Lizzie of the North (Yrsoreth Chronicles 2)

52◦❀◦Secrets of the Portrait Hall

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

That night, Lizzie dined with Diana alone. The consort had specifically emphasized that it was 'Ladies night' and men had nothing to do with it. 

They then proceeded to the portrait hall, and Lizzie was brought to memory lane with paintings throughout the years. For the Gran Dacchian monarchs, the painting of the imperial family rarely circulates to the public. Despite that, they do take portraits annually as imperial records.

Like any doting mother, Diana showed portraits of her son one year after another. There were as many paintings of the future empress as Alec, and some of the emperor and the imperial family in one frame too.

Lizzie giggled at Alec's portraits and the story behind them, retold by Diana. Until finally, they reached the life-sized painting of the emperor sitting on his throne.

The closer she stared, the more Lizzie could find no similarity to the late king in a small portrait on the other side of the room. It had the picture of the previous queen and a blond-haired prince, along with the previous monarchs. Aside from the blond hair of the previous king, there was nothing else. Alec might have lied about the emperor's bloodline, but now she was convinced.

She was brought back to that afternoon he told her about Alexander's secret. The emperor's contribution solidified his position. It was his. He built the empire. Yet, this secret could also shatter one of his foundations.

And Alec kissed me that time too—Lizzie slapped herself. She blinked fast as if she could to release the fever crawling up her face and calm the growing beat of her heart. Thankfully, Diana was eyeing the painting to notice.

"Some say that Alexander did not resemble the previous king. What do you think?"

Lizzie turned to the consort, who was already boring eyes on her. "...They don't look alike at all, not a little bit," she answered vaguely.

"It's the same answer with Devanti too, years ago," was also Diana's vague reply.

According to Alec, there are only five people including her that knew of the truth. The emperor himself, Diana, Alec, Lizzie... and... maybe Devanti. "...What do you think, Lady Diana?"

The other smiled as gently as always, but it conveyed everything that she needed to know. "Not a little bit."

They examined more paintings, and Lizzie grinned at one when Alec was frowning as if glaring at the painter. It was taken in his first year of being declared as the crown prince. Finally, they reached the end of another wall, only for another door to catch her attention.

"Are you curious?" Diana asked.

"Mildly."

The future empress took out a key from the pocket of her gown and opened the door. "Don't tell him you know the secret of the portrait hall." She motioned Lizzie to enter.

The young Norvillon's tracks froze by the smaller door compared to the other one, but it also had a high ceiling. The big window showed the vast view of the sky.

It was not the disorder nor the colorful splatters of paint on the floor and the walls that surprised her, but the beautiful canvases in varied sizes—with her face.

The paintings they had done this afternoon were neatly placed in the corner and the only atrocity in the room of art. Of course, there were images of others, like Diana's, or the emperor's reliable figure on horseback. There was also a picture of Lilias and Morning Screamers in one vase. But most of them were Lizzie's face in monotone or full vivid colors. 

There was her face while smiling, frowning and asleep. There were paintings where she was dressed formally and in her sleepwear with wild hair.

Most of them were younger versions of herself as if they were the only ones etched into memory and materialized so as not to be forgotten.

She faced the future empress, with an expression she could not recognize herself. Maybe she was embarrassed, shocked or both. Or maybe she looked like she was about to cry.

"He was so upset back then when he couldn't see you," Diana explained from the door. "It took a long time for him to forgive Alexander. One of his idiot father's ways for amendment is this. He asked for a mentor to teach Alec how to paint, to remember you. And I guess, the wedding invitation was his other way to close loose ends. I apologize for Alexander's rash method back then, he meant well."

Lizzie did not answer, or maybe, she could not grasp everything about Alec.

That punk duped me and pretended to lose.

She bit her lip to stop a smile.

He never forgot. There were no letters whatsoever, but he never forgot.

Even though they were already out of the portrait hall and Lizzie was sent to her room for the night, behind the emperor's palace, her chest felt pained from beating too loud.

The maids helped her bathe, and she was changed into a nightgown and finally in bed, but the princess could not sleep.

She couldn't understand—him and even herself.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the knock on her window and Alec was waving from the outside.

Speaking of the devil.

She got up and stared at him, sorting her confusion.

Why does he annoy her in a way? Why do the two moons reflect on his hair like they had their own light?

Why is this punk climbing up my room at this gods forsaken hour?

Lizzie opened the window and asked him the same question. "I heard you and mother entered the portrait hall," he said instead.

"We did."

"Did you see them?"

"What?"

"The portraits."

"It's called the 'portrait hall' for a reason," sarcasm dripped in her voice. "And yes, we did... you looked funny."

"And?"

She knew what was he referring to, but the lady chose not to address the question. It felt like it will lead to more uncomfortable questions and her mind was already in a jumble for it. So she tilted her head. "I saw the imperial family portraits, of course. Should I be seeing something else?"

He didn't answer. Lizzie stared back at the intruder, her hand in her hips, shifting her weight on the other foot. "Anyway, since you're already here, might as well, let me tell you my request from the painting contest."

"What is it?"

She has thought of things difficult enough to make him sweat. But for a moment, she didn't like his brows knit in possibilities of unreasonable commands, at the same time want's him confused and bothered like she is.

They should both be confused, and that's justice.

So Lizzie commanded Alec the sneaking crown prince, "Braid my hair."

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-