Chapter 270: Chapter 270
[ What would the Prince like to talk about? ]
"... Anything the Lady finds entertaining... Perhaps, about your art?" — Zeleskiaz responded, ignorant of what other topic to suggest.
At first, he felt bewildered as he had already acknowledged his difficulty when making small conversation. Yet regardless of the hazard, the idea of her hobby emerged as a proposal once he recalled the skill of her strokes.
A gratifying emotion had replaced his brief trouble, as he saw between the lines of her letters that the Lady wished to talk about what the Prince would like. Leading the man to find reassurance in such belief during his pause as he had lifted his gaze to see in her eyes the displeasure at his initial mumblings which somehow permitted the quick birth of an idea.
"I had the opportunity to appreciate Dioclecià’s drawing you gifted... I am impressed that my Lady’s hands can also create beautiful portrayals."
[ Those are very kind words. Thank you, my Prince. ]
"... From what I could discern, the Lady finds delight sketching sceneries."
There was an implied enticement in the Lady’s stares. One that wished to drive him who had difficulty, into making more of the ongoing conversation.
And Zeleskiaz complied, glad that her essence was delectable and one in which his shortcomings were accepted with sweetness.
Kind responses from the woman followed. Granting tiny leads he could pick to continue engaging in conversation. Learning her preferences, her motivation and other tiny details she considered in her skilful activity.
"Then, my Lady’s tool is large as you favour sceneries over portraits."
[ Yes. Sceneries change while I make them. The kind of light falling on them along their colours. As well as the one flower that tomorrow could vanish.
I feel they change faster... Although people are the same...]
"Mmm... I am not versed in artistic matters..." — Zeleskiaz commented, pondering as he observed his rough hands on the difficulty her skill would signify for him to execute. Yet his attention was required by the light poke of her finger.
[ If I am to be truthful, your Highness. There is another reason I prefer sceneries. ]
"What reason would that be, my Lady?" — Delighted by the timid glint of the woman, he asked intrigued.
[ Drawing a person is still difficult for myself.]
Shrinking in her shoulders, slightly ashamed to admit what she found difficult in art, Marianne peeked at the Prince.
"It ought to be... yet Dioclecià was truly well drawn, my lady... Perhaps it is a perspective matter?"
"!"
[ It is indeed! ]
Her energy was made apparent. Quickly little bits of messages commenced being delayed to the amazed man.
[ When it comes to portraits, I ought to focus on a closer view. ]
"I see–"
[More details need to be drawn too. ]
"That is–..."
[ And so, more mistakes can also be found. ]
"... Haha. Hence, the Lady prefers sceneries. For they need a wider view and details can be done without much focus?"
’That’s right!’ — Elated, she nodded.
[I have studied people’s anatomy. Nonetheless, it is still difficult. I find further peace when drawing my surroundings as nature is much gentle when it comes to keeping a stance. ]
An innocent jest was given within her explanation, which was effective to the attentive man who widely smiled at the adorable humour she was showing him.
"Indeed... Maintaining a pose is certainly... haha... Oh, my Lady. Haha, Indeed it is difficult."
’See? I bet you have cursed at the artist if you’ve ever let one portray you~’
Pleasantry was palpable and contagious in their ambience. The softness of her visage happened naturally as her souls enjoyed the time shared with the gentleman. And he learned of it swiftly, as if wrapped by the warmth she possessed.
’... lovely woman...’ — Zeleskiaz described the appreciated sight before him. — ’Would you also shine as delighted if I told you how I envy Dioclecià?’
Joy was born from the illusion such an idea entailed. Nonetheless, the Crown Prince would not tell, as he knew his impulse could ruin the delectable travel they now indulged in each other’s company.
"To think you would choose such truthful fact... I do believe those who create portraits have trouble with the people portrayed."
’I bet they do. Imagine they move or start whining about it. Sigh... patience is a gift, Crown Prince. Believe me.’ — She answered with silent nods of agreement.
"As you are going back to your residence, will you also stroll through your garden for sceneries?"
"..."
[Yes. That I also did before heeding your invitation to the Palace, your Highness. ]
"... I believe your manor has plenty of nature surrounding it... will you venture into it for new sights?"
"....."
[ I will. ]
After an extended pause of blank staring into the Crown Prince’s hues, Marianne responded with a short message.
She had been reminded of the outing her father had suggested to the Forest House. One she imagined would be far from her home. Where the promised letters would not reach her. Where a visit from the Prince could not be permitted.
[ Father told me about the Forest House. ] — Against what the discretion her mind wanted to keep, Marianne wrote to inform the man. Also honouring his request to tell without much thought. — [ The sights I will see there, I am expectant to depict them on my sheets. ]
"... I see. The Forest House... the one of the aching bard songs."
"?"
"The bard from the legend came to be known as the aching bard. Hurt from the loss of a beloved, his voice... made the people’s heart ache when his melody was sung..."
’I see...’ — Marianne understood the appropriate answer she received at her implied doubt.
However, she was not the only one holding thoughts from the legend.
’It was said it rained when the bard sang for the last time... I wonder if his sadness was perceived by the sky... To lose the one he loved...’
Pain invaded Zeleskiaz as he contemplated.
His imagination hurt him. For, placing himself in the mundane bard’s shoes, inflicted desperation in his heart at the thought of losing the ambrosial woman sitting next to him, with who he fell in helpless love.
Such legend was indeed one made by the inhabitants of this realm. The truth behind it... is doubtful, yet not inconceivable.
For Zeleskiaz... far in the past, he had read the many legends conceded upon this Sanguine Cinder Realm. Regardless, it is only at the present that he comprehends the deepness legends could conceal.
Learning the heavenly sensation and complexity love carried in its infinite entirety had awakened a part of him he never used properly.
That one Marianne, the two souls inside her, had abused at some point in their separate lives.
Sympathy.
’Was I the bard... madness would have drowned my soul’s existence.’ — Overwhelmed he stated deeply in his core.