“They didn’t seem to be in my eyes,” Hardin replied. “I’ve never heard of a disaster befalling anyone whose shadow I’ve seen. In fact, most of these people have been blessed with good fortune and prosperity.”
“I see.” Despite the curt response, his relief was apparent on his face. Suddenly, he was struck with an idea: “The adult woman you saw might have been our mother. Perhaps she’s watching over her.”
“I don’t think that’s the case. She seemed too young for that.”
“So, not that...” Alexei sounded disappointed.
Hardin smiled. “When I speak of the shadows, people usually laugh at me or scorn me. I’m thankful you believe me, Your Grace.”
“So much strangeness has happened around her. You could say I’m used to it,” Alexei said with a laugh. “You may not believe it, but she’s met several gods and a legendary dragon in our duchy. Who was it that said this sounds like a story out of an ancient myth again?” the young duke mused.
“I-I’m sorry?” Hardin was at a loss for words. After a few moments, seriousness replaced shock on his face, and he said quietly, “I’m sorry I can’t fulfill your second request, regarding your mother. I can’t paint someone I’ve never met in person before.”
“Don’t concern yourself with it. I have no intention to force you to paint if you say you can’t. The arts are complex, are they not?” There was a hint of cynicism in his voice, but it was aimed at himself—a mockery for the man that he was, utterly unable to comprehend art.
Alexei had once taken Ekaterina to see the impressive collection of the Sun Sanctuary, but he’d only done so because he’d assumed Ekaterina might like it. He had no personal interest in it whatsoever. While he did think some objects were nice-looking, he didn’t understand the people who lost themselves in them. The only art he sometimes sought of his own volition was poetry. But it wasn’t because he liked the lines themselves; he simply used them to verify that the pain of loss still lingered in his heart.
Alexei shook his head, putting these feelings away. “I’m having another likeness of our mother made—a statue, not a painting. It should be ready before December.”
To be perfectly accurate, the piece would be a likeness of the Goddess of the Night he and Ekaterina had seen at the Sun Sanctuary. When Alexei had laid eyes upon it, he’d immediately thought it resembled Ekaterina. His sister, however, had seen their mother in it, and her eyes had filled with emotion. From that day onward, the goddess’s image had become a memento of their mother for the siblings.
Alexei had allowed the sculptor to sketch Ekaterina—the living likeness of their mother—so that the statue would resemble their mother as much as possible. Wooden statues usually took at least two months to craft, but the pose was difficult and the coloring had to be incredibly precise to reach Alexei’s standards, so the sculptor had asked for much more time than that. Hopefully, the statue would be that much more beautiful.
There were no paintings of Anastasia in the Yulnova residence. There had once been a few—although Alexei remembered them very hazily—but Alexandra had burned them all after Sergei’s death. The honor and glory that should have naturally belonged to Anastasia as a duchess had all been stolen from her, leaving her to live a life of misfortune. Perhaps that was why Alexei wanted Ekaterina, his dear sister who looked so much like their mother, to have everything in the world—honor, glory, happiness. He would give them all to her.
But Ekaterina only ever tried to give to others, not take.
Your happiness is my happiness, she’d so often tell him.
“Master Hardin, besides what we discussed already, I’d like you to paint another portrait of her. One in which she smiles happily. Could you do that?”
“It’d be my pleasure. I’ll do everything I can to reproduce her beauty on my canvas. I believe her ladyship would love a painting of the two of you, Your Grace. If you were to sit together, I’d surely be able to capture her happiest smile.”
Alexei was caught off guard by his guest’s suggestion, and his eyes widened in surprise. He felt a little embarrassed, but he nodded anyway. “I don’t like to be drawn...but I’ll do it if it makes her happy. I’ve sworn to give her anything she desires.”
The following morning, Alexei joined Ekaterina at the breakfast table after his training with a large bouquet in hand.
“It’s beautiful!” Ekaterina exclaimed, overjoyed. “But why the sudden gesture, brother? Is today a special day?”
“No, today is just a day like any other, an unremarkable day that I get to spend in your company. I’ve just come to realize yet again that there is nothing as precious as such days.”
“Goodness...” Ekaterina looked overjoyed as Alexei put the bouquet into her hands. It was so large that her arms were filled with flowers. Ekaterina’s pale porcelain face threatened to disappear under the sea of colorful fall roses.
“I haven’t given you flowers often,” Alexei said. “It felt a little foolish to offer them to you when you’re more beautiful than any blossom could ever be. But I should have done it earlier if it makes you so happy. I’m sorry, Ekaterina.”
Ekaterina’s usual reply to Alexei’s flowery declarations left her lips: “Oh, brother!” She smiled. “Any present from you makes me happy, you know. Speaking of which, I take good care of the Silver-Branched Great Stag antlers you gave me.” Her eyes gleamed as though she’d suddenly come up with a great idea. “I shall decorate them with these flowers today. The great stag these antlers belonged to must have led its herd to eat many different flowers in the forest of the duchy over the seasons. Perhaps it’ll appreciate the company of the flowers. I hope they’ll provide some comfort to its soul.”
Alexei chuckled. “You’re too kind, concerning yourself with the well-being of a stag’s soul.”
Ekaterina pouted. “I spent some time thinking about Silver-Branched Great Stags, and I’ve come to think they resemble you somewhat, brother. They’re proud, beautiful creatures who bear an ever-growing weight to protect their herd. This one might resent you for killing it, so I treat it with respect in the hope of soothing its regrets.”
“I see...” Alexei wrapped his arms around his sister—and her large bouquet. “I love you, my sweet Ekaterina.”
She always worried about him.
From the day they’d started living side by side, Alexei had felt as though his life had blossomed with colorful roses that lit up his world.
Will Ekaterina like my gift? he wondered. Can I give her as much happiness as she’s given me?
Surrounded by the fragrance of roses, Alexei hugged his beloved sister in his arms, praying over and over again: Please, may she be happy.