Talia stifled a gasp and did her best to hide her shock, but staring into those familiar wide brown eyes almost took her breath away.
They were unmistakably Ora's eyes. The artist had perfectly rendered her sister's eyes, but on closer examination, the face itself wasn't quite right. The cheekbones were a little too high, the nose a bit snubby, and the hair was certainly too dark.
Talia stepped back, tearing her focus from the eyes to take in the whole of the picture. Lady Grieta had mentioned a painting favored by Ora in her letter... she had referred to it as a depiction of the wedding of Princess Alula.
Of course, it could not have been painted by a Vezdan artist. Every child in Vezda knew the legend of Princess Alula-- the famous warrior who had never married. She was the first born daughter of King Eosin and his human wife, and had spent her life fighting to keep Vezda safe from the monsters who had come down from the northern mountains. She had used her life and blood to seal them far from the borders of Vezda.
If the woman in the painting was truly supposed to be Princess Alula, then not only did the artist not have even the most basic understanding of Vezdan mythology, they had no knowledge of Vezda at all.
The forest the woman stood in was filled with pine and ferrisnut-- which did not grow in the southern climate of her home. She had seen such forests only in Unaria. The long white gown with wide sleeves worn by the Princess, was not a style favored by Vezdans-- though it was also not a look she had seen in Unaria. Perhaps it was the artist's idea of what the clothing worn in the ancient days looked like.
It was also odd that such a scene was meant to depict a wedding. The Princess was the focus and lone figure in the painting. She appeared to be walking through the woods at night in her long white gown, and was depicted as glancing back over her shoulder at the viewer-- almost as if she had heard something behind her and feared pursuit.
In her right hand, she held a posey of small red flowers and an engraved golden arm band-- the one object in the painting that was uniquely Vezdan. Engraved arm bands were exchanged after a couple had their first engagement ceremony.
The red flowers, however... well, she had never seen such flowers before, though something about them was oddly familiar. Small, with five-pointed petals and red as blood, their bright color drew the eye to the woman's hand, and then to the ground where a few of them appeared to be growing.
There was some meaning to them, of course-- some deeper meaning to the whole painting, but as she stared at it, nothing immediately suggested itself.
The wedding of Alula.... Talia shook her head slowly. The legend of Alula which she knew, was both a tradgedy and a tale of great heroism. By sacrificing her life, the warrior Princess had bound the ancient ones to the mountains of the far north. There was no marriage in the tale... nor romance to speak of. Princess Alula had been driven by a single purpose, she was--
"That's odd," Ilya said interrupting her thoughts. "Is this supposed to be a painting of Julia of Yevin?"
Talia stiffened at his words and turned her head slightly to see Ilya studying the canvas with a thoughtful frown. She had almost forgotten he was there.
"I don't know," Talia said quickly, taking a step back.
"I think it is. I recognize that flower. I've never actually seen one before, but its the same as the flower on the crest of Yevin," Ilya said, his frown deepening as he leaned foward to examine the flowers in the woman's hand. "And the woman appears to be fleeing, doesn't she?"
"I wouldn't assume she's fleeing... her face doesnt appear fearful at all," Talia shrugged, and turned away from the image. She busied herself with picking up the torn paper scraps of packaging.
"Well, you must know the story. After all, Lady Julia was-"
"The Duke of Yevin's sister- I am aware," Talia interrupted brusquely.
"Your aunt," Ilya finished. "She was your aunt. Emperor Alexsi planned to marry her to his son,Grigori, but she had already fallen in love with a Vezdan prince. When the Emperor's summons arrived, she fled in the night, escaping to Vezda."
Talia shook her head and did her best to keep her expression indifferent while setting the scraps of paper aside on the chair.
"She was not my aunt. Mother told me the story when I was young. The Duke of Yevin's sister never made it to Fronov. She took ill while traveling, and passed away on the road between Gelt and the Great Temple. My father's brother was away at the time, cloistered on the Holy Island when it happened. He had not known that she was coming, and it was almost a year before he received news of her death. However, I suppose it was true that he loved her. Mother said he was never the same after. He died of summer fever a few months after my sister was born. Summer fever is rarely deadly, but mother said he had weakend from a broken heart."
Ilya turned his head to glance at her in an almost calculating way.
"There is a different tale told in Unaria," he said slowly.
"I'm certain there is," Talia scoffed dismissively. "There is always a different tale told here, but the truth of it would lie with the ones who buried her, and that was my mother and father. You should repackage that thing and see that it is removed. Prince Mikhail might return at any moment."
Talia strode confidently across the room without giving the painting another glance, and bent down to open one of her trunks. She made a great show of sorting through her gowns as though she were looking for something.
Ilya watched her in silence, as Talia did her best not to wince. She was acting far too dismissive and uninterested now, and if even she realized it, Ilya likely thought it even stranger.
She took a deep breath and continued to sort through her clothes, hoping that her hands would soon stop shaking. Grieta was indeed more snake than woman!
"Why do you suppose that Lady Grieta would send a painting of the Duke of Yevin's sister as a wedding present to Prince Mikhail?" Ilya probed, coming to stand over her. He folded his arms as he frowned down at her.
"I cannot pretend to know her mind. I am not certain that it even depicts the woman you mentioned. Perhaps it is a threat of some sort," Talia suggested, raising her eyes to his own.
Ilya continued to watch her in silence for a moment.
"Hmmm," he said at last, and turned his attention back to the painting.
At that moment, the door burst open to reveal a shocking image.
Prince Mikhail, supported on either side by his soldiers, stumbled into the room. His long black hair looked wet, sticking to his clothes as though coated in oil. His face was drained of color and his eyes were wide and unfocused with pain.
There was blood on his hands, and his tunic and breeches were covered in dark stains as well, but try as she might, she could see no wounds.
Talia stood slowly, letting the clothes drop from her hands, her mind reeling to grasp what she was seeing. He had only just left her side. He had only gone to speak with the Emperor, he had not time to leave the palace. Was it assasins? Where had the blood even come from? Why did he-
"Sir Ilya!" barked on of the soldiers, his voice sounded panicked, demanding orders, what was he to do?
"On the bed, quickly," Ilya ordered, hurrying forward. "Call for our personal physician from Bludston. Now! GO!"
As Ilya hurried to take the soldier's place at Mikhail's side, he froze in shock, his eyes staring at the Prince's back. He shook his head slightly and muttered a curse word.
What had he seen? Had the Prince been stabbed in the back? Talia wanted to run to him at once, but her feet remained rooted to the spot. His eyes were open, but he did not appear to see anything. The amount of blood was... was... there was so much. Even his boots, as they half-carried, half-dragged him toward the bed, left streaks of red across the clean marble flooring.
"On his stomach!" Ilya snapped, "Lay him on his stomach and send for bandages, clean water, and whatever herbs you can find to staunch the flow of blood! Princess! Princess, get over here!"
As if his voice was the key to breaking the spell which kept her feet rooted to the ground, Talia stumbled forward.
They had dropped him face first on the bed and now she could see the damage to him. He'd been stabbed multiple times in the back.
Cowards! What sort of cowards-
"Princess, I need you to hold this!" Ilya yelled.
He had pulled a sheet from the bed and was quickly ripping it into bandaging with the aid of his swordpoint.
Talia did as she was instructed and pressed down hard over the largest wound while Ilya struggled to wrap the bandaging around him.
Prince Mikhail's face was turned to the side, his eyes wide and unblinking. Though he did not appear to see anything, his lips moved as though he were whispering, and they were stained with blood as well.
He was dying. He would die.
That much, Talia knew. She had spent her entire life on a battlefield , and she recognized the signs easily. He had lost far too much blood. He had no reflexes to anything the did, he was... dying. The physician would not arrive before he was gone, and even Ilya... must have known as much.
She had lived through this too many times. Too many times she had sat and watched as her soldiers, as her family members, as the people she cared for, succumbed to death before her very eyes. Bleeding out, starving, coughing, gagging, begging with their eyes to be saved... and she had followed the rules.
She could not, must not ever... use the blood. It was the first and most important rule of House Eosin.
And yet they were still taught how to use it, all of them had been. Cloistered on the Holy Island, deep within the sancturary, behind locked doors they had been taught the old magics. The old magic that they must learn... but never use.
"Get out," she said, raising her eyes to stare at Ilya.
Ilya glowered at her.
"Are you mad? He'll die! He's dying-"
"Yes. He'll die. He'd die even if the Physician was tending to him right now. Get out. Take them all with you," she said calmly, releasing her hold above his wound and reaching out for Ilya's short sword.
Ilya's face colored with anger, and he opened his mouth as if he would scream at her, but then he stopped his eyes widening in understanding.
"You... you can't... you can't do that... can you?" He muttered his voice barely above a whisper.
Talia looked directly into his eyes and gave a slight nod.