Free Web NovelChapter 65: The Moon Through Another’s Eyes
Chapter 64: The Moon Through Another’s Eyes
Lyria’s POV
"I have painted the Princess as the sky, and all who dwell beneath her—noble and common alike—are caught within it. They move, drift, and act in accordance with the direction she guides them. Even the light, the sun, is subject to her grace," Earl Hawthorne said.
I lifted an eyebrow slightly. That was... unexpectedly poetic. Not the flourish of someone attempting to impress the court, but an honesty that shone through the abstraction. freёweɓnovel.com
The Queen studied him, tilting her head as though weighing each word carefully. "And the yellow drops, Earl? They are...?"
"Stars, Your Majesty, though also sunbeams," he replied quickly, a slight tremor in his voice as he gestured toward the scattered flecks on the canvas. "Because she is the sky, the sun can perform its task. But it does so only in her presence. Her will, her influence, allows the light to shine as it ought. Were she absent, the sky would lack purpose. Even the sun requires her direction."
I nodded subtly. The simplicity of the explanation belied its elegance. There was a certain clarity to it—pure, sincere, and entirely unpretentious. It worked. The thought that the Princess could command the very skies in his mind was quite remarkable.
The Queen paused for a long moment, her eyes tracing the deliberate arrangement of color and space. "I find myself unable to argue with such an interpretation," she said finally. "It is... unorthodox, yet it has merit." fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com
The Earl’s shoulders relaxed, a small smile breaking through the tension that had marred his posture for the better part of the competition. "Your approval honors me, Your Majesty."
"And pray tell, sir," the Queen added, a faint amusement threading her voice, "what inspired this depiction?"
The Earl’s expression softened, eyes flicking toward the assembled nobles as if in apology for his earlier timidity. "My youngest sister, Your Majesty. She... enjoys painting herself, though not with the skill I have attempted to achieve. Her enthusiasm and unrestrained imagination gave me the idea to depict Her Highness as the guiding sky."
The Queen raised a delicate brow, a smile tugging at her lips. "How quaint," she said softly. "A family of not just soldiers but painters. Quite charming indeed." She inclined her head and gestured lightly. "You may step aside, Earl Hawthorne. Your diligence is noted."
The Earl bowed deeply, retreating to his position with a newfound lightness to his step. He walked with the kind of quiet satisfaction reserved for those who have quietly triumphed in a manner entirely unobserved by most.
I allowed myself a small nod of acknowledgment. His interpretation had been surprisingly thoughtful, and it was certainly more cohesive than some of the other displays of talent I had endured this morning.
Yet, as the next group was called, my attention shifted almost involuntarily. The Barons were being summoned now, and I could not help but notice the conspicuous absence of the Duke of Blackmere. Not a single summons had reached him, yet he remained standing serene and immovable as a statue. Hands clasped behind his back, posture unyielding, he gave no sign of annoyance, of impatience, or even curiosity. It was almost infuriating, the way he could remain so unbothered by the passage of time and the attention lavished upon every other nobleman except him, especially those lower in standing.
I had barely processed this when the footman called the next name. "Baron Julian Redwick of Stoneford."
I turned sharply, every fiber of my body alert. The Baron’s painting—his careful, deliberate, and exquisitely executed work—was the most beautiful I had yet observed. It shared similarities with Lucian’s garden painting but possessed a depth, a sense of life and narrative, that made it somehow more compelling, more intimate.
The servant lifted the canvas with the reverent care one might afford a relic, holding it upright as the Baron adjusted his spectacles with meticulous composure.
The painting revealed a woman—her back to the assembly—standing in a lush garden. The gown she wore was embroidered with delicate representations of the moon’s phases, each curve and line rendered with painstaking care. Stars, bright and subtle alike, adorned her arms. Small animals nestled upon her shoulders; rabbits and squirrels peered curiously from beneath trees, while wolves of varying shades walked beside her with respectful deference. In one hand, she held offerings of food, and birds gathered eagerly, eating from it.
The sky behind her was painted as midnight, a rich, deep shade that made the moon’s fullness heighten the woman’s elegance. Golden hair cascaded in the wind, and the flowers around her were drawn with painstaking accuracy, each bloom seeming to unfold naturally in accordance with the season and the garden’s subtle fertility.
I, along with the rest of the courtyard, found myself entirely captivated. The silence that fell over the assembly was remarkable in its completeness. Even the murmurs of appreciation that had accompanied earlier displays seemed to vanish entirely. The Queen herself appeared momentarily at a loss for words, her usual composure replaced with thoughtful consideration.
"Your Majesties," the Baron said, voice carefully measured, "I wish to explain... how this is how the Moon of the Kingdom is seen through my eyes."
All heads turned to him, including mine. "She is not merely the moon," he continued, voice steadying as he gained confidence, "but a mother to all who dwell within the realm. She embodies calm, wisdom, and quiet authority. From the smallest animal to the grandest wolf, all are drawn to her presence. The night magnifies her beauty; she requires nothing beyond her mere existence to command the attention of those around her."
He paused, letting the words settle. "She only needs to extend her hand to nourish those she protects. She only needs to walk, and the land flourishes in her wake. Flowers bloom beneath her steps, grass grows taller, fertile and alive. Her presence is a sanctuary. Her beauty is untold, her essence revered... This is how I see the Moon of the Kingdom, known as the Princess."
The courtyard remained in near-reverent silence for a moment longer, the collective weight of the Baron’s words settling upon the gathered nobles. I could not suppress a quiet exhalation of admiration... the Baron was even a better artist than I was. I could not help but feel a pang of jealousy.
