression darkened. "Lady Catherine was unsatisfied with the painter’s attempts," he said. “She refused to pay him and threatened him. In anger, the artist took a brush drenched in red paint and smeared it across his canvas.

 That was the last time Lady Catherine's 'beauty' was to be painted.

"did the painter killed her?".... my voice are a bit nervous when I ask.

The man shook his head sadly. "No, no. Despite his anger, the artist could not bring himself to hurt her."

"However, Lady Catherine's obsession with beauty and appearance had a devastating effect on her. She never married, and became quite recluse in her later years. Her beauty faded, leaving a haunting image of the young woman in the painting. Her obsession with art had led her to an almost cursed existence."

couldn't help but shiver as the man finished the story. The knowledge of Lady Catherine's downfall made the painting seem even more tragic.

The man looked at me, his eyes serious. "Art is a beautiful thing," he said, "but obsession can lead to a dark path."

Truly...... my eyes look again at the painting... But her face looks more innocent than her personality.

My curiosity grew. The story of Lady Catherine intrigued myself, and I wanted to know more.

The man must have caught on to her thoughts, for he asked with a sly smile.

"You want to see the truth for yourself?" I considered his question for a brief moment.

my mind racing. I really did want to see what really happened to Lady Catherine. I met the his gaze. "Yes," finally I said, with determination.

he smile widened into a sly grin. "Then follow me," he said, gesturing me to follow him.

I felt a small knot of worry form in my stomach, but my curiosity won out. I followed the man towards a door at the end of the gallery.

he led me through a maze of passageways lined with artwork. They passed several guards, but the man smiled at them and they nodded respectfully in return.

Finally, they reached a small stairway. he motioned for me to go first, and I cautiously started to descend.

As I made the way down the steps, it grew darker, and had to rely on his light to show the way. The air felt thicker down here, and a cold draft sent chills down my spine.

he suddenly stopped, and I almost bumped into him. He was standing beside a small wooden door, barely distinguishable in the darkness.

he pushed the door open, and saw a room with stone walls. It was dimly lit, a few candles flickering on the wall and giving a faint glow to the room. In the center was a large canvas in an ornate frame.

I gasped. It was the same painting from before. Lady Catherine of Bellemont.

found myself in the same garden depicted in the painting, but there was no Lady Catherine in sight. The sunlight was more intense now, and the air was warm and fragrant with flowers.

I looked down at the painting, and saw that I had replaced the place of Lady Catherine in the frame!!.

I panickly looked up and saw the painter standing in front of me, brush in hand, preparing to paint.

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