Ch 4

"Here you are," said Sibilla to an old woman in the neighborhood who had just helped by running an errand, since for her age the old woman preferred not to leave the house. Since she moved, helping the people of the neighborhood was the most important job she did, besides that she cultivated to make a living, in order to save money for food and draw, however this did not bring much money because it was just a passion of hers that few knew and she was not very talented and this worried a lot the girl who that afternoon he had to go and paint a portrait of the prince; however, by now he had already said that he would do it and there was no longer any reason to think about it, so he got ready and left for the castle.

Upon arrival at the castle Sibilla was wonderful in the face of the impetuosity of the building and she felt tiny in front of it. She landed the doors of the castle with her heart pounding and the cold shivers on her back, which made her tremble from how shy and insecure she felt now that she had passed through those iron gates.

The first to welcome her was the butler, Mike Karlsen, who having heard so much about her from the prince was very curious to know how she was like and who was it that had shaken the calm monarch so much. However, the girl did not meet her expectations of her, she sure she was cute and young but she was neither too beautiful nor was she as strong as her Highness he said, as he was shaking like a trapped rabbit, he didn't flinch anyway and greet her as his duty: "Welcome to the castle my lady" "s-greetings to you too, I'm Sibyl and I'm here for the portrait of the crown prince "replied stammering the guest who couldn't stop the shaking of her hands "I am up to date with that, please take her to him "Karlsen wondered how he was going to paint with those hands that were shaking so much, but this was none of his business anyway and he didn't have to worry about it.

The butler led her at the pergola in the garden, in which many hedges and white flowers of all kinds had been planted, white was known to be the Queen Mother's favorite color, and although she and her husband no longer lived there because they were tired and had decided to leave the prince on probation with his father's homework. At the pergola, Glen had already sat down and was waiting impatiently for Sibilla, when he arrives, after the pleasantries, the young painter asks him for details on how he wants the work to be done and asks him to sit down and stay still; not even fifteen minutes pass that the young man forgets his recommendations and asks: "how long have you been a painter?" the girl still with the pencil in her hand and her eyes on the canvas he replies without being disconcerted "for 4 years more or less" "and you have many customers" says the prince, determined to continue the conversation "no, I almost never have them, I don't advertise and I'm always very busy, so it doesn't often happen that you have a client" "Why are you always busy? Do you also do other jobs?" "Yes, I run errands for the neighborhood and so on "replies Sibilla, now surrendered to the constant questions" and before drawing what did you do? the house looked old, have you lived there since you were little? " "no, I haven't been there since I was little, let's say that I inherited it from an old woman, she had lived there since she was a child, I've only been there for five years; before I lived and I worked in a tavern on the other side of town "" how have you lived there for five years? you are so young, may I ask you how old are you? "" I'm 22 and you? "" I'm 26, but why did you work at 16? " "it's a long story. Done! well now that I have finished the draft I can go, I will color it then at home, if you pass in two weeks you can collect it "" well, bye ... " Glen replied confused by her sudden retreat and wondered if this was an artist's natural job or if it made her uncomfortable with his questions; and that was the case, Sibilla in fact, frightened by the sudden questions, she ran away as soon as she finished the job, to be able to get out of her curious clutches and go home after that turbulent afternoon and agitated by questions, the answers of which have given her nightmares for years.

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