Chapter 63: Painted Perceptions and Unintended Laughter
Lyria's POV
The Marquess Hale of Westreach approached the dais with the same composed posture that so often betrayed a certain pride, though I suspected today it carried a little more restraint than usual. His painting was lifted from the easel by a servant and held carefully upright before the assembled crowd.
Jacinta's gaze fell upon the canvas, and her smile, though polite, was far less enthusiastic than it had been for Thorncrest or Lucian. There was a stiffness to it, the sort of restrained warmth one might give a gentleman whose intentions were respectable but whose execution had perhaps fallen short of expectation.
"It is… very beautiful," she murmured, folding her hands neatly in her lap.
The Queen tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing in thoughtful appraisal. "Marquess Hale," she said, her tone both gentle and probing, "is that the Princess depicted here?"
The Marquess inclined his head once and nodded.
