The Ratking

CHAPTER 11 – The man in the painting

Shortly after she heard from Frederick how and why he had been cursed, Natalie was again exploring the old part of the palace. She had an afternoon free of her studies and hoped to finally find the key to a locked door there. She had quite a few old keys that she had collected over some weeks and she wanted to try them on the mysterious door.

Several of the keys had been used without success until finally one of them turned. It had been rusty and dirty when Natalie had found it, quite by accident, while walking in the garden with her teacher during a botany lesson. Natalie had cleaned it and oiled it and now she could clearly hear the click as it opened the heavy door. She didn't know what to expect on the other side. Well, she didn't expect to see the corpses of previous brides like in Bluebeard's castle. But what could it be that needed to be locked away? What could be there that it made somebody, Frederick perhaps, throw away the key? Natalie was nervous even though she didn't do something forbidden. After all, Frederick had given her the freedom to explore the castle, without restriction. She entered the dark room. When her eyes had gotten used to the gloom she saw that she was in a long room, more a wide corridor. On one side there were heavily curtained windows. Natalie opened all the curtains one by one until she reached the end of what turned out to be the picture gallery. Judging by the amount of dust nobody had been there for a very long time. The few pieces of furniture and the pictures were covered with dustsheets.

Natalie carefully removed the sheet from the first picture. A man in a regal attitude looked down at her. The little plaque had a name and date on it. This was obviously the official portrait of one of Frederick's predecessors. Natalie covered the picture again before moving to the next one. She looked at the pictures one by one; pictures of kings, queens, princes and princesses and families. The final painting showed a man, a woman and a teenage boy. It was the final picture of Frederick and his family, probably done before he went away to school. Natalie uncovered a seat and sat down to study the picture. The father looked proud, standing behind his son. The mother, her hand on her son's shoulder, had a lovely, friendly face. The boy stood as proud as his father but the painter had captured something mischievous and happy in his eyes, something Natalie had occasionally seen in her husband's eyes though mostly he looked serious … or sad when he thought she wasn't looking.

There was one more picture, not hanging up but leaning against the wall. When Natalie removed the dustsheet she gasped. It was the unfinished official picture of Frederick, started when he'd become king but never finished and now hidden and locked away. Natalie had to swallow hard to keep the tears down. Even though unfinished the painting showed enough already for Natalie to realise what her husband would have been if she hadn't interfered with his plans. Not a pretty boy but a handsome man, to her at least. And now he could never be that man again. The painting would never be finished, locked away in this room that hadn't been opened in ages. Probably not since the day Melina had cursed the island.

From the moment she found the picture of her husband Natalie could not take her eyes of it. She was so taken up by her thoughts that the gong announcing dinner took her completely by surprise. Hurriedly Natalie covered the unfinished painting again, went out and carefully locked the door. She quickly washed and got dressed for dinner and hurried down. Luckily they didn't have guests that day so only Frederick had been kept waiting.

"You're rather late. Did you get engrossed in your study?" Frederick laughed.

"Yes," Natalie mumbled, hoping he wouldn't ask any further. If he did she would tell him the truth. After the disastrous outcome of her wedding day she had vowed to herself that she would never keep anything from him anymore.

Of course he did ask.

"What were you studying that you forgot the time?"

"You."

"Me?"

He laughed, and incredulous laugh.

"I opened the door to the picture gallery and was looking at your picture when the gong sounded."

She'd said it fast, to get it over with as soon as possible. He stopped laughing.

"You can't have. I threw the key away."

"I know. I found it."

She told him where and how she'd found the key and then added, "You never told me it was a forbidden room."

"Perhaps I should have. I never thought you would find the key."

"I'm sorry. Do you want the key back? I locked the room before I came here."

He sighed.

"It doesn't matter really. If you want to look at those paintings go ahead. They are just relics of dead people now."

"But … but you aren't … dead, I mean."

"The man in the painting is."

Natalie saw the pain in her husband's eyes. Perhaps she should have lied after all.

"I'm sorry," she said. "The only thing I seem good at is upsetting you. If I had known I would never have opened that door."

He shrugged, "I know you didn't mean to hurt me. I should have told you."

They had their dinner in silence. Natalie had lost her appetite and Frederick didn't eat much either. They both declined dessert. Frederick claimed he still had some business to attend to. He quickly left the dining room. To Natalie it felt as if he was fleeing her company. Like so many times before she sat up all night thinking about her marriage to the rat-king. Had she done the right thing? Would Princess Clarissa have married him eventually? Did saving her colleagues and the crew of the Falcon weigh up to the continued sorrow of the rat-people? Of all the questions spooking around in her head only one could be answered with certainty. No way would Princess Clarissa have married the rat-king.

Next morning, very pale after a sleepless night, Natalie sat at the breakfast table. This time it was Frederick who was late. Eventually he did arrive. One look at his wife convinced him that her night had been as bad as his.

"I'm sorry, Natalie. I behaved like a real rat yesterday. All night I've been thinking about you and the picture gallery and this morning I've come to a conclusion. The picture gallery is yours; just keep the door locked at all times."

"Oh no, you don't have to apologise. I should have realised that door was locked for a reason."

"Friends again?"

She nodded, "Always friends."

"Good. Just don't go falling in love with a man in a painting." He said it light-heartedly, as if it was meant as a joke but Natalie only had a wan smile for it. She knew she had fallen for someone else already; an unusual man, whose eyes were the same as those of the man in the painting.