Chapter 122 – The Best Days of My Life

The elf finished the last stroke, drew her brush back, and leaned in a little to examine her work. Then she smiled.

The color had turned out exactly how she wanted.

She looked at the brush between her fingers again, slowly turned it, and ran her thumb along the handle. It was light, comfortable, and responded to her hand movements with a precision she was starting to like a little too much.

Her own supplies were sitting in a box on the table.

She hadn't forgotten about them.

She just hadn't thought about them for a little while.

"Would you like me to bring you anything else?"

The painter looked up at the maid waiting nearby. Then she glanced at the empty plate she had left beside the easel.

"Could I have another serving of what you brought earlier?"

"Of course."

"And something to drink."

"The same drink?"

The elf nodded, and the maid left without asking any more questions.

For a few seconds, the painter stared at the door the woman had walked through.

This was dangerous.

Very dangerous.

She was getting used to it far too quickly.

Her room was spacious, with a bed she could stretch out in without worrying about reaching the edge and several armchairs that seemed designed to make her never want to get up again.

On top of that, there were maids ready to attend to anything she needed.

Food.

Drinks.

Clean water for her brushes.

A cloth before she'd even finished looking for somewhere to wipe her fingers.

And all of it without having to leave the room.

The elf looked around and began calculating how much it would cost to maintain something like this in her own home.

She didn't get very far.

She was the best painter in her kingdom. Her work was sought after by people who could spend more on a single portrait than others would earn in a very long time.

But making good money was one thing.

Paying for all this every single day was something else entirely.

'And that's not even counting the supplies...'

Her gaze returned to the table.

There were excellent inks, brushes of different sizes, paper that felt wonderful to the touch, and surfaces already prepared for painting, so she wouldn't have to waste time fixing little imperfections.

They hadn't simply left her the essentials.

They had given her so much that she was having trouble deciding what to try first.

The night before, she'd told herself she would practice a little before getting some rest. Then she'd found a brush she hadn't tried, wanted to see how one of the inks behaved, and ended up spending part of the early morning in front of the easel.

She had to stay in practice.

She couldn't let her skills slip just because she now had an overly comfortable bed.

Though...

She also wanted to keep trying out the supplies.

The elf carefully set down the brush and stepped away from the table. She walked over to one of the armchairs, sat down, and began tilting her head to one side.

Something soft appeared right where she was about to rest it.

She blinked.

A maid had just placed a pillow between her head and the backrest.

"Is this all right?"

The painter looked at the pillow. Then at the maid.

"Yes... Thank you."

The woman bowed her head and stepped back.

The elf slowly finished settling into her seat.

This wasn't the first time it had happened.

Whenever she sat down to rest, someone seemed to know where she would put her head before she'd even decided herself. If she reached for a cup, someone moved it closer. If she frowned while searching for something among her supplies, a maid was already looking over the table.

'How much would it cost to hire one of them...?'

The question began taking shape in her mind.

Maybe she could take one home with her.

Just one.

She didn't need several people attending to every little movement she made.

Although having two would let one rest while the other...

The elf closed her eyes.

'No. First I need to ask how much they charge.'

She wasn't about to spend the earnings from her next few portraits before she even knew the price.

A cool breeze brushed her face.

She opened one eye and looked at the small square device they had placed in her room.

The window was still closed, and yet the air remained pleasant.

That thing was wonderful.

She didn't have to open anything, wait for the wind to change, or worry about dust getting in while she worked.

The device simply sat there, keeping the room cool.

Her gaze lingered on it for a few more seconds.

'What would it be like to live here as a noble?'

If this was the room they had prepared for a guest, she could hardly imagine the comforts enjoyed by those who belonged to the great houses.

Her kingdom had its luxuries too, of course. She had seen beautiful halls, furniture that had taken years to craft, and decorations that could leave anyone speechless.

But the elven royals were far too traditional.

Sometimes it seemed something had to have been around for centuries before they would consider using it.

The elf looked at the device again.

Personally, she didn't need to wait several centuries to decide she wanted one.

And then there were the taxes.

The pillow stopped feeling quite so comfortable when she remembered that part.

Over fifty-five percent.

More than half of what she earned from her work could go to taxes!

Being a well-known artist didn't give her the privileges of a noble or the advantages available to merchants. After that, she still had to buy supplies, maintain her home, and cover all her other expenses.

Fame was much less impressive when it came time to see how much she actually got to keep.

Here, on the other hand...

She looked around the room.

Lodging, food, supplies.

If she made the most of this year, she could save up a very nice sum.

Maybe she could even keep some of it without her kingdom immediately asking how much she'd earned, where it had come from, and how much of it they were owed.

After all, she had convinced Elyra to extend protection to the elven kingdom for fifty years.

Fifty.

It seemed reasonable to let her enjoy a bit of savings in return.

Though she wasn't so sure the tax collectors would agree.

"Your food."

The elf turned her head.

A tray was set on the table beside her armchair, along with a drink and a folded napkin.

She looked at the food. Then the pillow. Then the device keeping the room cool.

'A year...'

Maybe, once it was over, going home would be harder than she'd thought.

◇◆◇

Hours later, the painter rose from the armchair and stretched her arms.

She had rested, eaten, and gone back to checking her work. Such a perfect, harmonious cycle that she'd become so absorbed she hadn't even heard the explosions caused by the planes.

Now the elf felt like looking at something other than the walls of her room, however pretty they might be.

"Can I go for a walk?"

The maid near the door turned toward her.

"Of course."

"I'd like to look for some inspiration."

"I can accompany you."

The elf smiled and went to pick up a small notebook. As soon as she had it in her hands, another maid approached the table where she'd left her paintings.

"Would you like us to put your work in the preservation cabinet while you're out?"

The painter looked where the woman was pointing. Inside were separate spaces for the pieces, so they wouldn't rub against one another.

"Oh... Yes. Please."

"We'll make sure they're protected."

The elf nodded, held the notebook against her chest, and left the room with her companion.

'By the gods... They're so attentive.'

Now she wanted the cabinet too, and she hadn't even asked how much the maid cost yet.

The elf walked down the hallway, looking at the windows, the decorations, and the subtle shifts in light along the walls. There were several places she would like to draw, though perhaps she could walk a little farther before choosing one.

That was when she heard voices.

Several of them.

And none sounded particularly happy.

"How is it possible that none of us knows where she is?"

The painter turned toward the intersection a few meters ahead.

Six girls dressed as maids were approaching at a brisk pace.

At first, she only looked at their uniforms. Then at their faces. Then she stopped.

'Those are...'

She recognized them.

She had seen them during the celebration.

They were the daughters of the six great families!

The maid accompanying her stopped as well, leaving her some room by the wall as the group reached the intersection.

Rosalind looked down one hallway before turning her attention back to her companions.

"We're in her service. If Princess Matt needs anything right now, not one of us is there to attend to her."

Kaela let out a breath through her nose.

"Because we were fixing the room she ordered us to repair."

"I know."

"All of us," Kaela insisted. "Doing exactly what she asked. And now, apparently, we were also supposed to guess she'd leave without telling anyone."

"I'm not saying we should have abandoned the work," Rosalind replied. "I'm saying we need to know where she is."

Celia looked down the other hallway.

"I heard she went for a walk."

The others turned toward her.

"Who told you?" Virelle asked.

"Some maids were talking about it."

"Did they see her leave?"

Celia hesitated.

"I didn't ask them that."

Kaela closed her eyes for a moment.

"Wonderful."

"If she went for a walk, someone must have seen her," Celia added. "Though... why go out now? Did she go alone? Maybe Miss Noxx..."

"Let's confirm she left first," Virelle interrupted. "Then we can ask who she was with."

Lisette watched the others with a small smile.

"I have to admit, some of you are taking this much more seriously than I expected."

Eris turned toward her.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That doing a bad job seems to bother you more than having to do it in the first place."

"Because if we're going to work as maids, we're going to do it properly."

Lisette raised her eyebrows slightly.

Eris adjusted one of her sleeves before continuing.

"There are already enough people watching us. I'm not giving them a reason to say my house couldn't even train someone to carry out a task."

"Oh. So this isn't your calling."

"I'm not going to make a fool of myself."

"We're dressed as maids," Kaela muttered.

"And we can be dressed as maids without acting completely useless."

The elf tightened her grip on her notebook.

She wasn't sure she should keep watching.

She also wasn't sure she could stop.

Rosalind stepped in again before Lisette could answer.

"Right now, what matters is finding the princess. You can discuss how well the job suits you afterward."

"We weren't talking about how it suits us," Lisette said.

"Well, I do have a few complaints about that," Kaela added.

Virelle raised a hand.

"Enough. We'll ask whoever is in charge of the maids in this area. If Matt has left the castle, we'll check with the guards at the entrances. All six of us walking down the same hallways isn't going to make her appear."

Celia nodded slowly.

"Maybe they'll also know where that story about the walk came from."

"Exactly."

Virelle started down one of the hallways. Rosalind followed immediately, and Eris motioned for the others to get moving.

Kaela was still muttering something about repairing rooms.

Lisette looked far too entertained.

A few seconds later, all six disappeared around a corner.

The painter stood there with her lips slightly parted.

So they had problems too.

She had been imagining how pleasant it would be to belong to one of the great houses, and she'd just watched their daughters arguing over a room they had to repair and a princess they couldn't find.

The elf glanced sideways at the maid accompanying her.

Her uniform was similar.

Her expression, on the other hand, was nothing like theirs.

"Shall we continue?" the woman asked kindly.

"Yes... Yes, of course."

The elf started walking again.

Maybe being a painter was quite nice after all.

Especially as long as no one asked her to repair any rooms.

Still, the name she'd heard kept circling in her mind.

Matt.

There were far too many strange things about that princess.

According to some rumors, the princess had originally been a human boy. A boy Elyra had turned into a female vampire and brought to the kingdom.

But other versions claimed Matt had later managed to become a boy again.

And then there was Iris.

The elf remembered the princess during the portrait session. She had praised the elf's work, yes, but there had been nothing particularly relaxed about the way she'd looked at Matt and Noxx.

That carefully maintained smile.

The tension around her eyes.

As a painter, she was used to noticing those things.

Then she remembered Noxx sitting on Matt's lap, trying to hide a smile.

The three of them looked incredibly alike.

Too much alike, even considering they belonged to the same family.

The elf lowered her gaze to her notebook.

A boy turned into a girl.

A supposed return to his old body.

Iris.

Noxx.

She had heard several versions, but none quite explained how it all fit together.

And, of course, she wasn't about to approach the queen and ask.

She still remembered how close she had come to saying the wrong thing during the celebration.

She had a comfortable room, excellent supplies, and food that arrived whenever she asked for it.

She would like to keep all of that.

The elf sighed and continued walking beside the maid, though she was paying less attention to the decorations now.

A different kind of inspiration was occupying her thoughts.

'When will the princesses ask me for another portrait...?'

She hoped it would be soon.

There had been so much left for her to observe during that last portrait session.