The King's Artist

Epilogue

October 29th, 1505

20 years later

He hadn't turned to look at her since she entered the room. He had continued to stare through one of the room's windows, appearing lost in thought as he watched the snow gradually falling on his land. His hands were clasped behind his back, his shoulders squared and back in regal pride and grace. His brown hair was streaked with grey, but still long, dancing just above his shoulders. 

Adelaide wished he would turn to look at her. She wanted to know how he had changed. Did his face have more laugh lines than frown lines? Was he still as handsome as she remembered? Was there anything remaining of the boy she had left behind so many years ago? 

"You can set up your things over there," Henry said rather solemnly, still not directly addressing her. She had intended to follow his instructions, but when she went to move towards the canvas placed in the center of the room, she found her limbs lethargic and heavy. 

How did one address a king again? She had served several over the years in various courts, but suddenly any words of formality were lost to her. 

She readjusted her bag of paints and brushes as she contemplated an appropriate greeting, and the sound drew the King's attention to finally turn and look at her. 

Brown eyes met blue, and the room seemed to go utterly still. 

Adelaide couldn't even hear the fireplace crackling in the room or the distant sounds of servants bustling through the halls. The only thing she could focus on was the sharp intake of Henry's breath as his gaze widened in shock and disbelief. 

He looked like she'd just slapped him. 

And Adelaide couldn't help it, she laughed. 

"Surprise?" She said sheepishly. And then she cringed. Those had not been the first words that she had wanted to say to him. Adelaide had rehearsed their reunion in her head and dreamed about it a countless number of times, but just as she had forgotten royal etiquette, none of those fantasies sprung to mind. 

Henry continued looking at her as if he was seeing a ghost. The quiet of the room hung and unlike in the past, it was not a comfortable silence between them. Adelaide shifted on her feet, coughed to clear her throat, and gravitated towards the easel. There wasn't much else set up in the room, which meant there wasn't really anything else to distract her attention. She contemplated gazing at the portraits that hung on the wall to give herself something to focus on, but she never liked looking at the work of others before she herself painted. She found their images stuck in her head and distracted her from her own style. 

"Would you like to take a seat?" Adelaide asked rather stiffly. She gestured towards the single chair positioned in front of the canvas as she began to unload her supplies. She added after a beat, "Your Majesty?" 

 Henry's mouth snapped closed as he shook the daze from his head. "You were sent to paint me?" 

"I was," she nodded, refusing to make eye contact as she ran her brushes through her hands. "I've painted a number of things for the Holy Roman Empire, so when Herman Rinck proposed hiring me, Emperor Maximilian [I] had no opposition."

When Henry didn't respond, Adelaide finally raised her head to face him. She wasn't prepared for the amount of pride she would see in his eyes.

"You've been hired by the Holy Roman Emperor?" He asked in astonishment as he finally began to migrate towards the center of the room. His nearing proximity had Adelaide's heart racing. She almost wanted to scoff at her body's reaction. It had been twenty years and she was still reacting to him as she had as a child?