Became Pregnant With the Demon King’s Child

chapter 75



"Good day."
"Hello. I look forward to working with you."
As the middle-aged man greeted him with formal politeness, Lowell stepped away from the window where Gray was visible and walked toward the door to offer a handshake. The man bowed repeatedly as he took his hand.

"My name is Taylor. I’ll be teaching you painting starting today."
Lowell glanced sideways at Felix standing behind him. It had taken Felix quite a while to select a painting tutor—because his standards had been unusually strict. At first, all they’d looked for was someone highly skilled. But once Felix began rejecting candidate after candidate, the list of conditions started growing.
First, the tutor couldn’t be an alpha. Everyone agreed to that easily enough; secondary gender was a common concern in such selections. But then came: no unmarried individuals. Regardless of gender, age, or personality, if they were single, they were out. That’s when people began to murmur that it was excessive.

But Felix, who thought Lowell was attractive enough to seduce even a married person, topped it all off with one final condition: the tutor had to be over fifty. In fact, he had originally said only women over sixty with exceptional skill would be considered. But since no one meeting that requirement could be found anywhere near Nyx, he eventually lowered the bar.
So this is who made it through all that.
Lowell, who had been informed of the whole process, instinctively sized up Taylor—then felt embarrassed, realizing how rude he was being.

"I still have a lot to learn, but I look forward to your guidance."
He smiled sweetly, apologetically. Taylor, briefly captivated by the expression, immediately shrank back under Felix’s sharp, arms-crossed stare.
"Will His Grace… be present for the entire lesson?"

"N-no, he’ll be leaving soon. Right?"
Taylor asked in a nervous whisper, and reading his unease, Lowell waved a hand dismissively at Felix. Felix rubbed his forehead, then nodded.
"I’ll step out. From here on, proceed as you like. Just make sure nothing inappropriate happens."

Even with all his strict standards in place, it seemed Felix still couldn’t entirely let go of his worry. Once Felix left the room, Taylor let out a deep sigh of relief.
"Young Lord, please let His Grace know I have loved one—and only one—beta woman all my life. I’ve never once looked at anyone else. I’m the most faithful man alive."
Having a doting, jealous husband for a lover, Lowell could only lower his head in shame.

"I’ll be sure to pass that along."
"Ahem. Now, may I start by seeing how much drawing experience you have? I need to assess your skill level."
"Yes, of course."
Taylor took out various materials and placed a few pieces of fruit on a dish. He was going to assess Lowell’s ability through a still life sketch.

This is nothing.
Lowell smiled confidently at what was basically the most basic of basic tests. But within ten minutes, that confidence had shattered to pieces.
What’s going on? Do I have hand tremors or something?

His hands weren’t following his intent. The biggest issue was the lack of strength in his grip. No matter how much pressure he applied, the pencil strokes were lighter than expected, and the lines came out wobbly. In his mind was a perfect blueprint—yet what came out looked like an apple so ruined even a beggar who hadn’t eaten in three days would push it away.
"Uh…"
Taylor, watching from behind, was at a loss for words.

Is it really possible to be this bad?
But the shock that hit Lowell was far more intense. Physical activity was obviously affected by one’s body, so he’d accepted that he wouldn’t be able to exercise in his current condition. But art… that was supposed to be different.
Lowell had assumed this body might be a bit out of practice with a brush, so my drawings may not be as good as before. But he had never imagined the gap would be this severe.

This isn’t an apple—it’s food waste.
He wanted to throw the pencil across the room then and there, but with someone watching, he couldn’t. Instead, a sense of stubborn determination began to rise.
With time, my grip will get stronger. It'll get better—just think of it as rehabilitation.

The defeated look in Lowell’s eyes burned into pure will.
"You can stop now."
Despite Lowell’s resolve, Taylor finally opened his mouth in an effort to save the apple that had been rotting further with every new line. At the words “you can stop,” Lowell hung his head in something like despair.

"It’s awful, isn’t it?"
He offered a brutally honest self-assessment before Taylor could.
"V-very awf— No, I mean… unique. Yes, a highly individualistic piece."

Taylor had been about to evaluate it the way he would with any student, but quickly remembered where he was and changed his wording. Lowell wasn’t just a student—he was a client. A very wealthy client who’d paid enough to not pick up a brush for three years and still be fine. Hurting his feelings was not an option.
"Let’s start with drawing straight lines. A solid foundation is the key to a good painting."
"Yes. Straight lines."

Lowell tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. The wave of discouragement was hitting hard again.
I’ll even draw a portrait of Felix for you.
He deeply regretted having ever said that. At this rate, it would take ten years before he could even begin sketching Felix’s face.

"Your goal was a realistic portrait of His Grace, yes?"
Taylor asked as if to drive the final nail in.
"It’ll be difficult to achieve that quickly, won’t it?"

"I think setting a goal of slowly building up to that while practicing fundamentals would be wise."
Worried Lowell might lose interest, he tossed out a carrot. Lowell wondered whether it was even worth drawing Felix if the result would be unrecognizable, but still gave a nod.
Yeah. Even if I’m terrible, it’s better to have a goal. Might help me feel like I’m getting somewhere.

Lowell gave a wry smile. The original purpose—prenatal bonding—had already faded. Now only pure stubbornness to recover his drawing ability remained.
"I’ll be in your care."
If I keep trying, something’s bound to change.

***
Sigh…
"Haaa…"

Lowell and Taylor let out simultaneous sighs. It had been well over a month since Lowell started learning to paint. With steady daily practice, it ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ was the time when even a beginner should start showing progress. And Lowell had truly worked hard. When Felix wasn’t around, he always had a pencil in hand. Even when Felix was present, he kept practicing at a distance. Not a single day had been skipped, and the pile of used sketch paper had grown large.
"You’ve improved, yes, but… your circles are still very uneven. Your shading is getting better, though."
Taylor had grown bolder in his feedback. At first he was cautious, but now he spoke plainly. Lowell actually preferred it that way.

"What exactly is the problem?"
"You need to build more strength in your hands and fingers. Though that’s not the only issue."
Lowell gathered up his practice sketches and stood before the easel. Since it seemed they’d be stuck in basic drills forever at this rate, Taylor had started allowing him to draw whatever he wanted twice a week.

"Th-this drawing… is supposed to be His Grace?"
"Yes."
Taylor asked the same question every time, apparently unable to believe it. Lowell, knowing there was no malice behind it, answered with a resigned tone.

"What matters is the feeling in the painting."
That’s what Taylor said—but Lowell had a different opinion.
Sure, but within reason. This looks less like Felix and more like a zombie that’s gone a month without eating. No… there are no zombies in this world. A monster, then?

But that wasn’t something you said to someone trying to encourage you, so Lowell held his tongue.
"It will improve, right?"
"It has to."

Lowell’s sighing question was met with Taylor’s impassioned reply. If Lowell had been half-hearted, it might have been different. But he was a genuinely dedicated and polite student. Taylor, affected by his sheer determination, had developed a passionate new goal: I will teach this man to draw like a human being.
"That’s all for today. Please keep practicing your fundamentals as usual."
"Yes, I will."

After Taylor left, Felix entered as if on cue. Lowell hurried to hide the drawing on the easel and greeted him with an awkward smile.
"Are you sure you’re not pushing yourself too hard?"
Felix had been asking him that every day lately, as the lessons grew longer.

"It’s not that bad."
"So when exactly are you going to show me your work?"
And then, another crisis hit Lowell.

"What are you drawing, anyway, that you keep hiding it?"
He couldn’t bring himself to answer: You. I’m drawing you.


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