 The king had liked her mural and Renn had been over the moon. It had been a long time since she had enjoyed doing something so much. She had spent hours in the library flicking through old history books drawing inspiration from the stories and the illuminations which brought them to life. She had studied the architecture and sigils preserved on yellowing pages and had built up a little scrapbook of all her ideas. When she attended the banquets in the great hall she looked up at the royal family in their seats on the dais and scribbled down her observations in her little pocket sketchbook. Renn had made note of everything, from the embroidery on the king and prince’s shirts, and Lord Mordred’s belt buckle and ring to Lady Morgana’s headdress and Lady Nimueh’s necklaces. When she was happy that she had a good enough idea of their tastes she had drawn out a full-scale plan. She had felt herself come alive when she had finally begun to paint up onto the stone wall in the west corridor. She had especially enjoyed applying the gold leaf – she hadn’t had the opportunity before.
She had been paid handsomely for her work, but that wasn’t the part that had made her smile. Whenever she felt low or her mind fixated itself upon Henry she simply closed her eyes and remembered the looks on the royal family’s faces when she had unveiled her work. It was the greatest reward they could have given her. The transformation she had been through since had been remarkable. She had started playing happier tunes on her violin and sometimes when she was moving around her family’s apartment in the castle she had taken to singing quietly, some of the spring back in her step. It had been a long road, but she had found the end of the tunnel. And now the king had asked her to work on a series of portraits.
At first he had only requested a family composition, but Renn had offered to supply individual paintings too and he had agreed! She had been invited to a number of sittings in order to sketch her subjects. It was difficult to find the time to get them all together for the composition, so Renn had decided that she would use the sketches from the individual sittings and combine them. It wasn’t something she had tried before, but she was sure it could be done. Once again she had taken to carrying her sketchbook into dinner with her and had watched the little family on the dais. She was looking for natural expressions, when they spoke to each other, when they spoke to others, when they laughed and when they frowned. She wanted to get a feel for who they were so that she could get the same things to pop out in the paintings. They had all been incredibly kind to her and answered her questions during their sittings, but there was nothing like witnessing people when they didn’t know you were watching.
Renn was sitting on the floor of her bedroom and all around her, scattered around the floor, were various sketches of the king’s family. She had been trying to decide on her favourites for hours before giving up in frustration. She had picked up her charcoals instead and had worked off her irritation by sketching a different face. Renn blew on her paper to rid it of the tiny grains of charcoal that had gathered on its surface. She sighed as she looked down at Henry’s face. It was how she remembered it when they had been children and everything had been how it should have been. The door to the apartment closed with a bang and Renn’s head snapped up, struck by a sudden idea. She tucked the drawing of her brother haphazardly into her folder and ran to the door.
“Danny!” she said brightly, grinning at her little brother as she poked her head around the door. “Can you come in here for a minute and help me out? I’ve been talking myself around in circles for days and I could do with a fresh pair of eyes.”
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