Cassius and Maria had spent a long time moving slowly from one painting to the next, taking in every detail with genuine appreciation.
Maria made sure to compliment each young artist personally, praising their unique styles and the care they had poured into their work. Their faces glowed with pride at her words.
But it wasn't Maria's compliments that truly excited them.
It was Cassius's critique.
He had gone through each painting with a keen, analytical eye, pointing out subtle flaws—a shadow that fell slightly wrong, a proportion that was marginally off, a color choice that could have been more harmonious.
He spoke about perspective and composition, about light and texture, about the emotional weight carried by a single brushstroke.
Maria had initially wanted to stop him. It felt harsh, almost cruel, to criticize these young artists who had worked so hard. But the students themselves quickly reassured her.
