The ceremony venue had been crafted with painstaking precision.
True to the whispers circulating in art circles, Luciano insisted on ceremonial grandeur for such occasions, and Paige’s induction reflected his exacting standards in every detail.
Given that millions would witness the event via livestream, no expense had been spared. Each element of the setting exuded opulence and meticulous attention to aesthetic harmony.
The ceremony would unfold with practiced formality—opening remarks from the host, introduction of distinguished witnesses and speakers, followed by the formal presentation of master and protégé.
Then would come the pivotal moment: the initiation ritual itself. The master would publicly articulate his reasons for accepting this particular protégé, share wisdom gleaned through decades of artistic exploration, and demonstrate techniques for the novice to emulate.
What should have been a profound artistic exchange struck Elliana as absurdly theatrical, particularly because Luciano had commissioned a wax figure of Rosa for the occasion.
Paige was becoming Luciano’s protégé, yet he venerated Rosa above all others. Elliana suppressed a bubbling laugh at the irony.
Rosa’s true identity remained one of the art world’s most closely guarded secrets, never revealed publicly. Only a select inner circle knew who truly wielded the brushes behind that name.
The sole image circulating online captured a blurred profile, confirming only that Rosa was female. In that enigmatic photograph, she wore a tailored black suit with heels, her long hair swept into an elegant high ponytail. Her slender, statuesque silhouette suggested a polished professional rather than the disheveled artist stereotype many expected.
The mysterious Rosa brand held such cultural sway that this single, indistinct image had proliferated across social media platforms. Various prestigious art institutions included her works in their curriculum, displaying this very photograph when introducing her revolutionary contributions.
Though aware of this phenomenon, Elliana had dismissed it as trivial until witnessing Luciano’s audacity in creating a wax effigy based on that single, ambiguous image.
Since facial features remained indiscernible in the photograph, the wax figure stood faceless—an artistic compromise disguised as reverence. To maintain the illusion of respect, Luciano had crowned the figure with a dramatic black round-brimmed hat.
As Elliana savored the absurdity unfolding before her, the ceremony commenced.
The host began by introducing the assembled witnesses with practiced gravitas.
To artificially elevate Paige’s perceived importance, the production team had recruited several aging luminaries from the art establishment. Their significance was emphasized through elaborate introductions recited by the host with theatrical solemnity.
These luminaries had clearly been well-compensated for their participation, as their speeches overflowed with extravagant praise for both Luciano and Paige.
Elliana observed silently, her lips curved in a subtle, knowing smile. So many reputations entangled in this charade—would they regret their complicity when the truth emerged later?
After the witnesses’ exhaustive testimonials, Luciano finally rose to speak. He stood from his chair—positioned to emphasize his authority—adjusted his sleeves with practiced nonchalance, accepted the microphone, and began speaking in deliberately affected tones.
“As my esteemed colleagues know, I never walked the conventional path of artistic instruction. My distinctive style emerged through personal innovation, yet throughout my creative journey, one mentor has guided my spirit unfailingly—the incomparable Rosa!”
With dramatic flourish, Luciano gestured toward the faceless wax figure.
“Though fate has denied me the honor of meeting Rosa in person, her works have been my most profound teachers. I can state unequivocally that no influence has shaped my artistic vision more powerfully.”
On cue, assistants wheeled in several canvases—Luciano’s award-winning pieces, the foundation of his reputation and credibility. Precisely speaking, those were the pieces he claimed as his own creation, while they were actually drawn by painters who remained in the shadows.
Luciano described each painting with passionate intensity, repeatedly invoking Rosa’s name as though it were a sacred incantation.
“Observe the distinctive techniques in my work that echo Rosa’s influence. This harmony of elements…”
“Reflects my profound reverence for her genius!” Every word dripped with manufactured emotion, his eyes glistening with staged devotion, as though Rosa’s essence had permanently transformed his artistic soul.
Having completed his performance, he returned the microphone to the host and bowed deeply before the faceless wax figure. His expression conveyed absolute solemnity, creating a hushed reverence throughout the room.
Elliana felt revulsion prickling across her skin. Watching this fraudulent “master” perform such elaborate veneration was simultaneously revolting and darkly comical. A spontaneous laugh escaped her lips before she could contain it.
The disruptive sound shattered the ceremonial atmosphere, causing every head in the room to swivel toward her…
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