Did she paint the lake? It was a fair enough question in itself, though it would cause the blonde princess to turn her head and admire the artwork once more. Truthfully she wished she had, but art was a talent that she had not dipped into since before her father died. Mostly it was because, when in Rothbart’s care, there was nowhere to paint. After his death and her time spent restoring the palace, she had little time. There was a room to the back that she would enjoy turning into a painting lounge, but she didn’t have the resources or days to commit to it. It would have to wait a little while yet.
“It was a gift,” she answered, though her words were not unkind. She turned back to the younger woman and smiled warmly, nodding her head once. “There is art of mine back at my father’s palace, though I do not wish to import it here. Most of it would not match.” It was that and she didn’t want to remove the things from her father’s land and her father’s quarters. It was a sign of grieving her advisors said, though she was not inclined to break it. Perhaps she was still mourning her father’s death. It certainly was not something she liked to dwell on.
“Do you paint?” The question of how the girl managed to come by her still did not arise in the perfumed air, though it was hard to say if it was because Odette did not mind or that she was waiting for a perfect opportunity. Perhaps she could spend time on the room, if only for other people to utilise it in their spare time. “I’m afraid I haven’t in quite some time, though it is a hobby I hope I can pick up when I’m not so busy.”
To hear that it was a gift was not disappointing, but rather simply a fact—and that did not make it any less beautiful than it already was. The painting really was rather lovely to behold and she wondered who had actually painted it, and for a moment wondered if it was in her place to ask, before her attention was diverted by the young woman mentioning, albeit a little offhandedly, that she did paint. At least at one point in her life she did, which was good enough for the blonde.
”I paint a little bit,” Naminé said, thinking back on the paints that Ace had gifted her for Christmas, the ones that she had dabbled in but not yet felt brave enough to truly touch upon just yet. One day maybe, but so far she had only done a few simple things, and nothing particularly permanent or even on the right sort of canvas. Until that day came that she could paint freely—if it ever came, because there was the chance that it never would, though she really was trying her best not to linger on that thought—she would simply have to keep the paints safe and practice diligently, and continue in her own medium.
”Mostly I sketch, though.” Ah, there was the truthful statement. As much art as there were in all of the worlds, it was rare for her all the same to meet someone else who was at least interested in art, or at least it felt rare. Then again, most of her discussions with others did not shift even close to the arts such as this one did. ”What did you paint, when you had the time?” Curiosity was too pressing for her to ignore, and she really did wonder. The young woman had mentioned previously painting, but that all of her works were back at her father’s palace… definitely someone important in that case. Though Naminé did not want to know, not at that point.
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