Chapter Twenty-Four: The Price of Being Seen
The courier arrived at midday.
No fanfare. No announcement.
Just a knock and an envelope handed to the housekeeper with a subtle, "For Ms. Marceau only."
Lena was in the solarium, brushing dust from a rolled canvas when the envelope was set on the table beside her. The air smelled like sun-warmed wood and lavender. She didn’t move to open it right away.
The handwriting on the front was precise. Elegant. Her full name in black ink—Lena Marceau—not preceded by any title or postscript.
It looked like something from an older world.
She unsealed it slowly.
Inside were three items:
– a formal invitation from the Palais des Beaux-Arts in Paris
– a letter, handwritten
– a proposed itinerary for a six-month artist-in-residence program
She sca
