The Royal Invitation
Chapter 2
Alex’s POV:
I brushed the tips of my fingers against the banister, walking up the large spiralling staircase to where I recalled the library being. The walls were painted in a deep teal, embellished with golden patterns and trims, signifying the signature colours of the kingdom.
The south corridor in itself was by far the greatest. Having had the King's library and other rooms among it meant that each alcove withheld a painting of the generation from the period. Dating back to 1673, I eventually found myself far enough down the corridor to stop at a certain painting in particular.
A sheepish grin adorned her pink lips, enhancing her lightly tanned complexion whilst her long blonde locks were tied back into a ponytail. Her arms were wrapped tightly around the King's neck whilst he tilted her crown slightly and grinned down at her. I smiled weakly at the two of them, somewhat understanding how she must be feeling.
I pushed through the door beside the alcove, finding myself in the same room I had stumbled into the day before. With tall shelves teeming with books of all kinds and rays of sunlight pouring in, it was a given that this, of all places, would be her hideout.
I strolled through the small walkway separating the books from the main area, eventually finding myself leant against the far bookcase, admiring the scene at hand.
She shuffled around, carefully placing each of her canvases in the far corners of the room out of the way, clearing a floor space in the middle. Her assortment of brushes and paints were soon placed onto the desk in no particular order and she fell down into the large crimson chair, spinning softly as though to contemplate her next move. I smirked as her eyes met with mine, moving from the bookcase to the stool as she continued to stare at me, her eyebrows arched.
"Can I help you, Gaskarth?" Aerowyn asked, her Dalewinian accent shielded by what I recognised to be American. I couldn't help but question her history.
"Nope." I replied; she rolled her eyes, leaning back to the point where she was submerged in the leather material. "But maybe I could help you?..."
She perked up at my remark, glancing at each aspect of my face before trailing her eyes over my body. I felt judged. Her eyes were like sharp needles, poking at each imperfection she found.
"Actually, you can." She stood up, leaning against the desk as she began arranging the colours, occasionally glancing back up at me beneath her eyelashes. I stared back at her–a proud smirk tugging at the corners of her lips as she finally stood up. "I need a body."
"A body? I mean, the one you've got there is just fine." I winked, playing off the dooshe-bag attitude that I had been so flawless with at home–she rolled her eyes again. Clearly not so much here.
"I need a body to paint on. Your body." She declared, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she did. I surveyed the way her thumb caressed the side of her cheek, and for a second, I envied it.
"Okay…"
"So you up for it?" The grin against her lips was enough of a persuasion to say yes. I nodded.
Before I arrived I had been warned, particularly because of my history, that I had to be on my best behaviour. 'The princess is a lady', Garry insisted. Never did I ever have stripping down into my boxers for her to paint on me in the agenda. This girl before me was far from what I had been told. She was human.
Before long I was seated again, my exposed legs pressing against the cold surface of the wooden stool. I rubbed the back of my neck instinctively, watching as she began mixing the colours she wanted.
The first stroke was strange. The bristles brushed delicately against my skin leaving a trail of gooey substance behind. I looked up at Aerowyn, though she was too occupied with her art to notice. I watched the way her eyebrow raised when she questioned the direction the brush moved, and the way the tip of her tongue stuck out of the end of her mouth as she concentrated on the task at hand. I chuckled lightly, breathing in as she gripped my wrist in order to keep my arm still. Her touch was gentle and caressing, her fingers soft against my skin.
"Do you do this a lot? " I asked, keeping my eye on the brush strokes as I attempted to break the silence engulfing us.
"Not the way I used to." She replied vaguely.
"How so?" Part of me knew I was breaking the rules and overstepping the boundaries by pushing for an answer, but I was literally sat in my underwear–the line was crossed a long time ago.
"Long story short, I'm an art student and so my artwork tends to be less courageous and more... simplistic, for it's time limits." I nodded, understanding the time pressure that comes with making art. Occasionally the studio would ask for another song and want it in by the next day, so it tended to be random and extremely stereotypical as far as lyrics were concerned.
"Well I thin-" I trailed off, staring down at her hand as it pressed against my chest. In the process of a short conversation she had finished the basis of my arm, eventually trailing up to my shoulder.
"You think what?" She mumbled smugly, the side of her cheek arching as she tried to hide her smirk. I gulped, noting that she was reading my body just as much as I was trying to hide it.
"I think that as soon as you graduate and get away from the restrictions of school, you'll have more of an opportunity to create art like this. Art that you love." Saved it.
Silence engulfed us once more, the heavy breathing and movement of bristles being the only sound emanating from the room.
Within an hour she had completed my chest and arm, deciding she'd do it in segments and just piece it together when complete. I stood in front of the bookcase, trying out some of the many poses I had learned from all the photoshoots I'd attended. I guess being in a band has its perks after all.
I pulled my shirt over the now dry and crumbling paint, fastening the buttons as I looked over at Aerowyn beneath my lashes. She was shuffling around again, returning everything back to its original position–the art supplies returning back to draw.
She fell down into the crimson chair, spinning slowly as her laptop began to load. Inserting the memory stick from the camera into the laptop, she glanced over the screen, smiling weakly as her eyes caught mine.
"Want to see the pictures?" Her voice was warm and soothing. A feeling of relief washed over me as she actually spoke, beckoning me over to the screen. I crouched down beside her, admiring the art she had created with nothing but paints and my skin.
"They're amazing. You're amazing." I stuttered, peering over at Aerowyn as her cheeks burned a blush red. I smiled smugly, turning back to the pictures as she scrolled through.
"I like that one," she pointed to one picture in particular. I was stood in front of the bookcase, officially getting bored of the shoot, so I pulled the funniest face achievable. I just happened to make even Aerowyn laugh in the process.
"It's a shame I didn't steal the camera. I'm an expert as far as photography goes." I added smugly, grinning over at Aerowyn as she rolled her eyes.
"Your so pompous." She moaned, smiling playfully. It was just like the portrait–young, curious and full of innocence.
"I do try." I winked, smirking as I stood up from my crouched position beside her. She spun to face me, staring up at my towering figure. "I should go and get cleaned up in time for dinner."
"Of course," she nodded understandingly. It was around an hour before everyone was expected downstairs for dinner, including myself seen as though there was lot's to discuss with Gary and the king.
"Goodbye, Princess." I added, attempting to read the emotion hidden behind the facade. Nothing.
"Goodbye, Alex."
I turned on my heel, heading though the small hallway and out of the large doors. I hurried along to the west wing, bee-lining for my room in a rush to get cleaned up. I wasn't usually this eager to attend formal events like this one, but it meant seeing Aerowyn again. It was about time I got a taste of the princess they were all talking about.
I brushed the tips of my fingers against the banister, walking up the large spiralling staircase to where I recalled the library being. The walls were painted in a deep teal, embellished with golden patterns and trims, signifying the signature colours of the kingdom.
The south corridor in itself was by far the greatest. Having had the King's library and other rooms among it meant that each alcove withheld a painting of the generation from the period. Dating back to 1673, I eventually found myself far enough down the corridor to stop at a certain painting in particular.
A sheepish grin adorned her pink lips, enhancing her lightly tanned complexion whilst her long blonde locks were tied back into a ponytail. Her arms were wrapped tightly around the King's neck whilst he tilted her crown slightly and grinned down at her. I smiled weakly at the two of them, somewhat understanding how she must be feeling.
I pushed through the door beside the alcove, finding myself in the same room I had stumbled into the day before. With tall shelves teeming with books of all kinds and rays of sunlight pouring in, it was a given that this, of all places, would be her hideout.
I strolled through the small walkway separating the books from the main area, eventually finding myself leant against the far bookcase, admiring the scene at hand.
She shuffled around, carefully placing each of her canvases in the far corners of the room out of the way, clearing a floor space in the middle. Her assortment of brushes and paints were soon placed onto the desk in no particular order and she fell down into the large crimson chair, spinning softly as though to contemplate her next move. I smirked as her eyes met with mine, moving from the bookcase to the stool as she continued to stare at me, her eyebrows arched.
"Can I help you, Gaskarth?" Aerowyn asked, her Dalewinian accent shielded by what I recognised to be American. I couldn't help but question her history.
"Nope." I replied; she rolled her eyes, leaning back to the point where she was submerged in the leather material. "But maybe I could help you?..."
She perked up at my remark, glancing at each aspect of my face before trailing her eyes over my body. I felt judged. Her eyes were like sharp needles, poking at each imperfection she found.
"Actually, you can." She stood up, leaning against the desk as she began arranging the colours, occasionally glancing back up at me beneath her eyelashes. I stared back at her–a proud smirk tugging at the corners of her lips as she finally stood up. "I need a body."
"A body? I mean, the one you've got there is just fine." I winked, playing off the dooshe-bag attitude that I had been so flawless with at home–she rolled her eyes again. Clearly not so much here.
"I need a body to paint on. Your body." She declared, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she did. I surveyed the way her thumb caressed the side of her cheek, and for a second, I envied it.
"Okay…"
"So you up for it?" The grin against her lips was enough of a persuasion to say yes. I nodded.
Before I arrived I had been warned, particularly because of my history, that I had to be on my best behaviour. 'The princess is a lady', Garry insisted. Never did I ever have stripping down into my boxers for her to paint on me in the agenda. This girl before me was far from what I had been told. She was human.
Before long I was seated again, my exposed legs pressing against the cold surface of the wooden stool. I rubbed the back of my neck instinctively, watching as she began mixing the colours she wanted.
The first stroke was strange. The bristles brushed delicately against my skin leaving a trail of gooey substance behind. I looked up at Aerowyn, though she was too occupied with her art to notice. I watched the way her eyebrow raised when she questioned the direction the brush moved, and the way the tip of her tongue stuck out of the end of her mouth as she concentrated on the task at hand. I chuckled lightly, breathing in as she gripped my wrist in order to keep my arm still. Her touch was gentle and caressing, her fingers soft against my skin.
"Do you do this a lot? " I asked, keeping my eye on the brush strokes as I attempted to break the silence engulfing us.
"Not the way I used to." She replied vaguely.
"How so?" Part of me knew I was breaking the rules and overstepping the boundaries by pushing for an answer, but I was literally sat in my underwear–the line was crossed a long time ago.
"Long story short, I'm an art student and so my artwork tends to be less courageous and more... simplistic, for it's time limits." I nodded, understanding the time pressure that comes with making art. Occasionally the studio would ask for another song and want it in by the next day, so it tended to be random and extremely stereotypical as far as lyrics were concerned.
"Well I thin-" I trailed off, staring down at her hand as it pressed against my chest. In the process of a short conversation she had finished the basis of my arm, eventually trailing up to my shoulder.
"You think what?" She mumbled smugly, the side of her cheek arching as she tried to hide her smirk. I gulped, noting that she was reading my body just as much as I was trying to hide it.
"I think that as soon as you graduate and get away from the restrictions of school, you'll have more of an opportunity to create art like this. Art that you love." Saved it.
Silence engulfed us once more, the heavy breathing and movement of bristles being the only sound emanating from the room.
Within an hour she had completed my chest and arm, deciding she'd do it in segments and just piece it together when complete. I stood in front of the bookcase, trying out some of the many poses I had learned from all the photoshoots I'd attended. I guess being in a band has its perks after all.
I pulled my shirt over the now dry and crumbling paint, fastening the buttons as I looked over at Aerowyn beneath my lashes. She was shuffling around again, returning everything back to its original position–the art supplies returning back to draw.
She fell down into the crimson chair, spinning slowly as her laptop began to load. Inserting the memory stick from the camera into the laptop, she glanced over the screen, smiling weakly as her eyes caught mine.
"Want to see the pictures?" Her voice was warm and soothing. A feeling of relief washed over me as she actually spoke, beckoning me over to the screen. I crouched down beside her, admiring the art she had created with nothing but paints and my skin.
"They're amazing. You're amazing." I stuttered, peering over at Aerowyn as her cheeks burned a blush red. I smiled smugly, turning back to the pictures as she scrolled through.
"I like that one," she pointed to one picture in particular. I was stood in front of the bookcase, officially getting bored of the shoot, so I pulled the funniest face achievable. I just happened to make even Aerowyn laugh in the process.
"It's a shame I didn't steal the camera. I'm an expert as far as photography goes." I added smugly, grinning over at Aerowyn as she rolled her eyes.
"Your so pompous." She moaned, smiling playfully. It was just like the portrait–young, curious and full of innocence.
"I do try." I winked, smirking as I stood up from my crouched position beside her. She spun to face me, staring up at my towering figure. "I should go and get cleaned up in time for dinner."
"Of course," she nodded understandingly. It was around an hour before everyone was expected downstairs for dinner, including myself seen as though there was lot's to discuss with Gary and the king.
"Goodbye, Princess." I added, attempting to read the emotion hidden behind the facade. Nothing.
"Goodbye, Alex."
I turned on my heel, heading though the small hallway and out of the large doors. I hurried along to the west wing, bee-lining for my room in a rush to get cleaned up. I wasn't usually this eager to attend formal events like this one, but it meant seeing Aerowyn again. It was about time I got a taste of the princess they were all talking about.
