The first thing on his mind since he saw her at the door was if she came looking for him. His mood has been sour his the early of the morning.

The reason for his foul mood was quite obvious.

Except that nobody thought he was emotionally attached to his First man and just assume he was upset about something else.

She just stood there with a confused expression on her face. Her eyes were wide and large as she looked from the painter to him.

Her hair was down, brushed until there was a pretty sheen to it when it caught the light. And she was wearing one of the green dresses he gave her - probably because she had already worn out all her drab and dreary dresses.

Even he felt that the painter was exaggerating, but there was no point telling the enthusiastic man that.

He had been sitting on the same chair since he finished breakfast and he ached to get up and move around for a little bit.

But Maximus would never have any of that.

Yeren knew he had been postponing having a portrait done but there had been no escaping it. If he had his way, he would do it in his grave.

And the portrait was to be placed next to that of his father, adding to the great cluster of Kings that came from the Stormhall house.

And in all the pictures, the men always stood alone, looking like they bore the weight of the world on their sombre shoulders.

Would he be so bold as to invite Claire to join him?

"Do come in, pretty girl." Maximus rushed to set up a seat for her by the window.

Her dress rustled as she walked into the room hesitantly.

His eyes followed her until she thanked him and took the seat he offered.

"Now, we continue."

Yeren sling back against his chair and stared at the canvas like he had been doing all morning.

Except his eyes kept straying to the woman who watched Maximus very closely.

Not once did she look at him. And she sat with her back straighter than a plank.

"I never asked your name, pretty girl."

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"I am a woman." Her voice was slightly firm. "And you must have heard of the King’s former Cupbearer."

"Former?" The man asked, his attention still focused intently on his art.

The reason Yeren respected him was because he was the best at what he did in the whole of Reden but asides that, the man had a very loose tongue.

"Yes, I was released from my service just yesterday."

Yeren had to glance at her.

Maximus clapped impatiently for him to return his attention to the easel.

Why did she sound happy about it?

"Oh, you must be the infamous Miss Stenly... or should I say Lady Stenly?"

That was when she glanced at him.

"Why do you say infamous?" She asked instead.

The man answered without looking up from his strokes, "You are quite popular amongst the maids here and beyond for your boldness."

He saw colour flood her cheeks.

It was clear what ’boldness’ was being referred to.

"I was busy, I should return to where I was heading to before I came here."

Where exactly was she heading to?

As far as she was concerned, she was now a very idle woman.

She stood up and smoothed her gown with her graceful, elegant fingers.

Suddenly, sitting there and watching everything unfold without daring to twitch his eyelid was harder than fencing or viewing years worth of accounts with Malrick.

"Shall we call it a day, Maximus?" He asked, even though he was already rising from his seat.

Maximus knew better than to decline his request and nodded, his face grim.

"When will you be free, Your Grace? I must tell you that you are not getting any younger - all your youthful handsomeness must be captured."

Yeren pretended to ponder a date.

"Nothing comes to mind. I will let you know when I will be ready."

His curiosity to see what little Maximus had been able to accomplish died the moment he set his eyes on another more stunning piece of art.

He caught up with her along the hallway, notifying his guards to follow at a distance.

She didn’t acknowledge him, she just kept walking on.

But he did notice that her steps grew forecful and her jaw was tense.

"Good day, Lady Stenly."

She stopped and turned around so abruptly that he was thrown off guard.

"Good day, Your Grace. You will not find suitable companionship with me if that’s what you are looking for." Her tone was cold, her eyes even more so.

A chill coiled through him but he ignored it.

"How do you feel today?"

"You mean to ask if I am with child, do you not?"

Not used to being snapped at, he winced as if he was slapped.

"Is it so hard for you to acknowledge that I genuinely care for your well being? When would you stop being biased against me, Lady Stenly?"

She blinked, her solid composite cracking somewhat.

"I should believe I am fine." Averting her gaze, she added, "And thank you for the meal you sent to me yesterday."

So she could be grateful?

"I was just doing my part in ensuring your well being."

"I can see that." She said dryly.

Tense silence fell over them both as they wondered what to say to fill up the silence.

"How much longer?" She suddenly asked.

He blinked.

"How much longer...?"

"Till you finally deem fit to release me."

Oh.

That again?

"No one is holding you captive, Lady Stenly. Since you might be bearing my child, I want to confirm before you leave. I would send a doctor to look at you on the morrow."

The light in her eyes dimmed immediately.

"And?"

"And then you can leave."

’Since that is what you want so much,’ he wanted to add so badly.

"Thank you. And if I am, I will leave with it."