Chapter 675

Nigel Saunders pulled out his sketchpad, which he always carried with him, his eyes brimming with anticipation as he looked at Citrine. "Citrine, would you mind?" Citrine blinked, caught a little off guard, then nodded. "O-of course not."

Without another word, Nigel began to sketch from memory, capturing the scene he'd just witnessed. As he worked, he was utterly absorbed, lost in his own world, and for once, his usually impassive face softened-almost radiant with happiness.

The rest of the Saunders family could only stare in disbelief at Nigel's behavior toward Citrine. It was shocking enough to hear him speak so warmly to her, but to see him pick up his pencil and draw for her? That was beyond anything they'd imagined.

After all, the Saunders family had pleaded with Nigel more than once to paint their portraits. He never budged-brushed them off, claimed they stifled his inspiration, and insisted he couldn't paint what didn't move him.

Over the years, Nigel had grown more and more distant from the family. Parents, nephews, even his beloved younger sister Hilda-he treated them all like strangers now. The bond he'd once shared with Hilda had faded, leaving them nearly estranged.

Herschel Saunders muttered as if he'd just seen a ghost. "Has Nigel been possessed? Not only is he acting downright friendly, but he's actually sketching something for Citrine!"

like this

a smile, "Of

he lost track of time. Citrine quietly moved behind him, peeking at the sketchpad. When she caught sight of her own familiar features

and emotion. Sensing her gaze, Nigel paused and glanced over. "Well? What do you think?" Citrine rubbed her chin, pretending

eyes lit up, bit

looked at Citrine with a depth

else. Now, she had seen right through to the heart

a surge of affection for his niece in

family gathered around the table, and for the first time in years, Nigel

better times flooded back

sent his sketch off to a competition. It was, he realized, the work he was most proud

didn't stay

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