The paining (6) - not edited

I figure out Alexander's reasons soon enough.

I'm still yawning when we reach the room where we'll pose for the paintings. I manage to move, somehow.

I walk till there on my own tired legs and sit on a chair while the servants arrange the thrones where we'll sit.

At first, those were one next to the other. Then, the servants figured we'd hurt our necks by looking at each other, and they slightly inclined them towards one another.

Mine is also a little more in the front, probably for Alexander to check on me without difficulties.

All these arrangements won't be visible in the painting, so I allow them to move things around. In the end, it's just an old tradition. No one out of Stoneyard will see this painting regardless.

I might commission the painter for another one a little less regal.

«Daddy, can Vinnie have a painting with you and mother?» a sweet voice says, behind me.

«This one is for the room. But I will make enough copies for both you and me.»

«Vinnie wants a painting of mother with loose hair. Is that possible?»

«Oh, such a great idea,» Alexander comments.

What is he doing? This moron planned to use our daughter to convince me to pose! He thinks I wouldn't notice?

How could our daughter ask for my painting instead of his? I'm not that easy to trick. I know he's the one wanting a painting with my hair down.

«You have a good eye, just like your daddy,» Alexander says while delivering Lavinia to a maid. «Now be a good girl and let your mother and me have a panting of our own.»

«Can Vinnie have a copy?»

«You're just like your mother,» he chuckles. «We'll see. We'll make plenty of copies and we'll split them among ourselves.»

«I like daddy's drawings more even when they don't have so many colours,» Lavinia murmurs.

What? Whose drawings?

Alexander widens his eyes, signalling to the little ball not to talk about it in front of me. If I wasn't this exhausted, I would have already got up and investigated.

But I'm not sure I can get up on my own. Better not try and make a fool of myself in front of everyone.

When the preparations are over, Alexander comes to me and offers his hand. I get up and lean on him while moving on the chair. I fix the skirt to look even more regal and check the makeup on a small mirror. The love bite of this morning is completely covered. Kate managed to make it almost invisible.

I'm not that embarrassed to be seen like this by the servants. Not anymore: I'm used to it. It's the fact that we'll be imprinted into canvas that worries me.

I'd prefer if the future generations didn't have this part of Alexander as an example to look up to. I'm doing it for the future Ladies. They don't deserve to be bitten and mistreated by their husbands.

Unless they enjoy it. But in that case, they don't need an example. They'll find a way on their own.

I straighten my back and lean on Alexander's chair's armrest. Mine doesn't have one, to better accommodate the dress.

«Vinnie wants to watch,» Lavinia murmurs from behind.

«Don't worry,» Alexander whispers to me. «You just rest, I will solve this...»

Oh, he's just looking for an excuse to hold the little ball in his arms and spoil her more.

«Come here,» he says, but not directed to Lavinia.

From the corner of the room, getting less and less crowded as the painter positions for the first draft, Olly walks to us and offers his hand to Lavinia.

«Young miss, would you like to go out and play in the garden?» he says.

Lavinia purses her lips, thinking.

«Play what?»

«Ball.»

«No, I want to stay with my daddy.»

Olly is working in Alexander's office, so I haven't seen him for a while. I'm relieved my husband isn't frightening the young boy to death.

It's true that Alexander came home two days ago, and he spent most of the time with me or our daughter. He didn't have time to scare people around.

Still, I know that Alexander and Olly found a way to live together and work without scaring or being scared. All without my involvement.

Olly bows down to whisper, pretending to have some secret to tell her.

«I've snatched some cookies from the kitchens,» he says.

«Cookies?» Lavinia says. Her firm will starts to waver.

«Apple cookies.»

She blinks, taking an uncertain step in Olly's direction.

«And lemonade.»

She lifts her hand, and the two leave for a morning snack.

Has my little ball always been so easy to swindle? Just some food?

«Eyes on me,» Alexander says, and I turn to him.

Then, I remember why I'm sitting here and not moving at all.

I shouldn't look at Alexander but at the painter. So that my face and regal expression are imprinted in the portrait.

Alexander's hand finds mine, on the armrest, and we entwine our fingers before even noticing.

Just like the in the painting with Alexander's parents.

Sensing that we're done adjusting, the painter starts with the sketch. Even though I do have a lot of drawings, I'm not used to posing. Alexander doesn't need to see me to remember how I am.

He once wanted to explain to me what exactly we were supposed to do, following out plans to conceive Elias. Since I couldn't recall the details from my dreams, Alexander just draw it down.

I started scolding him, embarrassed and crumbled the paper and sent him out of the room for the afternoon. He can't know that I still have that drawing hidden in a drawer.

My lips distend in a smile, but I manage to stop them before exaggerating. The painter seems to notice, and he stops drawing to look.

I knew it. I shouldn't have moved.

«Perfect,» he murmurs while returning to his work.

Alexander peeks to my face and sighs.

«Think about me,» he utters.

I tighten my fingers' grip, to make him understand that I never stop thinking about him.

Why does he doubt me now? Even after a whole night of obedience, he can mistrust me this much?

The painter seems to notice something and returns staring again.

«My Lady, would you like to take a break?» he inquires.

«No, I'm fine.»

«Please, can you think about whatever was on your mind before? Your expression was perfect a few minutes ago...»

As I blush, wondering about my perverse nature, the painter nods and returns to his work. He has just started mixing the colours, and it's been half an hour!

How long is it going to take?

I can't start asking right from the start. Lavinia didn't complain, so neither can I. Where has there been a mother less mature than her child?

It's not that hard, though, with Alexander next to me.

After being apart for so long, even just holding hands is enough to feel close.

I don't mind anymore that he purposely arranged the painting now, right after our long night.