The King's Artist

Ch 13: The Raging Storm

The weather was harsher than it had been in years. Since the middle of September, rain and winds had bombarded the castle of Suscinio forcing individuals to remain indoors. Trees were uprooted and thrown across fields while fences crumbed and unraveled from their perimeter. A few of the weaker homes even caved in. Gathering food and water was a task met with frustration and hesitation by many, as was feeding the cattle and caring for the horses. Many of the castle guards fell ill, too, while guarding long hours in the rain. The strength of security for Henry and his uncle had dropped nearly in half since the storm clouds rolled in.

Despite the shared misery, however, no one was more miserable than Henry. As always, the young, growing man felt trapped within the walls of his own home. His concerns were divided between those for his ailing men and the people, and for himself and his aching need to be outside.

"When do you think the weather will stop?" Henry asked out loud to Adelaide who sat comfortably by a crackling fire with a sketchbook on her lap. Her hand lazily retraced the outline of Henry that she had drawn early before lifting her eyes to stare at his back. He stood by one of the tall windows staring longingly at the black sky. It wasn't even possible to see over the wall to the fields beyond because of the rain, so Adelaide questioned what he was looking at.

"Probably soon, " she remarked lightly. "It is almost November. It would be rather ridiculous for this weather to carry on for longer than two months."

"The weather already is ridiculous, Arthur, " Henry shouted in irritation. Accustomed to his random outbursts, Adelaide didn't flinch at the raised tone of voice. Instead, she sighed loudly and returned to her sketch focusing now on the curve of picture Henry's frame. Groaning at himself, Henry pulled himself away from the window and came to sit beside Adelaide. Quickly flipping the page of her sketchbook at his approach, Adelaide focused on the picture she had drawn earlier of the fireplace and hastily sketched several depictions of flames onto the page. Henry rounded around the sofa and leaned over Adelaide's shoulder to observe her drawing. As usual, Henry audibly expressed his opinion to whatever she drew and was her most honest critique. "For having been drawing this for the last hour, it's not very good."

Had it been anyone else, Adelaide might have been offended but she merrily laughed. It wasn't like she could reveal the dozen of pictures she had crafted of him while he had brooded around the room. Henry shook his head and took a seat on the couch opposite of Adelaide propping his feet up and leaning back with a groan. Flipping to a new page, Adelaide instinctively began drawing him.

"It's strange though, you know," Henry commented. "It's been a while since we've heard anything from the Duke. He usually sends a messenger once a month to see how we are, but we haven't heard from him since August."

"It is possible the messenger just got lost in the storm," Adelaide noted. "The storm could have started earlier where they reside." Henry contemplated the notion but didn't seem satisfied. "What does your uncle say about it?"

"That I'm worrying needlessly and that a grown man should be able to reside on his own without being observed and babysat by others." Adelaide looked up curiously at the bitterness in Henry's voice. It was unusual for Henry and his uncle to not get along. The two were usually always on the same page. Them arguing and having differing opinions was a new sight for Adelaide.

"Why would he say that?" Adelaide questioned, shutting her sketchbook and placing it on her lap. With her full attention on Henry, she felt the usual skip in her chest when they made eye contact. With the firelight bouncing off his face, Henry's eyes were fiercer than usual and the curve of his jaw and cheeks distinct and sharp. He was unbelievably handsome, and Adelaide's felt herself flush.

"He thinks I'm relying too heavily on the Duke and that I've become too comfortable here. I think he believes I no longer wish to return home. That my focus has shifted away from claiming back England," the pain in Henry's voice was notable as the muscles in his jaw tightened. He leaned forward onto his knees and knitted his fingers together. His knuckles were white and his brow furrowed. It seemed even the mere mention of not returning to England was painful for him.

"Well," Adelaide said, also leaning forward, "have you begun to rely to heavily on the Duke?"

Henry's eyes shot up and he glared daggers at Adelaide and her simple question.

"No, I have not," he shouted, abruptly standing up. "I rely on the Duke to relay information to me regarding the English king and that is all! If I had the troops and the means, I would storm England tomorrow and reclaim the land my father died for!"

Henry's voice reverberated around the room in a menacing and harsh tone. Had it been anyone else who he had screamed at, they probably would have flinched and begun repeatedly apologizing until they were forgiven. But this was Arthur Henry had yelled at, his brother and closest confidant. Adelaide had never been scared of Henry's temper, and if she had been, well, their relationship probably wouldn't be what it is.

"Henry," Adelaide said softly. Sighing loudly, Henry sat back down and put his head in his hands as his elbows supported him. "I know you're frustrated, I would be too in your position, but you must trust that God has a plan. You were born to do incredible things, Henry."

Henry raised his head and smiled meekly at Adelaide.

"You're only a year older than me, don't go acting all superior and knowledgeable," Henry jokingly stated. Adelaide laughed loudly and stood up.

"But I am superior and more knowledgeable," she remarked and began heading towards the door. Henry followed and scoffed loudly at her words.

"Please, you draw pictures better than me, but that's it," Henry said waving away Adelaide's words. Now it was Adelaide's turn to scoff.

"Please," she said with an eye roll. She then started counting things on her fingers while listing the things she was better than Henry at. "I can ride a horse better, I study better, I write better—"

Henry's barking laugh interrupted her.

"You can not ride a horse better than me," he said smirking down at Adelaide.

"I can to," Adelaide retorted.

"You wanna bet?" Henry baited. Both stopped walking and stared challengingly at one another. Adelaide stuck her hand out with a competitive glint in her eyes. Henry gripped it tightly and they shook once firmly.

"Prepare to lose," Adelaide said still gripping Henry's hand.

"You took the words right out of my mouth," he replied.