Arden, the meek and innovative daughter of an Artist-For-Hire hides behind an admiration of her father's works to conceal her own (unencouraged) love of painting. By chance, Arden is discovered by the Queen Elza, a lover of art herself. Arden is whi...
The evening wains. Quests trickle out of the Palace, leaving Arden to wonder what her role to play in the evening is or if she is to return to her chamber. Her greatest comfort in the uncertainty of the evening is found in observing the paintings hung on the walls, framed in gilt and finely inlaid gold. Curiously enough, most of the paints are historic and even reverent. As she observes the technique of the paintings, the way light fades into shadows and a sort of brownish tint creates a sense of bleak, Arden feels a presence beside her. Instantly, she turns, nearly colliding with a glass extended her way.
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"Madame Vegee," Mayven stands at a respectable distance, offering her champagne. "I find we are both out of place here, or so it feels."
Unintentionally, Arden smiles. "Is it so noticeable?"
"Not at all," Mayven answers. "I only know how to recognize your discomfort after experiencing years of my own. I trust no one else would know how very displaced you feel."
Again, she smiles, taken back by how approachable Mayven feels. "I find it shocking,"
"What?" He looks fervently at her, providing every ounce of his attention.
"ONly that you could feel out of place here," Arden says. "You seem more welcome than the King's legitimate children," Arden speaks before she considers what she is saying, instantly looking to retract. "Forgive me. That was not proper."
Mayven laughs, his thick black hair falling into his eyes. "Please, don't be uneasy. You'll find I am fond of direct conversation." Silence ensues between them, Arden modestly turning her attention back to the oil painting before her. Mayven speaks again, "When I heard Her Majesty was ushering another pet into court, I was not surprised. However, meeting you has indeed surprised me."
"Why is that?" Arden asks, sipping the champagne while noting in her peripheral vision the Monarch and his Mistress observing.
"You seem as though you won't be fashioned to fit a mold other than your own." He replies. "I think the Queen has a splendid outlook and intends on doing as much good as possible, but she is often vexed if her favorites cannot be controlled."
Arden feels her stomach lurch. "I have come here with no expectations."
"Surely not," Mayven speaks quickly. "But I imagine Queen Elza has brought you here with expectations."
Arden notes for the second time in the evening that an individual references the Queen's alterior motives, a revelation that breeds unrest. Nevertheless, Arden smiles and concludes that she shall remain indifferent. "I am certain that no matter the motives that brought me here, I shall make my own way." Her words are spoken with such confidence that deep down, Arden finds she believes them.
Mayven raises his glass to her and with a warm smile, he turns away, speaking a bold farewell as he does. "Good evening, Madame de Vegee, I hope to speak with you again very soon."
