For her part, the Baroness was diligent. Checking proportions against her thumb, moving her chalk with her gaze. Viewing both the page and Peytra at various angles as she drew. It was clear, from one artist to another, that the Baroness took this seriously and knew what she was doing. That thought didn’t make Peytra any more comfortable, however. Instead she started to have an eerie déjà vu for all the times she’d made her friends and family pose for her work. It was better, she noted, to be the maker than the thing being made.
The entire situation seemed to be one made to put her in discomfort, and Peytra wondered if this was the Baroness’s aim. It did not help that one of the Baroness’s veiled attendants was playing a harp and the other reciting traditional poetry in an effort to keep P
