After dinner, Michelles emotions were like a rollercoaster. On the one hand, she was exited for her painting lessons. On the other hand, she still felt jealous. But why? Lumiere was just a friend, they hardly knew each other. And yet...
Michelle politely knocked at Pinturas door.
"Come in." the rough voice of the paintress answered.
"Hello, Madame Pintura."
The paintress scowled at Michelle.
"Senorita Pintura, I mean." Michelle corrected and sat down, opposing the rather short but skinny woman. She certainly wasn't that old. Not as old as Madame Blanchard had been and certainly not even close to Mrs. Pott. She was ten years older AT THE MOST.
"Well, my dear. You think you can master the art of..." Senorita Pintura grabbed a paint brush, dipped it into a pot full of red paint and swiftly spinned, while painting a line on the canvas."...painting?!"
"Um...no. No, I have to learn so much. I'm no master, and probably never will be." Michelles head dropped.
"Oh my..." Senorita Pintura smiled gently. "Neither am I. But you seem to be interested. And berlieve me, dear, EVERYBODY can be a master of their field once they work really hard and are dedicated enough." She sighed. "Not like my niece, who just let me down."
"Your...niece?" Michelles eyebrows raised. Only now she realized that Pinturas accent was close to...
"Elena!" Michelle exclaimed.
Pintura nodded.
"I did everything I could for her, so she could become the next big artist in our family, but then she starts hanging out with my ex...swith...with that stupid old..." Pintura groaned. "He told her two years ago how wonderful music is and better than REAL art. And of course she bought that!"
"Oh no, so she wasn't always such a...beast."
Pintura shook her head. "No, she was sweet once. And now he wants to seduce the prince. Because if she's in "good terms" with him, that would be good for her and, well, her mentor."
"Huh? But the prince has to know about-"
"The prince is a spoiled, little brat, just like my niece. And it's entirely possible he might would marry her even. Her father, my brother, was just a middle class man, but her mother was the daughter of a lord and his wife. So she is half nobility." Pintura shrugged. "They literally deserve each other." Pintura took more paimt out of her cupboard. "Enough about my life story. You are here to learn something, right?
Elena and Fife worked on cleaning the room, joking around and talking.
"Say, Elena, how was it in Paris?" Fife asked, as he put some instruments into a cupboard.
Elena avoided his gaze, but a dreamy smile widened in her face. She blushed. "Nice." she answered. Fife looked at her in confusion.
Elena looked at him and giggled. "Well, I got a bit closer to the Prince."
Fifes mouth dropped open. "You mean...?"
"N-no! Gosh, Fife, what are you thinking? I'm a lady after all!"
"True." Fife nodded in relief. "So, what happened."
"We went on a tour through the city and talked a little. That's all." Elena busily grabbed the broom and started to sweep the floor.
"You don't have to do this. The maids will take care of tht tommorrow." the young man pointed out.
"It's okay. When we are at it, we can clean the floor entirely. I'll leave a note at the door for the maids, that they don't have to sweep here tommorrow. But it's late. You can go to bed if you want."
"Well," Fife yawned. "Going to bed sounds about right. Good night, Elena"
"Good night."
Fife left the room and as soon as Elena had finished her work, she fell into the huge armchair which actually belonged to the prince.
She wasn't sure about the whole thing anymore. While she had been lying to Fife about the trip to Paris and her relationship to the Prince, she still felt bad about leading him on. It was cruel, she knew this. Deep inside, he maybe wasn't such an insufferable brat. Maybe, just...maybe, he was deep inside a good human being.
Elena sighed. She'd rather marry out of love, but...money was everything. That's what she had been told. And was it wrong? The rich and powerful were the ones who lived better, who never had to worry about food, clothes or a home. But being poor, you'd have nothing! Tears streamed down her face. She was ready to do whatever was needed to get back on top, to be part of the socially higher class. Even if it meant to be cruel...
"Not bad" Pintura looked at Belles beautiful first try.
"Thanks." Michelle answered, cleaning her face from the paint. "Will ever get this out off my dress?"
It was nothing more, than a simple vase, but hey, everyone starts small, right?
"Well, I can't 100%ly judge by this, but you seem very...talented."
Pintura looked Michelle deep into the eyes. "Michelle..."
"Yes?" the young girl responded.
"Would you like to get taught by me?"
"Michelle grinned. "You can bet on it!"