![]() ![]() Outwardly, my face ached with the polite smile I’d maintained for the past two and a half hours. “What do you think? You could add that, couldn’t you?” “I might have some silver embroidery done about the wrists,” he said. All in all, it was a disarming quality for a creature who could murder me without rescheduling his tea. He was astonishingly vain even by fair folk standards, which is like saying a pond is unusually wet, or a bear surprisingly hairy. ![]() Oil paint needs days to dry between layers, and he had trouble understanding I couldn’t just swap his entire outfit for another he liked better. The trick with Gadfly was persuading him to wear the same clothes for every session. I had nearly perfected the color of Gadfly’s silk jacket. MY PARLOR smelled of linseed oil and spike lavender, and a dab of lead tin yellow glistened on my canvas. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |