Silver: The Lost Royal

27 | The Garden of Gloves

A low grumble from her stomach made her realize she couldn't keep staring at the garden lights and pondering through questions. If she did, she would never leave because the questions were simply endless.

She headed out of the room, counting her steps and paying as much attention to each turn and stair she took. Despite her precision, she found herself lost and had to ask a passing worker for help. She made her way to the dining room in tow with the worker and there she found Lady Minerva alone at the head of the table. With all chairs empty by the side, the light clinking of silverware became as loud as thunder, until the lady's voice broke through, clear and crisp as if she was beside Karyn.

"Karynanda! It seems you and I planned to eat later than usual today."

Karyn glanced around before her eyes met a wall clock that told her it was ten minutes past eight. Had she slept that long?

She gave a smile and settled down at Lady Minerva's right before another worker served her a meal, one she delved into with speed. Lady Minerva's light chuckle floated around her and even after the lady had finished, she waited until Karyn had done the same.

"Come, I have somewhere I want to show you," Lady Minerva said, rising to her feet with a palm outstretched. They headed out and after some turns, they arrived at a room.

Karyn couldn't keep her jaw from falling as her eyes moved from painting to painting of various sizes, colors, and frames surrounding them in an organized mess. The windows had deep blue curtains adorning them which swayed gently in the breeze, with the lights above making them shine in a cool glow. The countless amount of paintings made Karyn wonder if this was a gallery of various people's art, but they all shared a subtle current of similarity she picked up on.

The sight struck a longing in her chest. When was the last time she had relished the gentle sweep of a paintbrush against a canvas? The memory of Mr. Will's classroom seemed so distant now.

"These are so beautiful."

She wanted to reach out and feel the dried paint-something about the texture always soothed her-but she stopped herself and ran her hand across the frames instead.

"Thank you."

Karyn spun with wide eyes resting on Lady Minerva, who flashed her a pleasant smile.

"Did you... paint these?" She saw the answer in Lady Minerva's eyes, yet she still asked, "All of these?"

"My father had given me my first paintbrush and since then, I could never drop it. Though I parted with that brush a long time ago."

Suddenly, the room felt intimate. Karyn knew she didn't just stare at paintings, but she was looking at various fragments of the lady's soul and mind. The realization made her feel like an intruder. Had the lady ever allowed anyone else in this room?

She stopped at a painting of a park. The radiant blue hue of the sky was a perfect blend with the rich green of the trees. Below, the vibrant colors of children at play merged into a kaleidoscope of joy and innocence one could only find in parks. It reminded her of her very first painting. One of Elowen.

"Here," Lady Minerva said, and Karyn turned. Her eyes drifted down to the lady's outstretched hand, where she found long, slender fingers clenched around a framed square painting. The picture was upside down, but she knew who they were just from the crowns.

She took it from the woman, her fingers cradling it as if it would shatter on any impact. When she righted the picture, the sight stole her breath. Her chest raised and remained as she stared at the frozen smiles.

The man had a round nose and a sharp jawline. His face held a softness that showed hints of stoic and firmness. His hair as black as coal fell to his shoulders. Something in her wanted to tug and play with it. Almost as if she could feel the softness of it as she ran the pad of her thumb over his hair, down his cheeks, and to his lips.