Chapter 162
Chapter 162:
With that, Yelena walked confidently toward the table set up for her, the growing crowd following her every move.
Curiosity rippled through the crowd like an electric charge. The table had been meticulously set with high-quality paper, ink, and brushes—each tool carefully chosen by the butler.
Yelena paid no mind to the crowd around her. With quiet grace, she picked up the brush and began to write, her movements smooth and sure as she glided across the paper.
In no time at all, she set the brush down.
Two attendants stepped forward, lifting the paper to showcase her work.
Written boldly in elegant strokes was the phrase Fortuna et Salus, a Latin blessing meaning good fortune and health. At the sight of the displayed calligraphy, Humphrey’s eyes nearly popped out of his head in disbelief.
Could it really be? This handwriting?
“Wait, wait! I need a closer look!” Humphrey blurted, his voice tinged with excitement.
The crowd glanced at one another, puzzled by his sudden outburst.
It was clear that Humphrey had a genuine passion for fine calligraphy.
A few of the older gentlemen gathered around him, their curiosity piqued.
“This is extraordinary. The brushwork is almost identical to Oaklyn’s! The fluidity, the precision—it’s uncanny. Could this young lady actually be Oaklyn p>
“But Oaklyn’s supposed to be years older, right? This girl looks far too young to have such a renowned style p>
“I know, right? But look at the way she’s captured it. The skill… it’s almost like she’s channeling Oaklyn herself p>
Yelena quietly approached Humphrey, leaning in to whisper something in his ear.
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Then, with a knowing smile, she showed him something discreetly.
Humphrey’s eyes grew even wider.
With a subtle gesture, Yelena signaled for him to keep the secret to himself.
Humphrey, still in a state of shock, nodded slowly, his face a mix of awe and quiet reverence.
So it had been Oaklyn all along—standing right there, before him!
As soon as Humphrey realized that Yelena was the famed artist Oaklyn, he wasted no time instructing the butler to store the calligraphy she had just created for him with great care.
His excitement was palpable—how could he not be thrilled to receive a personal demonstration and a gift from Oaklyn herself? It was the sort of honor many only dreamed of.
The other guests exchanged puzzled glances, wondering what was behind Humphrey’s sudden enthusiasm, but none dared to comment.
Austin, however, stood there, absorbed in thought as his eyes lingered on the calligraphy.
He had heard of Oaklyn—everyone had.
Austin’s own grandfather was an art and calligraphy enthusiast, with a collection that could have filled a gallery. Growing up under his influence, Austin had developed a keen eye for these things.
When the servants hoisted Yelena’s work for all to see, it didn’t take long for Austin to make the connection. There was no doubt in his mind—Yelena was Oaklyn.
While whispers circulated that she was merely imitating Oaklyn’s style, Austin knew better.