Court Painter

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Onlookers witness the horrific act, some gasping, others pretending not to notice. A few stray pages are spared from the water as the wind blows them to land. Arden salvages on, grasping it to her chest, a second is retrieved by a man merely passing, and the third lands at the feet of a most unexpected bystander. 

"Shocking." She speaks gently, her eyes first noting the rage in the face of Valienta and finally, settling on the timid, tearful Arden. Both mother and daughter stand frozen, mortified as their Queen observes the exchange. Elza moves towards Arden, examining the painting she holds before offering it back to the artist. "I imagine your are mourning greatly right now." She whispers, her eyes traveling down into the canal where paper drifts away. 

Arden bites her lower lip, forcing a stoic composure over her otherwise heartbroken self. "It is a grief I will get over." The words flow but the heart does not follow, nor does it agree. Queen Elza can see this. Her attention turns to Valienta who stands, rigid and unmoved.

"Why have you done this thing, dear woman?" 

"I only want my daughter to stop living in the imaginations."

Elza does not answer for some time, her gaze absorbing every detail of Valienta and Indra who stands behind her. Almost soaking up the exhaustion and bitterness. Finally, after another glance at Arden, Elza speaks. "I cannot believe that a little imagination and creation of beauty can be so harmful."

Valienta lowers her eyes. "To the less privileged, it can be detrimental, your majesty."

Queen Elza ignores the later, turning swiftly to Arden. "I can see that in body, perhaps you are, as your mother put it, less privileged, however, I believe in spirit, you might be richer than I." She glances at Valienta. "I am sure your mother would agree." She does not wait for a response, somehow indicating that it is rhetorical. "I like your painting," Elza pipes up, her expression seeming almost cheerful in a matter of seconds. "And as it so happens, I am in need of some imagination in my own home."

Valienta and Indra both grow notably silent, their eyes wide and their postures indicative of complete disbelief. Arden, standing unmoved beside the canal, watches the Queen intently, almost too bewildered to speak.

"I should like to offer you a position in my court," Her words are spoken with a simplicity that exudes confidence and determination. She watches Arden with kind, admirable eyes. "I have recently lost my personal painter to the fever and I would be most grateful for you to fill that role. Shall I consider it done?"

As the Queen poses her question, the door of Arden's home opens, her father emerging, naive to the events having just passed. He stops short, expressionless. "In all my days, I never anticipated opening my front door to our beloved Queen."

She smiles graciously, accepting his bow kindly. "I am merely here by chance and I am quite pleased to have been exposed to this young lady's great talent. I hope to anoint her my official Court Painter if she cares to know what life within the Palace holds." Again, she turns to Arden for an answer.

"I...I would be honored." Arden lowers her head reverently, not daring to meet the gaze of her mother. "I would be ever so honored. I never thought my painting would provide me with such an elevated status." Although subtle, Arden felt her own words aimed at her mother. For the years of being told this love was foolish, all to find herself in a position to serve the Queen.