Court Painter

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Trembling. That's all Arden can focus on as she balances the unused paintbrush in her hand, hovering it over the canvas. In all her years of painting, she has never touched anything new nor has she ever made a single mark on a canvas. Additionally, she has never painted in the presence of another. Now, Queen Elza and her Ladies lounge in the gardens before her, expecting to appear in her final painting while the Queen's daughters observe from behind, awaiting Arden's first strokes. Tea is to be held in the gardens while Arden paints. The sun pools on the ground in warm patches of light, creating an augmented sense of light source, a complicated illusion to recreate. With a deep breath, Arden runs the paintbrush across the canvas, giving way to what feels like a form of love. With each new stroke, every change of color, every detail of shade and depth, Arden's confidence grows. As the Queen's daughters move closer, finding themselves more invested in the production, Arden herself becomes aware of their admiration, a feeling she has never once felt.

Painting has always been a secretive matter, a practice conducted at night, never to be praised nor to be rewarded. At last, Arden finds a sense of belonging as she composes a likeness of the Queen and her ladies entertaining a luxurious afternoon in the gardens.

An hour has passed and the ladies begin moving with Arden's permission. The moment to reveal her work arrives as Queen Elza eagerly moves behind Arden. Silence.

And finally, a gentle gasp. "Come," She summons her ladies and they all gather around, silently observing. Arden dares not turn to see their expressions. While details still remain to be added, the composition is nearly done and it is a fair representation of what the final piece will look like. Queen Elza speaks.

"It is unlike any painting I have seen of these gardens." Her words are full of approval. "I am ever so pleased, Madame Vegee."

Thus, later that evening as Arden sits in her room applying the final strokes of detail, she acquaints herself with a new feeling of satisfaction and pride. And the next morning, as she watches the painting hung in the Queen's Bedchamber, next to her vanity, Arden realizes her works used to be hidden beneath a floorboard and they are now admired by her Monarch. 

"I saw your painting," Mayven approaches Arden as she strolls through the tangling maze of forests. "I must say, it was very pleasing to look at. 

Arden dares not meet his gaze for fear of being deemed improper as they are entirely alone. "You are too kind."

"I am only honest," he says, noting her cool response. "Have you ever tried painting a likeness of someone? I mean, not just their impression but every detail of their face?"

Arden watches the ground as she walks, careful not to snag her white gown on the tree roots. "I have not."

"I think you would find you are very good at it."

"I am only here to paint whatever pleases the Queen."

Mayven grins. "I hear the Queen may be looking for more intimate paintings soo."

Arden's cheeks flush and finally, she meets Mayven's gaze as they both come to a halt. "What do you mean by that?"

Straightening his jacket, Mayven stands a little taller. "I am only saying that my father isn't the only one who dabbles in indiscretions." 

"What sorts of indiscretions?" Arden demands, inwardly chastizing herself for addressing the King's son in such a manner. 

Mayven smiles down at her, looking directly into her eyes. "It would be easier to show you and less awkward than explaining."