Chapter 254:
Eagerly sharing stories about the granddaughter he had fought so hard to bring back into the family fold, Kendrick didn’t realize his friend had drifted toward the center of the room. Dennis had stopped beside the wicker chair and was now completely absorbed by something at his feet.
Only when Kendrick glanced over his shoulder did he notice Dennis hadn’t moved. He retraced his steps and called out, “What’s caught your attention over there? You know you’ll strain your back if you stand like that too long.”
Uncertain whether he should disturb it, Dennis squatted next to the drying painting, his hand hovering in the air. When his gaze finally rose to meet Kendrick’s, excitement sparkled in his eyes — an intensity that Kendrick hadn’t seen for ages.
A look of confusion crossed Kendrick’s face. “You’re acting like you’ve discovered a miracle. It’s only a painting. What’s gotten into you?”
“Wait — this painting,” Dennis said, barely containing himself. “Did your granddaughter create this as well?”
For a moment, Kendrick could only watch his friend, who was practically on the verge of tears, staring at the artwork as though it held priceless secrets. “She just paints for her own amusement when she’s here. It’s nothing serious. Why are you reacting as if you’ve found the impossible?”
Dennis’ fingers quivered as he leaned closer, his voice brimming with emotion. “Kendrick, do you realize what’s in front of you? The brushwork, the way the light and colors dance — this is the lost artistry of Impressionism!”
“What?” Confusion crept across Kendrick’s face. The nuances of art were lost on him, a man whose world revolved around boardrooms and numbers.
Excitement lit up Dennis’ voice as he blurted out, “You have no idea! Twenty years ago, I watched a painting with this same style sell for three hundred and twenty million at a Rledo auction!” He could barely stay still. “Where is your granddaughter? I absolutely must speak with her right away!”
Casting a bewildered look at both the painting and his friend, Kendrick’s disbelief grew. “But my granddaughter never mentioned anything about painting. She’s only ever talked about her love of piano, medicine, and a bit of racing…”
Even as the words left his mouth, Kendrick felt the absurdity of it all. His granddaughter seemed to possess a gift for every talent under the sun. Wild jealousy flashed in Dennis’ eyes.
“You’re not just bragging now, are you? She’s a prodigy in every field, it’s outrageous! I’m warning you, Kendrick, if I don’t meet her today, I’ll haunt you with this regret until my last breath!” Dennis’ dramatic threat rang out, prompting Kendrick to open his mouth and call for a servant.
Before he could, however, the sound of light footsteps drifted through the conservatory’s open door. Rylie entered, carrying a watercolor box, and paused with polite curiosity as she spotted the two men.
“Grandpa? And who might this be?”
Delight brightened Kendrick’s face as he made the introduction. “Rylie, this is Dennis Reynolds, my dear friend from Ostium’s Royal Academy of Arts.”
With a few eager strides, Dennis crossed the space to Rylie, almost breathless. “Did you really create that painting?”
A quick glance at the canvas and a modest nod was all Rylie gave. “It’s just something I painted for fun. It still needs to dry.”
A look of utter disbelief spread across Dennis’ face. “You call this something you painted for fun? This sort of mastery can’t just happen by chance!” His voice rose with every word. “Every choice — the arrangement, the palette, the subtle shifts between shadow and sun — you pull off techniques I still struggle with! Honestly, you should be teaching me!”
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