Souvenir

As they ventured further at the corner of the shop, Matthew's eyes widened as he caught sight of the increasingly risqué figurines. He quickly stepped in, placing a hand on Elias's shoulder and steering him away from the explicit carvings, "Alright, I think this section is off-limits for minors," he said, his voice filled with amusement but also a touch of concern, "Not suitable for kids."

Ezra, who had been laughing, suddenly covered her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles, "I can't believe someone made these," she managed to say between bursts of laughter, "And who would buy them?"

Elias shook his head in bewilderment, "I have no idea, and I don't want to know." he replied, feeling a mix of discomfort and curiosity.

Ezra, still giggling, nodded in agreement, "Agreed," she said, wiping away a tear of mirth from the corner of her eye, "Let's find something less scandalous to look at."

They continued to explore the shop, moving away from the King-themed figurines. Elias couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief as they ventured into a more conventional section filled with beautifully crafted animals and nature-inspired pieces.

Ezra carefully picked up a finely carved black cat figurine, her fingers tracing the intricate details of the sculpture, "I'm fond of cats," she explained, her voice carrying a hint of nostalgia, "They have this mysterious aura about them, don't they? Like they know something we don't. It also reminds me of the Queen."

Matthew nodded, appreciating the craftsmanship of the figurine, "It's beautifully made," he remarked, his eyes lingering on the delicate curves of the cat's form, "But why does it remind you of the Queen?"

Ezra smiled, her expression a mix of mischief and irony, "Well," she began, her tone teasing, "just like cats, the Queen has her own enigmatic charm. She's elusive, keeps her own counsel, and you never really know what she's thinking. Plus, she always wears those sleek black gowns, much like this cat figurine."

Matthew chuckled, understanding the comparison, "A fitting metaphor," he agreed, a playful glint in his eyes, "Cats are known for their independence, and the Queen certainly embodies that quality."

"Um, sir," Ezra raised her hand, "I'd like to take this black cat, please." 

The shopkeeper, a man in his mid-30's with a warm smile, approached Ezra. She carefully wrapped the black cat figurine in soft cloth and placed it in a small box, then handed it to Ezra. 

"Two shillings, dear." He said. 

Ezra reached into her small purse and counted out the required shillings, then handed them to the shopkeeper. 

"Here you go, dear," he said kindly, "May it bring you joy and remind you of the enigmatic charm of cats."

"Thank you," she said with a polite nod, cradling the boxed figurine in her hands.

Ezra thanked the shopkeeper and turned to Elias and Matthew with a triumphant grin, "I've found my souvenir from Thistlebrook," she declared, cradling the boxed figurine in her arms. She looked at Elias, "How about you, have you picked a souvenir?"

Elias's eyes widened slightly, he liked the King's figurine at most, but he just can't point it out. He shook his head along his sheepish smile in response. Ezra cocked her eyebrow, "Why not? C'mon, I'll pay for it."

Elias hesitated for a moment, torn between his desire to have a keepsake from their outing and the lingering embarrassment from their encounter with the King's suggestive figurines. He appreciated Ezra's offer, but he couldn't bring himself to select one of those particular figurines.

"Thank you, Ezra, but I think I'll pass on the souvenir for now," he replied with a small, appreciative smile, "I'd rather not pick something that reminds me of... certain things."

"Alright then." Ezra surrendered. 

Just as Ezra was distracted by her souvenir, He saw the Marquis— holding 4 suggestive figurines of the King. One was the first figure he saw, the sitting position in a suggestive pose (which he liked the most), next was the pose which seemed like the King was off to bathe, his clothes are barely on his body, while the other two was positioned on the throne, a crown on his head as he sat with different types of suggestive poses.

Elias stood there, flustered and too stunned to speak, his mind reeling with disbelief. Is he really going to buy those? he wondered, his face turning a shade of red that matched the autumn leaves around them. His eyes were wide as he watched the Marquis hand over the money, purchasing the figurines without a hint of hesitation.

Before Elias could even react, the Marquis made the purchase, casually handing over above 10 shillings, the shopkeeper seemed quite pleased with the choice, "Excellent choice, Marquis," the shopkeeper remarked with a knowing smile, clearly aware of the nature of the figurine. He wrapped the figurines carefully, "These are some of our most popular items, especially among collectors."

What?! It's popular??? Elias is going insane.

Elias was left utterly flabbergasted by the turn of events. The fact that the figurines were popular among collectors only added to his bewilderment. He couldn't help but wonder who on earth would collect such suggestive pieces of art.

Matthew simply nodded, seemingly unperturbed by the suggestive nature of the figurines. He turned to Elias, his expression a mix of amusement and mischief, "Well, Elias, it looks like I've found my souvenirs from Thistlebrook," he said, holding up the small bag containing the figurines.

Ezra, who had turned back from her purchase and overheard their conversation, burst into laughter, "Oh, this is too good," she exclaimed, struggling to control her amusement, "The Marquis collecting... those."

"Elias, you didn't like any?" Matthew asked, fixing his half-framed glasses.

Elias cleared his throat, trying to find the right words without sounding too judgmental, "Well, Marquis, the selection was... quite unique," he said diplomatically, his cheeks still flushed from the earlier encounter, "I suppose I was expecting more traditional souvenirs, but I understand that art comes in many forms."

Matthew merely chuckled at Elias's response, seemingly unbothered by the implication, "Indeed, art is a reflection of the diversity of human expression," he said thoughtfully, "Each piece, no matter how unconventional, tells a story. Even the suggestive ones."

Ezra, who had been listening intently, couldn't help but interject, her tone mischievous, "Oh, I'm sure those figurines tell quite the story, Marquis. A story that I don't think I want to hear."

Matthew laughed softly, his silver hair catching the light as he shook his head, "Some stories are best left to the imagination," he said with a wink, "Now, shall we continue our exploration of Thistlebrook? I'm sure there are more intriguing finds waiting for us."

As they exited the figurine shop, Elias tried to shake off the lingering discomfort from the encounter. He couldn't help but wonder about the kind of person who would willingly buy such suggestive figurines, let alone display them openly. However, he decided to put the incident behind him, focusing instead on the other intriguing aspects of Thistlebrook.

Their stroll led them past a portrait shop, and a particular portrait caught Elias's eye. It was an exceptionally detailed painting of the King, capturing his regal demeanor and enigmatic aura. The artist had skillfully captured every nuance of the King's expression, from the intensity in his lavender eyes to the slight curve of his lips.

Ezra, noticing Elias's interest, nudged him playfully, "What do you think? Impressive, isn't it? The artist truly captured the essence of the King."

Elias nodded in agreement, unable to tear his gaze away from the portrait. He blurted out unconsciously, "He's beautiful." 

Ezra grinned mischievously, clearly enjoying Elias's momentary lapse in composure, "Oh, looks like someone's smitten," she teased, elbowing Elias playfully. 

Elias stammered, trying to regain his composure, "I-I didn't mean it that way. I just meant the artistry is beautiful," he protested, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Matthew, observing the playful banter, interjected with a chuckle, "Art has a way of evoking emotions, Elias. It's a testament to the artist's skill that the painting could elicit such a reaction."

Ezra continued to tease, her eyes dancing with amusement, "Come on, Elias, no need to be shy. We all know the King is handsome. It's not a crime to appreciate beauty, even if it's the King's."

Elias sighed in resignation, realizing he was outnumbered in this playful conversation, "Fine, fine, he's handsome," he admitted, his tone laced with humor, "Can we move on now? I'd rather not stand here blushing like a schoolgirl."

Matthew walked close to the portrait, "Would you mind strolling inside, Elias? I like the King's portrait, I might buy one or two?" Then he chuckled, entering the store alone. It is up to the two whether they'll enter or not.

First, Ezra followed.

Intrigued, Elias followed in as well.

Inside the portrait shop, a myriad of paintings adorned the walls, showcasing various figures from Landroich's history, including royalty, scholars, and heroes. The air was thick with the scent of oil paints and varnish, creating an atmosphere of creativity and artistry. They found themselves surrounded by an array of beautifully crafted artworks, each capturing the likeness of various notable figures from Landroich's history. Portraits of kings, queens, generals, and even famous artists adorned the walls.

Matthew examined the different paintings with keen interest, his discerning eye assessing the quality of each piece. Meanwhile, Ezra was drawn to a portrait of a renowned poet, her eyes shining with admiration as she read the accompanying description.

Elias, however, remained captivated by the portraits of the King, which were displayed prominently among the others. Each one was meticulously detailed, showcasing the King in various regal poses, his eyes exuding a sense of authority and wisdom.

Ezra glanced over at Elias, a teasing glint in her eye, and whispered, "I dare you to buy one of the King's portraits and hang it in your room."

Elias rolled his eyes but couldn't help but chuckle at the suggestion, "I don't think that's a good idea," he replied, "I'd rather not have the King staring at me every night."

Matthew, overhearing their conversation, chuckled softly, "It might make for an interesting conversation piece," he commented.

Elias shook his head in amusement, "I'll pass on that idea, thank you."

Elias felt a chill run down his spine as he stared at the portraits in the King's section. The familiarity of the scenes depicted, especially those from the King's coronation and the moment he received the Royal Crest, sent shivers through him. It was as if he had witnessed those moments before, a strange and unsettling sense of déjà vu washing over him.

Matthew's whistle broke Elias from his thoughts. He turned his attention to the Marquis, only to be directed to another section of artwork tucked away in the corner of the store. Elias's eyes widened in astonishment and discomfort as he realized the nature of the paintings before him. They were explicit, suggestive artworks that left little to the imagination, capturing the King in compromising positions.

Ezra let out an exaggerated gasp, her hand flying to her mouth in mock scandal, "Well, aren't these... bold?" she said, trying to stifle a laugh.

Matthew teased, "I wonder if the King wears his white stockings that way.." he said, glancing at Elias, who seemed torn between discomfort and fascination.

Elias subconsciously turned his attention to the portrait as he heard the Marquis.

In the quiet corners of the art store, the portrait seemed to come to life. His form was relaxed yet commanding, draped in the soft glow of morning light that filtered through the curtains. The delicate brush strokes painted a scene where the King, still in his nightgown, stood with one leg lifted, his foot perched on a stool while he fastened his white stocking. 

His raven hair cascaded in lazy waves, framing his profile in a way that accentuated his sharp features. One shoulder peeked out from the crook of his collarbone, adding a touch of vulnerability to the otherwise confident posture. The King's expression was one of concentration, his half-lidded eyes fixed on his task, giving him an air of quiet sensuality. 

The portrait seemed to capture the King's effortless sensuality, frozen in time for all to admire. It was a glimpse into a private moment, a side of the King that the world rarely saw. 

Elias found himself utterly captivated by the portrait, his eyes tracing the intricate details, almost as if he was drawn into the very scene the artist had painted. There was an intimacy to the way the King was depicted, a vulnerability that Elias hadn't expected. It was as if the portrait had peeled away the layers of regality, revealing the person beneath the crown.

Feeling a mix of emotions, he tore his gaze away, glancing at Matthew, whose teasing expression had softened into something more thoughtful. "It's... remarkable," Elias managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper, "I've never seen him like this."

"Well, now you did." Matthew replied with a sly smile.

Ezra chimed in, giggling, "Would you rather hang this in your room instead?"

Elias blushed furiously at the suggestion, shaking his head vigorously. "Absolutely not," he stammered, "I don't think that would be appropriate."

Matthew chuckled, placing his hands to Elias's shoulders as he steered him away to the portrait, "Now, now, why not search for more portraits? Ezra, I think I saw a portrait of the Queen right over to the left corner, you two might wanna check it."

I'm not even a fan of the Queen. Elias rolled his eyes inwardly.

Ezra's eyes lit up with curiosity at the mention of the Queen's portrait, "Oh, let's go check it out!" she exclaimed, abruptly snatching Elias's wrist and leading the way toward the left corner of the shop.

As they walked away, Matthew turned his attention back to the shopkeeper, a pleasant smile on his lips. "I'll take the King's portrait," he said, his tone casual yet decisive, "Have it delivered to my manor by the end of the week."

The shopkeeper, clearly delighted with the purchase, nodded eagerly, "Of course, Marquis. It will be carefully packed and sent to your residence without delay. You won't be disappointed."

With the transaction completed, Matthew rejoined Elias and Ezra at the Queen's corner, where they were examining a portrait of the Queen in regal attire, her expression composed and regal.

"I must admit, the artist captured her essence quite well," Matthew remarked, his eyes lingering on the painting, "Ezra, what do you think?"

Ezra, always eager to voice her opinions, chimed in, "She looks like she's about to order someone's execution. Intimidating, but powerful. I like it."

Elias, although not particularly interested in the Queen, nodded in agreement, "Yes, it's a powerful portrayal," he said, appreciating the artistry even if he didn't share Ezra's enthusiasm for the subject matter.

In the dimly lit confines of the King's study, the air was heavy with anticipation. The King, draped in royal robes, sat behind his ornate desk, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the polished wood. The room was adorned with tapestries depicting epic battles and ancient legends, adding an air of grandeur to the otherwise somber atmosphere.

The door to the study opened, and the palace staff ushered in the two children, a boy and a girl. They were clearly apprehensive, their eyes wide with uncertainty as they stepped into the room. The girl clutched her brother's hand tightly, a protective gesture that did not go unnoticed by the King.

At once, the King stood up from his desk, slowly approaching the two. When he got closer, his lavender eyes widened, his throat quickly felt very dry as he tried to call the boy.

But no sound came out of his mouth. His heart was racing and his breath was short. He was struggling to keep his composure.

But how is that possible? How did he end up with the thief's family, when he himself did not match the family's lineage… how did…

The King takes a deep breath as he tries to compose himself. He is unable to believe that this is actually happening – the boy he rescued in Feigan, now standing right in front of him.

He takes a step closer, his eyes locked on the boy's silver, almond-shaped eyes, his throat feeling dry and tight, "Arama?"