*Nicoli*
It wasn't long before Nicoli regretted his choice. The maze was hot thanks to the direct sunlight. And the sun seemed hell-bent on attacking the back of his head. It felt like a magnifying glass burning into his skull.
And that's not to mention the bugs. Oh, the bugs.
I hate bees. Nicoli flinched as another flew by. Was it him, or were they venturing too close to his face? Either way, it made him nervous. Bees being his least favorite bug.
Last year, Nicoli had been stung by one and the pain was horrible. He swelled up like a balloon. It was a whole ordeal, and Nicoli wasn't about to forget it.
But I have to. Nicoli thought to persevere. Because this is for Ana. That was reason enough to put up with it.
But, despite the resolve, the threat of another sting was fresh in his mind. And when one flew too close to his nose, Nicoli couldn't help but jump.
"No!" Nicoli yelped, quickly moving to duck down. "Get away," And he stayed hunched over.
"Your Highness?" Philpé, meanwhile, who was busy painting, looked up curiously at the scream. "If you could just stay still a bit longer?"
"A little longer?" Nicoli wanted nothing more than to just run back inside. At least then, there wouldn't be any bees.
But then Ana's painting won't get done. Nicoli knew. It was a hard trade-off indeed. But Nicoli's desire to see Ana outweighed any nasty bee.
"Ah…okay." Nicoli sat up but eyed the next bee. This one was fatter and slow. It crawled over to another flower. He could hear it hum almost like mocking him.
"Mm," Nicoli whimpered softly. But he stayed put. However, it wasn't just the bees getting to him. He could feel the sweat under his suit make his shirt sticky.
I wish I were over there. Nicoli looked over to Philpé and his assistant, enviously. They did look the more tempting than him right now. They had set up under the shade of a small tent. And it looked so cool compared to where Nicoli sat.
And there are no bugs. Nicoli watched the assistant move easily. No fear of being stung in the shade. The man was mixing colored powders with drips of oil. It actually looked fun, now that he saw it.
"Can I mix some of them?" Nicoli volunteered. "Can I try?"
"Hmm?" Philpé looked up.
"The paint-" Nicoli lifted his head. "Can I mix some? It looks fun."
"Well now, I suppose."Philpé mused before both heard his assistant nearly drop the oil. A shocked look on his face before it firmed into a scowl at Philpé.
"Don't you dare-" He turned on him." do you know how hard it was to get all these together? If you let him mess-"
"I know, I know." Philpé gently shooed him back." I was only joking." He went on. But his assistant gave another quiet look at him as if glowering. Philpé ignored him and returned to his canvas.
"Your Royal Highness, the ingredients to make paint are not easy to come by," Philpé explained. "It would be a shame to waste any. Please understand."
"I wasn't gonna waste any," Nicoli eyed the assistant with more envy. But perhaps Philpé was right. Because the further he watched, the less fun it looked.
It doesn't look very easy. Nicoli watched the assistant eye the vile again and again. Dripping the oil one drop at a time. Tediously mixing in more powder to then move to add, just another drop.
No, it looked hard, not fun, the more Nicoli watched. In the end, Nicoli sighed and shifted, bored again.
My butt hurts. It was getting uncomfortable to sit so long. The stone bench digging into his butt. And there was nothing for him to do but sit still.
Don't forget the bees. Nicoli thought, eyeing another bee. It moving just almost within range of his hand. But maybe the bees were catching on.
Either way, Nicoli tapped his feet impatiently. It was starting to become a new problem to just sit still. No, it was boring. How long did it take to paint a portrait, anyway?
Surely we're almost done. Nicoli thought and tapped his feet. I've been sitting here forever.
It has to be, right? At that moment, Nicoli saw Philpé drop his brush. It was enough to make him hopeful.
"Are we done!?" Nicoli rushed up eagerly. He ran up to look at the painting. But the sight was greatly disappointing.
"What's this?" Nicoli looked at a mess of splotches of paint and sketchings. "This is it?" Nicoli blinked in disbelief. "I thought you were done."
"Done, he says. Ha!" Philpé's assistant barked a laugh. "It's only been a day."
"Yeah, and I've been sitting all day." Nicoli held up his fingers. "It's like forever. Why isn't it done now?" He looked up to the painter. "How long till it's finished?"
"That, well," Philpé made a slight face as if trying not to be too hard with the facts and lean on the bright side of things. "We've made some great progress, Your Royal Highness."
"You did?" Nicoli couldn't see it. "But it's not done." He went again, still stuck on the weird canvas. "Why isn't it done?"
"Paintings take time, my lord," P hilpé explained but Nicoli only pouted.
"Yeah, I know. I've been sitting for hours." Nicoli went again. " Enough that my butt hurts." Nicoli made a point to rub his but. "So why isn't it done?"
"Paintings take more time than that." Philpé laughed once more, not having much else to say. "You've not had a portrait of yourself so you wouldn't know. But paintings are not quick things."
"There…not?" Nicoli registered slowly.
"No, my lord." Philpé shook his head and his assistant shook his head to confirm it.
"Then," Nicoli pressed his lips. He tried to calculate. "Another hour?"
"An hour?" Philpé's assistant nearly choked a laugh. Philpé chuckled as well. But it wasn't to be cruel.
"Longer than an hour, I'm afraid."
"Longer than an hour?" Nicoli's eyes widened. "Then, how long?"
Philpé, there, paused to look up at the sun. Seeming to guess from the position in the sky what time it was. His assistant, meanwhile, held up a number of fingers.
"This long," He went and Philpé nodded.
"Yes, I think so," Philpé answered back. "Give or take with the weather."
"7 fingers?" Nicoli, meanwhile, was watching both. "Wait, what does 7 fingers mean? 7 hours?"
Both men had to laugh at that.
"Oh, no, not 7 hours." Philpé went on. "It's days."
"Days?" Nicoli repeated to have both men nod.
"About a week for something of this size." Philpé went with confidence.
"A week!?" Nicoli dropped his jaw, the shock overwhelming. "It takes a whole week?!"
"For the paint to dry correctly, yes, your majesty." Philpé pointed to the paint. It looked wet and oily on the canvas.
"This…I didn't know it was going to take a whole week." Nicoli darkened.
"My lord? Is something wrong?"
"I…I should have asked beforehand how long this would take." Nicoli shuffled his feet. "I wanted to surprise Ana, so I was gonna send her the portrait- but if it's gonna take a whole week…."
I didn't send her anything else. Nicoli thought heavily. It would be another week he went without a letter.
Will Ana be upset? Nicoli had to pout at the idea. He didn't like Ana not getting anything. But it was already too late to send anything else. It wouldn't arrive in time.
"I hope Ana won't get mad." Nicoli went softly.
"Ana?" Philpé asked.
"Empress Anastasia of Nochten." His assistant informed.
"Ah," Philpé nodded understanding."Is this for her Empress, then? The reason you suddenly wanted a portrait?"
"Yeah." Nicoli nodded but sighed. "But I didn't know it would take this long. What if she thinks I forgot to send anything? That I forgot about her?"
I should have sent a letter anyway instead of waiting- No, I can't give up! Nicoli stopped his negative thoughts. He couldn't let it beat him.
"Philpé!" Nicoli shot up with renewed fire. "You must paint faster!"
"I can only work as fast as the paint dries."Philpé shrugged his hands. "I can't command it to dry."
"No?" Nicoli sank a little at that. But he could see the painter didn't say it to be mean. He was only being honest.
"Then," Nicoli swallowed in a large intake of air, trying to think. "What can I do to help?"
"To help?" Both men, seeing the child being serious, turned to each other. A quiet question was exchanged between them.
"Do you think we can?" Philpé's assistant went at last. "If the weather keeps, do think we can?"
"We damn well can."Philpé voiced with energy. A fire started to burn in his eyes and he looked back to Nicoli.
"My lord, you say you want this for Empress Anastasia?" Philpé asked pointedly." It's that important to you that it gets out in time?"
"It is." Nicoli nodded. "The most important."
"Very well," Philpé nodded and motioned to his assistant. He nodded in agreement.
"I'll make more paint, then." And he went off to start mixing. Philpé nodded before turning to Nicoli.
"You sure you want to do this?"
"I do." Nicoli wasn't any more certain about anything in his life. He met the painter's passionate gaze. The man nodded as if liking what he saw.
"And you'll do anything?"But Philpé still tested.
"For Ana, I will steal the moon," Nicoli announced with the confidence of an 8-year-old But it was enough for them. Both men had to laugh.
"These kids…" Philpé chuckled but understood. "Then, if Your Majesty can put up with longer sessions, we can cut the time down."
"Yes. I can do that-" Nicoli nodded vigorously.
"That means sitting in the sun for longer. And you can't flinch."
"But, the bees?" Nicoli looked past Philpé to see the said creatures. The fat lazy bugs flying with wings too small. Just looking at them made him swallow down a whimper.
If he had to sit here, they would be buzzing by him. They would get close. Maybe even land on him. It was scary to think about.
But I can do that if it's for Ana. Nicoli thought and renewed resolve. For Ana!
Screw the bees. Nicoli could endure.
"I won't." Niccoli lifted his head. " I swear." And on his word, Nicoli moved. He rushed back to the bench and sat down.
"I'm ready when you are!" Nicoli sat stone straight and smiled. He sucked in the air as another bee passed. But he didn't flinch. He wouldn't allow it.
Ana's going to be so happy. Nicoli thought. And she will be so pleased she will write back to tell me all about it! At that, Nicoli felt his heart quicken. That alone was enough.
It doesn't matter if it's one hour or a thousand of enduring the sun or bees. If Ana wrote back, Nicoli was sure he could do it.
While sitting, Nicoli felt his butt pinch. Was it the bench or a bee? Nicoli was afraid to now. But he wouldn't move, regardless.
"Excellent, your majesty." Philpé, meanwhile, looked to his assistant, who was bringing a new pallet of paints over. "Then let's start. For Empress Anastasia."
"For Ana!" Nicoli returned and threw up his hands. "Oh, sorry. " He quickly apologized and went back to sit.
The two men laughed again at his outburst.
"It is fine, Your Royal Highness," Philpé went moving to take up the paints. "Just sit still from now on."
"Yes, right." Nicoli nodded again with a firm expression. It was so severe for someone so young that it had both men looked at each other curiously.
"He must love her." Philpé's assistant remarked softly. "Look how devoted he is."
"If she's anything like her mother, "Philpé replied, "I'm not that surprised."
"Aye, I remember her." The assistant commented, remembering. "She was remarkable."
"She was, indeed." Philpé voiced with a far-off memory of that fateful day. "Empress Parsul." And with that, he moved to press the brush to the canvas to start. "She was the best subject I ever got to paint."