Vivi’s bedchamber in the palace was so simple and unadorned you would never have guessed it belonged to a princess. She had an ordinary bed with no canopy over it and plain linen curtains on the windows. About the only decoration she had was a small bouquet of fresh flowers in a vase. There were no massive chandeliers or deluxe wardrobes, as you’d expect in a princess’s chambers, and yet this room was consistently the most glamorous and lively room in the palace, for the simple reason that Vivi was there.
Terracotta, the palace steward, had asked a maid to bring up a pot of tea, but the maid hesitated outside the room for a moment, peering through a crack in the door. She could see Vivi sitting at her desk, her hair falling down her back, the dark blue of a deep spring on a moonlit night. Her hair naturally curled at the ends and fluttered softly in the breeze from the window. From her slender shoulders to her tiny waist, every part of her figure was fragile and feminine.
“Princess, I’ve brought your tea,” the maid said from the hallway. Vivi spun around, turning her eyes—which were as round and black as an ermine’s—toward the maid.
“Thank you,” she said. “Would you set it down over there?”
The maid bowed and set the teapot down on the table Vivi had indicated. She realized the scent of the tea wafting up through the tea cozy was the same type of tea she herself always drank. Vivi was royalty, and one would have expected she’d drink fancier stuff, but like her father, this princess refused to pamper or indulge herself.
Her desk was covered with back issues of a periodical, the World Economic News, and old history books. She was surely studying up on world history and politics for the upcoming Reverie. Alabasta’s peace and prosperity were vitally connected to Princess Vivi’s ability to forge constructive ties with the leaders of other countries. Despite her frail and delicate appearance, her love for her kingdom was fierce and powerful.
In truth, Vivi’s mind was almost constantly occupied by thoughts about her homeland; she rarely focused on anything else. Born into a royal family, she could easily have afforded to relax and distract herself with luxuries from time to time instead. That’s what I would do, anyway, the maid thought wryly, silently withdrawing toward the door.
She was about to leave the room when she stopped for a moment. On the wall next to the door, there was a strange new painting she hadn’t seen before.
What is that? she wondered.
“Bad” didn’t even begin to describe it. The picture looked like a collection of camel eyelashes arranged in a haphazard mess. It was impossible to know what it was supposed to depict.
“Your Highness, what is this?” the maid asked.
Vivi turned around, delighted. “Oh, that? It’s a portrait of me. One of the children in town drew it for me.”
“Huh?” The maid was quizzical. That’s supposed to be a face?!
Now that she looked at it again, the wobbly outline did seem to just barely represent a human face. The two warped circles were probably eyes. The curves growing out of the shoulders kind of looked like ears… Or were they arms? Or legs?
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Vivi enthused. “I find it quite avant-garde.”
“Yes, quite…” The maid leaned closer, trying to get a better look at it. Hmmm. Maybe Karoo would have done a better job.