For years, Evelina had visited this shop in hopes of finding a painting that depicted a particular location. Every time she went in, she prayed to Eurydice this was the time she finally found it. Though the owner, Clara, tried to refuse her money, she still bought something each time she came.
“Queen Evelina,” a light voice gasped. “An honor.”
Evelina blinked away the haze in her mind and fell into an easy smile on instinct. She nodded. “Morning, Clara. Any new pieces today?”
Clara beamed at the question. Her strawberry-colored hair was braided behind her back, and the light freckles covering her face had darkened with the summer sun.
“A few just arrived—haven’t even unpacked them in the back yet.” Clara gestured for Evelina to follow as she pushed open an aqua-colored door, revealing a dimly lit room full of paintings covered in cloth, leaning against a wall. “Forgive the mess, Queen Evelina. Stay here as long as you’d like and just give a shout if you need any help. My courier will be unloading some new pieces in the next few minutes, so don’t mind him.”
“Thank you, Clara,” Evelina said as she stepped into the room.
Clara smiled brightly and closed the door behind her.
Evelina reached out to remove the cloth from the first one. It was a beautiful depiction of the Mother Tree, artistically drawn with black lines.
The door banged open, the noise jolting her.
A man came in with a crate full of wrapped paintings, sweat rolling down his temples. He didn’t notice Evelina at first, the paintings covering most of his face as he walked to the center of the room.
“Is that the last of it?” she asked softly.
He jumped, the crate tumbling forward. Evelina rushed toward him and caught the paintings before they spilled onto the floor.
“That would’ve set me back a few months.” The man laughed—still holding the other end—and peered around the side. “Thanks, miss?—”
His words died in his throat as he took Evelina in. She smiled, watching as the realization washed over his face.
The man quickly rebalanced the crate and set it on the floor. He dusted his hands off on his tweed pants. He was fairly young, and couldn’t have been older than twenty-five or thirty. He was handsome, with a slender frame, dark hair, and…round ears. Evelina’s eyes widened.
He was tall for a human, and if his hair were a tad longer to cover his ears, she could’ve easily mistaken him for fae.
He cleared his throat, his demeanor changing instantly. “Queen Evelina,” he said with a quick bow, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. He spun on his heel, nearly tripping over his own feet.
“Wait,” she called out. She didn’t know why she said it. “Do you live here?”
His back was still to her and he didn’t seem too keen on turning around. Hesitantly, he angled himself toward her. “In the refugee camp,” he said softly. His hands trembled.
Evelina had been here countless times and had never seen him. But as she looked down at the paintings, she recognizedthe style; she had seen it more and more over the past few years. All of them were signed with the same looping cursive letters,R.R.
She hummed, and an awkward silence filled the space between them. “Do you know the painter?”
“A seller I deliver for, Queen Evelina.” He tucked his hands behind his back, but not before she saw streaks of paint covering them. His brows were pulled together, and he swallowed thickly.
“May I?” she asked gently.
Without waiting for an answer, she crouched down to the crate and began looking through it. There was more black-lined art, all with harsh streaks across the canvas and no color. She could feel his eyes on her, but she continued to silently look through each painting.
This man looked so much like a young human gardener she once knew. His smile was more hesitant, but he had the same nose as Ian, the same eyes.
The memory of the humans leaving this side of the mountains haunted her. Of all the things that happened leading up to the moment the rebellion formed and the things the crown could’ve done differently to avoid it.
She couldn’t blame the humans entirely—not even Moros himself. Everyone involved played a part in the empire crumbling.
This man seemed…scared of her. Like he couldn’t wait to get away. It broke her heart.
“I’ll take them all,” she said without looking up.
The man inhaled sharply. “You’llwhat?” he breathed. He took a step back and shook his head.
