Once Aurora had exhausted all her tears, she finally looked at the dimly lit room.
There were easels and incomplete paintings all around. Buckets of different colored paints, and brushes of all sizes were placed on a table pushed to the wall. The carpet was stained with hundreds of colors, an accumulation of years of use.
Aurora walked around, admiring the paintings till she came across an empty canvas.
She grabbed a few brushes and saw a palette filled with bluish shades.
Painting was her way of letting out her feelings - she seldom cried due to the headache she got the day after, and the vicious swipes of the brush were the only things that could comfort her.
It had been a long time since she had painted, though.
Her father refused to give her money to buy food for herself, and she knew for a fact that asking for art supplies just meant another hour of beatings.
She didn't know for how long she painted, but when she opened her eyes, she realized that without meaning to, she had drawn her favorite flower - a carnation.
In the exact color of the Queen's eyes -a dark blue bordering on violet.
Aurora dropped to the ground, hugging her knees.
Her anger and pain had drained - Grigori was insensitive. But if he had known what she was going through, he wouldn't have said so.
"That looks lovely," a voice said.
Aurora didn't turn, and felt someone sit near her.
She sighed, and finally looked to her side to see the maid she had helped in the morning, sitting in a similar position as her.
Aurora forced a smile as she asked, "How's your hand?".
It had been bandaged well in a white cloth.
"All fine," the woman replied, waving it, as though proving she was fine.
"How did you find me?" Aurora asked, when it became clear that the woman wouldn't speak more.
"Your shoes. They had been abandoned somewhere along the way. And I remembered that you enjoyed painting," the woman said.
Aurora narrowed her eyes. "How do you know that?".
The woman faltered slightly before answering, "I saw the live telecast".
"Oh," was all Aurora said.
"How did you abandon your slippers like that?" the woman asked curiously.
"I hate wearing them. Heels, shoes, slippers. They're too restricting. And I see you feel the same way too," she said, staring at the woman's fair, bare feet.
The woman shrugged.
"Are you upset as to what happened?" the woman asked gently, pressing her uninjured hand to Aurora's cheek.
Instinctively, Aurora leaned into it.
It had been a long time since someone had touched her like that.
"It's hard not to," Aurora admitted. "I'm sure he didn't mean to be so crude".
"But that doesn't give him the right to speak so inappropriately, especially to women who are already nervous enough," the maid said sharply.
"You sound like the Queen," Aurora joked, missing the woman's widening blue eyes.
"What do you think of the her?" the maid asked suddenly.
"I'm very grateful to the Queen and King for interfering -," she began carefully before she was interrupted.
"I asked you what you thought of them. Not what you felt about them," the maid said before adding, "Don't worry, you can talk freely here. This is the King's private painting room".
"Private painting room? He paints?" Aurora asked.
She had snapped back at the Queen, intruded the King's personal room, and had been kicked out of the stage by the Prince.
It was confirmed.
She would be eliminated by tomorrow too.
The woman nodded and said, "Answer me".
Aurora sighed. "She seems...".
"She seems what?" the woman prodded.
"Very sad," Aurora completed.
"Sad?".
Aurora nodded. "She's a strong person. I gathered as much as I saw her speak, and remain silent throughout the other interviews. But she's sad. Same with the King. They're hiding something, and whatever it is, it pains them very much".
"You're very observant," the woman said after a while.
"So I've been told," Aurora answered tiredly.
She leaned on the other woman's shoulder, feeling an inexplicable emotion run through her.
The woman had gone abnormally still - Aurora could hear her inhale loudly.
"What's your name?" Aurora asked her, her voice muffled as she pressed her face to the woman's pleasant smelling clothes.
"Have you eaten at all today?" the woman asked, changing the topic.
"I'm used to not eating," Aurora said warily.
There was a short poignant pause.
"It's way past your curfew time," the maid said.
"I have a curfew time?".
The woman nodded, and Aurora lifted her head from her shoulder.
"You're two hours late," the woman said, pointing to the large clock on the wall across them.
"Holy hell," Aurora cursed, not bothering to blush as she saw the woman stare at her. She scrambled to her feet. "Andrea is going to kill me!".
"You'll be fine," the woman tried to comfort her.
"I'll see you later," Aurora said, weaving through the multiple easels towards the door.
"What about your painting?" the woman called after her.
"You keep it!" Aurora shouted as she ran through the corridors, asking directions from various guards and servants before reaching her room.
She knocked her door, and before she could see who opened it, someone flung themselves on her.
Aurora staggered behind, hissing in pain.
Kate.
"Oh thank god you're here," Andrea said, pulling them apart.
"You two need to go to bed. You'll be having a long day tomorrow, and it's already late," Julia said, coming from the adjoining room.
"I thought you'd scream at me," Aurora said, confused.
"Later!" Andrea scolded, throwing a nightgown at her.
Aurora changed quickly, and saw her maids assembled, waiting to tuck her in bed.
"Good night," she said sleepily, asleep before her head hit the pillow.
***
Elora walked into her inner chambers, carrying an easel awkwardly into the room.
Her husband came up to her, and hugged her as soon as she placed the easel on the ground. "I was so worried about you. I was this close to ordering an Amber Alert".
"What am I, a child?" Elora asked, dusting her black skirt. "You know I can defend myself".
"True. But that doesn't stop me from worrying," Edward said, looking at her costume.
"Don't," she said. "Not a word".
Edward smirked as he said, "I think I like it".
"Don't get any ideas," Elora warned, before smacking him gently on his chest.
She walked to her closet, and changed into her night clothes. When she came out, she saw her husband staring at the painting she had brought.
"This isn't one of mine," he stated.
"That is correct," Elora said, sitting on the bed, patting the space next to her.
Edward got the hint and sat next to her, pulling the easel along with him.
"Who did it?" he asked curiously. "And where were you? You disappeared for quite a bit".
"I had to change into the maid's clothes to follow the girl. Aurora. She had somehow made her way to your painting room, and was painting when I found her," Elora answered. "She didn't even notice me enter the room, actually. Once she finished, she fell to the ground. And then I made conversation with her".
"How did she know blue carnations were your favorite?" Edward asked, staring at the beautiful painting.
"She doesn't. I think she just drew it unthinkingly," Elora said.
"I still think she knows who you are," Edward said, an expression of doubt flitting on his face.
"No... She doesn't Ed," Elora insisted. "I saw the tear tracks on her face, Edward. She was very real and genuine and was quite upset at what Grigori said".
"Remind me again - why is he not fired yet?" he asked angrily.
"Because his family has had this job for over six hundred years," Elora reminded gently, though she was just as angry as him.
Edward sighed, running his hand through his pale hair, that looked more silver as he aged.
"She leaned her head against my shoulder, Ed," Elora said, her voice trembling. "I couldn't help but think... That was how our daughter would act with me, if she were with us. I just... it makes no sense, Ed".
"This is the first time you've made conversation with a girl that age, Elora," her husband said softly. "You're just fantasizing".
"I know. I know. We don't know anything about how she looks, but-".
"Imagining what our life could have been does us no good, Elora. We can't. You can't. Because we've gone through this multiple times - we've gotten so many false leads. We can't do this again. Especially not now, when we've let thirty five new people and multiple cameramen into the palace," Edward said.
"We know she has brown eyes like you," Elora said.
"And that's like about ninety five percent of the girls in our country. We don't even know if she's in our country, Elora," the King said, almost sobbing.
Elora exhaled loudly.
Her husband was right.
She had to stop thinking of what ifs.
"Come," she said, switching off the lights with a wave of her hand. "Let's go to bed".
But they both remained in the same position for a very long time.