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"If you feel you cannot complete the course, tell me beforehand, Bibiane." I stood at the door way between the outside world and my father who looked reproachful yet wise enough with his hair unbrushed and a packet of letters in his hands.

"I'm fine. I felt faint from my work that day." I nodded, taking short steps backwards. My dressing maids hadn't been on time today, leaving me with a looser binding than I'd thought possible since I was 13 years old.

"I suppose. Get on your way now." He nodded, taking steps back into the house's first floor and shutting the door afterwards. Well then.

I took several steps back, making sure to only move subtly, grace was still somewhat important to me despite the ever swarming whispers from our neighbours. I hadn't had many suitors come by after I'd been admitted into the academy, the male nude was ever looming. To be fair, I'm not as pale nor my face as curved as I'd like...so I'd say it was a mix of the academy and the fact I'm average looking.

I should bathe more, but it was difficult to get that amount of water together for both my father and I between his plays and my art. We were still stuck to only one a month, I knew for a fact the noble families in Versaille bathed at least once a week, the King had demanded it.

"Miss Corneille, your head is in the clouds." Poussin's voice startled me, my hand fell off the Academy's front door.

"A little, sir." I bowed my head uneasily, feeling my heart beat skip again. This is uncomfortable.

"You should make sure to eliminate that, work on your art more. The king will be here in less than a fortnight." I could feel his gaze, burning. I felt almost powerless as he seemed to strike me with little else than his voice and his eyes.

"You're correct." I nodded at his words, heeding them enough to push all else from my mind excluding my goal.

Silence edged on and on between us, there were no other students leaving me with a bit of confusion as to why he was keeping me here still. I'd almost grown impatient when I heard him whisper something under his breath.

"Pardon?" I raised a brow at the stone stairs we were still standing on.

"I was merely pondering why you're so determined, Miss Corneille." His propriety was abound as he asked me the personal question, forcing me to lift my head. "It's unreachable." His words stopped my head.

I said nothing for a short while, corralling my anger and hurt at such a statement. I'd made it this far, hadn't I? For god's sake, I was in the academy. I was step up from any female there was in existence today.

"Freedom, sir. A king as a patron is quite the step up from hiding away in Italy, wouldn't you say, sir?" I looked him in the eye as I spat out my retort.

A second passed, surprise roamed over his eyes and died quickly. At first I expected the anger, the yelling, the beratement for such disrespect. Instead he seemed to chuckle much like one would at a precocious child.

"We'll be studying the male nude today, Madame." He stated through waves of mirth as he continued back into the building as though I'd only been a minor stop. Minor, indeed. We stood out here for ages, I'd begun to feel the cold drifting up my skirts, good God.


This is excruciating. I was trying my hardest to focus on the curves of his frame but he was shaking like a leaf, poor thing. He was so nervous, my tutor's eyes boring a hole into his exposed spine. No. Terrified is more like it. Absolutely terrified. I stood with a sigh.

"Giving up, Miss Corneille?" Poussin's voice echoed in the room, remind me that it was typically filled with several dozen students at a time. With only one, every sound made quite the thunder.

"I'm getting some water, sir." I replied astutely, saying nothing more as I left the room.

I'd completed a study of his face already, it was his torso that gave me trouble...I just couldn't get past his...extra limb. I'd never seen such a thing since I was a child and a passing glance as a child didn't really seal it into my mind.

"Head in the clouds again?" I was startled yet again by my ever silent tutor. His face was one of victory, like he'd somehow won this game of his. It was far from over, honestly.

"I wouldn't say so, sir." I returned with the intention to not look shaken.

"I must admit, Madame, I had expected an intrinsically female response." He seemed to be making conversation which was oddly alarming.

"Which would be?" I challenged him, daring him to say what I knew was coming. Nicolas Poussin had been a man of few words in my presence and it seemed he was now interested in every word that came out of my mouth so I elected to test this new found interest.

"A fainting spell in the least." He resounded, watching my face slyly.

"And why would you expect such a thing?" I scoffed, turning to face him entirely.

"You seemed quite close to one yesterday evening." He dragged it out, leaving me with the impression he'd seen more than he'd let on originally. "Back to class now." His tone light as he chided me.

I followed behind him demurely with a feeling of dislike for the man spreading over my limbs as I watched his back. This was an extraordinary characteristic I wasn't sure I enjoyed, Poussin had me alarmed.


"Good evening, Miss Corneille." A male artist greeted warily me as he walked passed the stairs, both of us on our ways home. I believe he'd been focused on genre scenes, landscape painting and so on. Lower art forms. I may have been a scandal, looking at such a form as the male in his nudity a week ago, but atleast I was in prestigious work.

No. His scenes were much lower than my beloved history paintings. I would become great...some day. I vowed as much to my younger sisters when they accused me of being so uncourtly that I'd never find a respectable husband. At this rate, I wasn't sure I wanted one. They seemed like such work, such a drag of time and effort that I could place into my paintings.

My mother was forever instructing me to marry for wealth and power, I could follow my dreams with a lack of any discourse from society as long as I was the wife of a powerful man...If not powerful then talented. Someone who was famed for such talent.

I knocked into someone's shoulder, pointed and painful as I bounced off of it.

"Oh my word, I apologise." I looked up, expecting a female with her lace collar having scratched past my face. We looked soft and billowy at a distance but the closer one got, the easier one could see all our layers. Some looked a tad rubenesque, the ideal full-bodied women of our time but alas. We could not afford the food. One day, I would be able to eat all I wanted.

"Miss Cornielle." The same floating voice greeted me with bemusement that I'd grown used to in the past few months. Poussin. I supposed it'd been his wool cape that had touched my cheek. It had gotten rather chilled lately.

"Sir." I waited for him to greet me with a tip of his hat, which he did in time.

"Shall I walk you back?" He raised brow, speaking rather casually for a man of his stature. He was not married, meaning there was no need for him to be home early...but he'd gained quite the title for himself in time, hiding away in his hobble with the Italians. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea...but. It would be rude to refuse now, I'd already spent a moment debating it.

"I find that would be agreeable." I gave him a tip of my head in thanks, and moved in sync with him so I would be on the right. I placed my hand over his as customary, expecting him to continue walking. Instead he seemed even more amused than when I had bumbled into him.

"You're working towards courtly manners already, Miss Cornielle?" His brow raised still.

"One can never be too prepared." I resounded astutely, ignoring the possible laugh at my expense. One could also be a little to serious, my virtuousness hadn't been scorned by his words, so I let them go.

"Your work is exemplary." I was taken aback at the unabashed compliment of my passion. He was not typical to give a compliment, in fact it wasn't typical of him to give anything outside of a good criticism of design.

"Sir?" I was still searching for words as I glanced at him then quickly looked away. He stopped, turning to take hold of my hand in a more friendly fashion than I thought entirely appropriate for a tutor and his pupil to share. In fact, it was entirely inappropriate.

"I know I rarely say it, but honest to godliness, your work is magnificent." His words were honeyed with soft overtures of honesty and awe but I did not trust it. I held my head back with reproach as I realised I couldn't pull my gloved hand out of his. His grip was too strong. This was a threat to my virtuousness, especially if someone were to see us in such a position.

"Bibiane, I hope you think it not too bold of me but I wish to give you a gift." His head bowed with that, awaiting my response. I was leery of this gift of his. Leery of his entirely figure at the moment.

"Gift?" I raised a brow at his statement, confusion was clearly heard through my lips by him.

"Yes, a gift. You will be able to paint non-stop. And glorious paintings at that, each line, entirely precise and each colour exactly as you meant it to be." He nodded quickly, searching my eyes for my acceptance.

"And your price then?" My eyes were hooded with suspicion as I awaited his answer. It would likely cost a fortune, something that good. Too good. My back felt as though something were creeping up it.

"Merely your permission." He bowed his head again, portraying more respect than he'd ever shown in the last weeks of my training.

"Only that? Truly? " I raised both brows now, surprised at the cost.

"Yes. Only that. Your father already gave me permission when he handed you to me for my tutorship, Madame." He added, explaining the details I already knew over again. This was the only way that I'd be allowed in the Academy, I had to be under his gaze any time I was on the Academy grounds. It was simply policy.

"I...see." I remarked slowly to myself. How much did I really trust this offer of his? He'd been reputable in the past, no out lying debts, no children out of wedlock... But did I trust him? Personally?

"Your reply?" He looked mildly disinterested for someone seemingly so persistent. I was thrown off yet again by that. His intrinsic trait to simply change whatever he felt in a second's notice. Yet... still, I felt enthralled by his proposition.

"I would appreciate some time...to think this over." I waited for a few seconds, hoping this would be enough for him now. Enough for me to simply think this all over.