Heir of the Underground

Chapter 16: Prissayne

Prissayne's visit to Rheolaeth continued on with few problems. Though her first day there had its hiccups—thanks to Magni's drunkenness and late introduction—her time spent in his presence and in the palace only improved from there.

She couldn't say that in spending more time in Rheolaeth that she was excited about her marriage. But she could certainly say that she was more at peace with it. Her future was malleable. Magni was malleable. There was room for change, which she was certain that she could find a way to instigate.

Surprisingly—or perhaps, unsurprisingly—she saw little of Eldridge. He mostly stuck to the room he had been given, or he set himself up in the gardens or a spot in the ballroom and just painted. All day.

In typical Eldridge fashion, something would catch his eye, he'd latch onto it emotionally, and then feel the urge to sit and paint it. It was lovely seeing him at work, so passionate and feeling so creative.

Magni even took note of this. On the tours he had taken Prissayne on during her visit, he often brought Eldridge up in conversation.

In the marketplace, they passed a merchant selling art. Magni suggested that Eldridge sell his own paintings one day. On a tour of the garden, Magni pointed out a patch of flowers that he thought Eldridge might like to depict. On a trip to the library, Magni even offered to lend books regarding artists' techniques to Eldridge.

His interest in the boy was odd. In a way, it almost seemed like a tactic, like a plan to win his way into Prissayne's heart. Yet, it seemed to be working all the same. She felt her opinion of him softening with each passing moment.

Now, they walked around the halls together, examining all of the paintings. There were hundreds of them all over the walls, depicting battles and parties. There were portraits too, of family members, new and old.

They passed by the row of kings, of Magni's father Percival and Percival's father Fenric, and then stopped by an empty spot beside the men. Magni gestured, giving a lopsided grin. "You know," he began, "I'm still overdue for my portrait, seeing as though I was coronated just a year ago. Do you think Eldridge would be willing to paint mine?"

Prissayne chuckled at that and gave a light shake of her head. "He paints only what he finds interesting or odd. So, if you're that set on him painting you, you'll have to intrigue him in some way."

"Ah," Magni remarked. "Then I suppose I'm out of luck." He guided her a few paces farther, to the portraits of the queens. Again, there were two, his mother and grandmother. And beside them was a blank spot. "You'll go right here," he gestured. "And you'll look just as stunning, I'm sure. Your dark skin, impeccable hair, and sea-colored eyes create the perfect contrast, making you the perfect specimen."

He was attempting flattery. It almost seemed genuine, but Prissayne didn't even notice. She was too hung up on the fact that she was getting a portrait.

"Will I?" She surprised by the news, surprised by what she had learned. "I didn't think that the queens got portraits. You know, considering that they aren't deities." In all of her life, she had never known the High King's wife to actually receive any recognition, any sign or lasting symbol of importance.

Magni scoffed at her comment. "It doesn't take away from the fact that they're still queens."

"Not the High Queen though," Prissayne countered. Her words were meant to be teasing, jokingly antagonistic, but she found herself growing slightly annoyed by her own point. She was going to be a queen. Not the High Queen. No such thing existed.