AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You might think me weak for turning him down, but I’d think myself weak for saying yes.” I took a drink of wine. “I’m not aligning with Lord Winster.”
Odette’s red lips pressed into a line. “You’re being difficult.”
I turned my back to Lord Winster. “What if I promised to think about it?”
“Then you’d be lying.” The faintest smile touched her lips. “Do things your way. I’d expect no less from a girl who chose a black mask.”
I scanned the room for another wearing a black mask, but there was no one. I already stood out in that regard, and now I’d be a Mortal Queen with only one alliance.
“As long as you’re just here for the food . . .” Odette nodded toward the sitting room off to the right. A large chandelier lit up the oval area where a grand piano sat in the middle. Leaning against the piano was a large cream canvas with clay jars beside it. I sucked in my breath. “Talen got the art supplies and wanted them delivered here first. You can show off your talent to the realm.”
“Talen has no idea if I’m any good,” I said. But my chest welled with gratitude.
Odette took the goblet back. “Try not to let him down. With any luck, your painting skills can acquire you respect, which can be as powerful as an alliance.”
I looked at her. “My painting skill can carry as much weight as an alliance with Lord Winster?”
“No,” she admitted. “But it can lead to new ones. If anything, you can give the painting to Lord Winster as a gift of friendship to soothe the blow of not aligning.”
The last gift of friendship almost killed me. But I nodded. “May I?”
Odette pulled her skirt out of the way. “Go ahead. Entertain us.”
Wind from the open windows tossed my hair from my face as I strode into the sitting room, letting the dainty music outside lull me into happier thoughts. Masked faces turned to watch me as I ran my hand over the canvas. It was larger than any I could afford back home and was as thick as a hide. Nine clay jars held paints, the oils already mixed for me. Talen had found long brushes with clean bristles as white as sand, but he’d sent my old brushes as well. I chose one of those to have something familiar between my fingers and sat in the provided chair.
I glanced over my shoulder for Odette. She stood with the fae gathered outside the sitting room door, Lord Winster in their midst, all watching me intently.
Entertain us.
I dipped the brush and began.
My fingers itched to paint some of the wonders I’d seen in this world, like the curtain of delicate sapphires outside Lord Winster’s home or the golden chariots in the sky or the islands with rivers of gold flowing off them, but none of those things would impress the fae. Instead, I painted something of my world they hadn’t seen.
I painted a boy—calculating and thoughtful—and his sister—reckless and naive—trapped in a world of sand and heat. A stone wall surrounded them, while the sand whipped around their feet and a storm brewed in the clouds. Their father pushed dull blades into their hands to force them to spar once more, though they both bled. Their eyes were fixed on each other, but I knew a moment before this image, the boy had stared over the marble wall to the university while the girl looked up in search of a realm she only dreamed of.
Smooth paint glided over the canvas. If I hadn’t been selected, I’d be on Ruen studying art right now. I’d have paint on my cheek instead of gold flecks in my hair and an apron around my waist instead of seven earrings in my ear. Teachers would watch me instead of fae.
They didn’t make a noise, and twice I checked to be certain I held their attention. Odette gave a nod of approval.
“It’s my brother and me back home,” I explained while giving more attention to Cal’s features. “We trained under my father to fight, even though there was no battle that needed soldiers. But my brother always wanted to study academics, not fight in a war.”
My brush hovered over his face. The eyes weren’t quite right, but I’d captured the ruffle of his hair and the curve of his head as he looked down his blade at me.
I’d nailed my father’s eyes. Strong and demanding.
I’d drawn the last day all three of us fought. Cal and I planned to tell Father the next morning we didn’t want to train further. We wanted to Passion as an artist and an academic. Cal had scripted the exact words we’d say so we didn’t disappoint Father too terribly, and he was smart enough to suggest we first tell Mother so she could calm Father when we told him. He’d given it much more thought than I had. All I knew was I didn’t want to fight anymore.
Mother disappeared that night. We’d been in a shaky peace, but enemies from the mountains in the west who were unhappy with how the war had ended stormed upon the five islands. When the dust settled back into the sea, our mother was nowhere to be found. Those enemies never attacked again, but they’d already taken everything from me.
We never got the chance to tell Father about our Passions. He never asked us to train again.
That wasn’t true. Two months ago, Father had taken me alone to the training brig. He’d worked me relentlessly all day.
Why? I had asked him through the sweat on my face. It’s pointless. I don’t need to know how to fight.
You do, he’d insisted. You need it more than you know.
I had humored him for one last memory with my father before I left for Ruen. But now his cryptic words settled over me like an unsolved mystery. Had he known back then I’d be chosen?
