Divorced, But Queen - Chapter 217: Chapter 217

Hannah was all smiles, never noticing the mocking curve of Mono's lips. Forcing a master to accept a student in public? Only a fool would do such a thing.
Mono was about to speak when the Secretary General, Westin Deleon, burst out of the Fine Art Society with a group of teachers, grasping Mono's arm. "Professor!"
Westin was one of Mono's former students at Mandino University—he'd managed to make a lasting impression simply by being persistent enough.
After graduating, Westin had quickly risen to become Secretary General.
Westin's interruption broke the moment. Mono ignored Liam and Hannah, lifting his chin as he walked in. "What's the rush, Westin? I'm not about to make a run for it."
Outside, Liam sighed, troubled. "Mono really doesn't like me."
Hannah patted his arm reassuringly. "Don't worry. If Mono likes Collin and takes him as an apprentice, getting a painting won't be a problem."
Liam wasn't convinced. "Mono must have extremely high standards for taking students."
Hannah sounded absolutely sure of herself. "That's not necessarily true. No one's ever seen Mono's apprentice—or their work. If they were truly that good, why keep everything a secret? I bet Collin will blow Mono's student out of the water."
She spoke with such certainty, Liam started to wonder if the Gibson family had some kind of hidden ace.
Inside, Westin craned his neck, looking around. "Professor Mono, is my senior not coming?"
Mono had once shown his students a copy made by his apprentice—the signature had been so sloppy everyone just assumed it was some guy.
Mono never bothered to correct them.
"Well. Don't mention it," Mono replied coolly, "but this time, I did bring something with me."
He glanced at Gael, who immediately lowered one of the suitcases to the ground and unzipped it.
Inside was a canvas, wrapped in plain white cloth.
Westin's eyes lit up. He could barely contain his excitement. "Is this one of yours? Are you planning a big return?"
"This is my apprentice's work. Take a look and decide if it's good enough for your exhibition," Mono replied. There was a trace of pride in his voice—though he'd never admit it.
Westin grinned. "Professor, you're joking. Your apprentice's work is definitely worthy. I'm dying to see it."
With bated breath, Westin carefully placed the frame on the rack to the left. Mono watched without a word.
Westin slowly lifted the white cloth.
All eyes were drawn to the painting. The entire canvas was a swirl of black—unfriendly at first glance, chaotic lines circling round and round, creating a dark vortex at the center.
And at the very heart of that darkness, a single red eye stared back, as if ready to pull the viewer into the abyss.
The teachers drew closer, each transfixed by the painting.
The longer they stared, the more they saw: buried in the tangled lines were countless pairs of eyes, each expressing something different.
Everyone tried to pick out the pair that called to them.
Finally, Gael draped the white cloth back over the canvas, snapping them all out of their trance.
The room was silent, the shock palpable.
This painting was electrifying—almost unsettling.
Westin's chest heaved as he tried to calm his racing heart.
Suddenly, he understood why Mono had only shown them copies back in university.
They wouldn't have been able to handle this style back then; it would have thrown their entire worldview into chaos.
Mono signaled to Gael again, who produced a second painting and set it up.
This one was of mountains and streams, serene and gentle, washing away the oppressive darkness of the first.
Westin couldn't help but exclaim, "Isn't this the one the Society put in our permanent collection? How is it here with you?"
Mono's smile was deep and knowing. "Look again."