Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“All of that can happen. I can travel with my husband, then return home, where I will still have many children and a grand estate. No matter where you travel in the world, you must have a home to return to. If yours is no longer Malrovia, you must create one somewhere else…you cannot wander forever.”
“Now you are starting to sound like my aunt.”
She grinned. “I shall take that as a compliment, because the queen is wise.”
I stared at her…never did I believe I would have such a conversation with a woman.
“There is no discouraging you, is there?”
“There is, but I recover quickly. Now, if you do not mind, will you please go over there?” she said and pointed to the columns at the pavilion’s entrance.
“What?”
“You are too close for me to draw sitting here.”
“You wish to draw me?”
“Yes, I feel inspired, and you are the only thing before me, so I shall draw you.”
“After all I have said, you wish to draw?”
“What do you wish me to do? Cry? What has happened has happened. I see no reason to dwell on it any further, and so I shall draw.”
I smiled…She was such a strange woman. Most others would feel uncomfortable and distant in this situation. How could they not? I’d confessed about my dysfunctional family and past, and she sat, barely fazed, holding my erotic art.
I never spoke of these things. Yet, with her, everything came spilling out—and she treated me no differently.
“Well, are you going to move into place or not?”
“Why do I fear you will draw me as some ghastly beast?” I said as I rose to my feet.
“That shall only be the outcome if you should call my work lacking.”
“You do not think that a rather harsh punishment for such a small criticism?”
“No, I do not, for I greatly abhor criticism of any degree,” she muttered, adjusting the page. “Now, go stand by the entrance.”
I did as she asked, moving to the columns that marked the entrance.
“Stop,” she ordered, and I did. “Look toward the rain, then turn your head slightly to the left and lean on the column to your right.”
“Like this?”
“Yes…sort of,” she replied.
Again I listened to her without argument, looking out at the scenery before me. I often liked the quiet but her silence as she began drawing was rather unnerving. I wanted to hear her speak.
“You are a very good artist,” I said, watching the rain. “I’m glad your father allowed you to become so well trained.”
“Are you saying that now only because you fear I shall draw you as a beast?”
I smiled. “No, I am confident you will render a fair likeness.”
“You have far too much faith in me, Your Highness, for I am drawing horns as we speak,” she shot back.
“Lady Abena is right. You are truly horrid, then!”
“Hey! Truce, remember?”
I turned my head back to see her face, and just as I expected, she was glaring at me. “I jest! Draw on, da Vinci.”
She huffed. “Turn around.”
I moved back into position, and once more silence came upon us as she worked. As I watched the rain, I found myself reflecting on this strange moment in my life…and the woman I could not have. I could not marry her, and yet each time we met, I found myself wishing to stay in her company. The very reason I was even here this week was to see her. Had I liked her even before I arrived? Surely not.
Feeling a hand upon my arm, I jumped slightly and glanced back at her. “What are—”
“One moment. This will look better,” she said, not at all fazed that her hands were upon my person. She moved from beside me to stand directly in front of me, just barely in the rain. My eyes widened as I felt her palms clasp the sides of my face and tilt my head to her desired position.
Her touch took me utterly by surprise, and left me unable to move of my own accord.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” She paused, staring at me.
“Do you often grab men so…uninhibitedly?”
“Ah.” She drew her hands back and smiled. “Forgive me. I was thinking only of positioning.”
“It is all right,” I lied, still feeling the lingering touch of her fingers on my face. “But how long am I meant to hold the position?”
“Until the rain stops, of course,” she ordered before moving from me back to the bench.
“And what if the rain never stops?”
“You must become immortal.”
I grinned. “That will most definitely not sit well with the church.”
“Then we shall create our own religion.” Just then, lightning flashed in the sky, and the earth trembled with thunder. Behind me, I heard her yell, “Father in heaven, I was only joking!”
“Who shall get horns now?”
“Hey!”
I laughed, truly laughed, until the sky thundered once more and forced my silence. In the distance, I saw even darker clouds approaching, and I stood up straighter.