Satisfied with the piece thus far, Rene returned to her easel and began tidying up her paints and soaking her brushes to keep them from drying out. Collecting the stool on which she sat, she relocated it to sit closer to Persephone, taking advantage of the respite herself. It was easy to become so engrossed in a piece when one stared at it for hours on end. Breaking up the tunnel vision it created often brought clarify and fresh perspective, something Rene did often to prevent the narrowed landscape of focus from unwittingly skewing the greater picture she was encompassing. Crossing her tiny feet at the ankle and tucking them beneath her chair, the demure blonde inhaled deeply, letting the brine of the air blowing in from the sea fill her lungs.

“Your skills come highly recommended.”

She had to smile, still a bit shyly, but less so than among a complete stranger. Emerging from the adjacent courtyard and gardens, one of the school’s student attendants came trotting, carrying an earthenware pitcher of cool water, and with cups to match, the density and material of the pottery working as a natural insulator. Offering one to each, Rene mouthed a quick thank you with polite nod before enjoying the refreshment.

“It flatters me so when such kind words reach my ears. It is an honor to have one’s name traded in the highest of places. I hope my craft is as worthy as the praises sung of it,” Rene replied. “Some of my aspirations may be lofty. I hope my art is not.”

As the topic of said art came to bear, Rene’s smile might have thinned a little, as one tended to do when self-doubt bubbled up from the desperate attempts one made to bury it.

“And how do you address them?”

A fair question. “Well, my father said the best way to conquer fear is to face it,” the blonde replied, one slender shoulder bumping in the most faint of shrugs. “This particular project I am working on is a means of doing so, but in a fashion that is relevant to me, while still able to make a lovely piece,” she started to explain, noting the nervous gestures and mannerisms that Persephone employed.

“What insecurities might that be?”

It was Rene’s turn to be a bit fidgeting in her seat. Admitting her paralyzing fear was especially challenging given the very family she hailed from. “My family does not know this, but I am afraid of the water. Can you imagine what they would think, the daughter of fortunes made by sea, fearful of the water,” she answered. “I cannot swim, and it terrifies me.” Contemplative blue eyes wandered off to the vast water beyond Persephone, watching it sway and dance and shift, beautiful and mesmerizing as it was, but deadly. Like fire, in Rene’s mind. “So I thought, I would paint a body of water, reflective of my fear of it, but having you in front of it is symbolic of the effort to overcome that. In this painting, you are a the symbolic representation of what is required to defeat one’s fears; poise, grace, determination, unflinching bravery, out in front of the water, as you are not behind it, nor beside it, nor in it. But out in front. The place where leaders are found. What are we if not leaders of our own lives? So your agreement to be a part of my project is inspirational, and encouraging. For me. And I think you for that.”

A warm smile resumed its place on Rene’s picturesque features. “How do you address your insecurities?” The question was in earnest, as Rene was hardly capable of conspiring or exploiting weakness. “How does a princess overcome her fear?”

Rene wasn’t as close to Persephone as she was Emilia, and while she found the older sister to be more aloof and closed off, she’d still spent enough time around them to know how Persephone operated at least to some degree. She was not nearly as open as Emilia, and while harder to read, she still bore the look of one who was troubled. As such, Rene made no efforts to push topics or force conversation. And Persephone herself was no stranger to observing the inadequacies in Rene, easily finding her insecurities. Yet, unlike with many others, Rene did not feel threatened by such. Perhaps it was her long standing closeness with Emilia that had fortified a relationship bereft of fear of vulnerability. Growing up with Emilia, and around the Xanthos, Rene associated them as some kind of extended family of sorts. Persephone, despite her reserve and fortified walls she’d constructed around herself, offered bits here and there. An appreciation for art was one thing Rene could easily chat up.

“The praise is well warranted. And I may have further need of your artistic abilities. I have a soft spot in my heart for my home province of Arcana. I tend to miss the tranquil lake and the small groves when I reside at the royal palace. So I may call upon you to bring some of my province to life on a wall in my room.”

The idea was exciting, and the petite little blonde bubbled in her seat. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, to preserve memories. I would be honored to help you realize your vision,” she answered emphatically. The piece she currently worked on was no commission, but rather a project for the academy, though a commission from Persepehone, Princess of Athenia was nothing if not the most wondrous of feathers in her proverbial cap.

As the conversation took a more serious turn, Rene’s warm smile and kind eyes flattened a bit, her fear being laid out before them and questioned. She worked hard not to squirm and manifest any discomfort in the notion, as it was always incredibly difficult for one to have their flaws and faults laid before them and picked apart by others.

“I cannot imagine what terrifies you about water. Is it all bodies of water or the sea specifically? Surely you don’t dread a calm lake?”

“They are deep, one cannot see the bottom, what things might lurk,” she answered, her voice growing more small. “I cannot swim. I do not want to go under.” It was hard to describe, her paralyzing fear of water. And she wasn’t entirely comfortable doing it, but….this project was specifically to address such a thing, and as Persephone had agreed to be a part of that project, Rene would be as open about it as she could. “I am afraid when my feet touch things I cannot see, as if something terrible is there. Fountains and things are fine. They are very shallow. I can see the bottom. I suppose I have just never learned, and …..” her voice trailed off, rolling away like the breeze across the surface of the water. How did one who was born to sea merchants tell them she feared the water? One couldn’t.

“I believe we often have the least control of our own lives. But I appreciate that you find me a representation of confidence and overcoming insecurities. There are enough insecurities to keep you awake at night when charged with the administration of a kingdom. But it is the same insecurities and the responsibility of the nation’s welfare that help me overcome mine.”

A small smile was revisited upon Rene’s sweet lips. “I thank you for participating in this exercise in therapy, as it were,” she answered in kind. Once more her lovely facade became more serious, more introspective. When Rene spoke, she meant every word. Her head canted, as she pushed a few blonde locks back from her face where the wind had swept them. “I cannot imagine what it must be like, to be tasked with running a kingdom,” she began carefully, guarded even. “But think of all the wonderful things you do, for your people, for the world. One day, you could be on the throne, and imagine what great accomplishment that would be. There are so many dreams I have, so many aspirations, all hindered by our gender. You know as well as I how difficult it is, to get beyond that glass ceiling. Maybe one day, you will take down that glass ceiling, so that our fair gender everywhere might enjoy the privileges that men do, the opportunities that men do. What an amazing thing it must be, to stand at such a precipice.”

Princess Persephone had never been as open and emotional as her sister Emilia. The younger Xanthos more perfectly matched Rene in being relatively open with her thoughts and feelings, assertive and direct, yet composed and refined. Persephone had always been far more distant in Rene’s observations, more reserve and guarded. As the oldest and next in line, it made sense that the young woman was more preoccupied with the looming responsibilities of following in her father’s footsteps, at least in some capacity. It warmed her little soul a bit to see Persephone taking time for small things; sitting for a painting, enjoying the warmth of the Apollo’s chariot in the sky, admiring the flowers and so on. “Have you ever tried painting? You are a passionate and endearing person. You care about so many things, intently, that it reflects in everything about you. I would have no doubt that Her Highness’ penchant for dedication would manifest itself in her leisurely pursuits as well,” Rene commented. “I would love to do this commission for you. Should you ever find yourself compelled to pick up an artist’s brush, or a piece of charcoal and parchment, I sincerely hope you do. You might surprise yourself.”

When Persephone spoke next, Rene tried not to fidget in her seat, succeeding in remaining still, but taking on the appearance of one who was visibly uncomfortable, even for a moment.

'It is certainly surprising considering your ancestry.'

The petite blonde exhaled, letting go with it all of her angst and woe. This was something she worked on, continuously. A life without improvement, in one’s craft, or one’s self, was a life plagued by haughtiness and potential consternation of the gods. It suggested that one fully believed there was nothing to improve upon, which was a declaration of superiority that rivaled the gods, a foolish position to take for certain. “My family does not know,” she confessed to Persephone, requiring no small amount of courage to do so. That a family of merchant marines had yielded a daughter who deathly feared the water was nothing if not shameful, and Rene could not bear to shame her loved ones so. She’d managed to keep that outright fact hidden for all of her years, by some miracle. It was on account of her isolation as the utter baby of the family that she had done so, she assumed.

'Have you ever considered learning how to swim?'

As usual, Persephone found the rational solution to such a problem. It made Rene giggle a little, covering her mouth. “Well, yes, but I cannot do this around my estate or family. They will see that I have but a foot in the water and little else.” Rene shrugged her sun-kissed shoulders lightly. “One day I would very much like to learn.” The subject of self reflection circled back around, causing introspection within Persephone as she eked out a bit of her own concerns, and ergo ipso facto, a confession of her own.

It is too early still to even hope. I am glad, though, that you have confidence in me.”

“You can do this,” Rene assured her. “You will do it,” Rene nodded once. “My father says the best way to conquer our fears is to throw our hearts towards them first, and then jump after them.”