The Patroness

Niccolo had been summoned to the palace. The summon had come to him in the form of a parchment letter sealed with red wax. As soon as he saw it, he recognized the symbol of a raven with a rose in its claws: the royal seal.

It came as quite the surprise. The city was filled with hundreds of artists, most more famous and respected than him. To think the queen had commissioned him to do her portrait was unbelievable.

He was anxious the day leading up to his scheduled appointment with Her Majesty. Part of it was because of her recent loss. It had been a month since King Ignatius had passed away, and two months since Queen Carmella had announced her pregnancy. To lose your husband right after announcing your pregnancy must have been a pain too much to bear. He swore to himself he would be sensitive when speaking to her.

But his anxiety went beyond polite decency. Niccolo had always been a shy, soft-spoken young man. His favorite part of his job was always the hours he spent alone in his studio, just him and his canvas and the world inside his mind. Having to actually present them to potential patrons was necessary, but just that.

For the past few months, finding patrons for his work was becoming increasingly difficult, and being too shy to go out and pitch his paintings, money was steadily decreasing, and becoming harder to acquire.

But now the Queen was commissioning him to do an important portrait. He could only begin to imagine the gold and jewels he would return home with. Money he desperately needed at the moment.

On the day of the appointment, a cold, rainy evening on the first of December, Niccolo packed his supplies in a bag and pulled on his coat. The Queen had sent a carriage to his small city apartment, a lovely silver cart pulled by two white horses. Niccolo grabbed his bag, stuffed two canvases under his arm with the stand, then stepped through the door the coachman held open for him.

The inside was magnificent. Lush damask cushions a deep royal blue. Niccolo sunk into the heavenly cushions, more comfortable than he'd ever been in his cheap apartment.  The coach threw his whip, and the steps of the horses clicked down the cobblestone streets to the palace. As they traveled, Niccolo gazed out into the towering city, trying to calm his churning stomach and relax his restless nerves.

Before long, the royal palace came into view. A towering masterpiece of gold, silver, and marble swirled with black. The carriage rounded around a hedged fountain to the front. The coachman held open the door, and Niccolo stumbled his way out. He made his way up the grand steps to the door.

As soon as the guards opened the door, Niccolo was met with a room that was red velvet and gold chandeliers. A man in a blue uniform and twirling grey mustache approached him.

"Good evening" he said. "Sir Niccolo, I presume?"

The gentleman offered his hand. Niccolo smiled shyly, then shook it.

"Yes sir, I am" he said.

"My name is Sebastian Antonio, the Queen's advisor. She's been expecting you. Please, follow me."

Niccolo nodded, and followed the gentleman up a grand staircase that spilled into the guest hall. The room was lined with suits of armor that gleamed in the light. Thunder and rain tumbled against the glass windows.

"She has been wanting to have a new portrait for ages now" Sebastian said. "I assume it is to commemorate her time during her pregnancy."

"That is what I assumed" Niccolo said.

They turned into a hallway. The walls were adorned in some of the most gorgeous paintings Niccolo had ever seen. He got so distracted by them he stumbled several times to keep up with Sebastian.