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Chapter 102: In The Gallery-I

Elise\'s blue eyes squint at the eye of the needle, pushing the golden thread through the hole she then pulled the golden thread and resumed to embroidered the white fabric she had being sewing and paused for a moment to place the needle down and shifted her eyes to the sky that had turned gloom.

Three days had passed after the day where Elise had spoken with the Ian and she had no opportunity to meet him with the works he had as the Lord. She looked back on the white fabric she had cut and sewn into a handkerchief after Ian\'s kerchief had been torn, she had come to the market in the town thinking to make Ian a new one and hoped before the party held on the last day of the year, she would be able to finish one beautifully.

When noon came, Elise who was standing in the stairs after polishing the handles was called by and older maid who asked her to fill in the job to clean the gallery room where most paintings were kept in. As it had been a long time, she was told to be careful when entering the gallery and she didn\'t know why the older maid who had requested gave her a strange look before leaving.

Quite amount of days have passed after the incident where Nancy was kicked out of the Castle and rumors had gone awry inside the wide castle. It was hard for Elise not to know the rumors surfacing amongst the maids. With the looks the other maids gave her when she passed by them, she understand how the rumors have been bent. Other than for works, most maid avoid speaking to her with the rumors that went from one ear to another of Elise who had complained to Lord Ian that resulted to two maids being fired; without knowing that they had died now. Only most of maids know the truth about being fired was killed unless one had resign from their position. It was hard to think Ian who was known for his cruelty would simply fire a maid.

Now that Elise was branded as a tattletale, she didn\'t know if she shouldn\'t be sad about it because the truth wasn\'t like that. It seemed that people would rather hear false news but not the truth. She had come to term that rumors snowballed and that she could do nothing against it. Everyone had their own will to gossips and when gossiping was wrong it was also hard to put a stop into it. To life in the castle was harder than Elise thought. The village\'s life and the town\'s life was different and she was just getting familiar with everything.

Elise continued to walk. Her shoes made a click sound as she went to the highest floor of the castle, the third floor. It was Elise\'s first time to be on the third floor and her eyes took its time to travel around. Unlike the first or second floor, the room was considerably brighter to avoid molds as the place were rarely used. She then moved to the right passage where it was a long corridor.

Curiously, Elise walk to the corridor trying to find and end when sees at the end of the corridor was not a wooden wall but a wall made out of brick. "What\'s this?" she mumbled. Only this wall is different, thought Elise and she wondered why. The stones were filled with dust and molds. There was also a sense of eeriness she felt from the place. The wall on her left and right was made with wounds and somewhat she felt as if she could push the wall open. Elise bring her hand forward, stopping at the wall to push but her fingers stopped.

On a second thought, Elise felt like she shouldn\'t push or open this wall which she didn\'t. Elise then turn her back from the corridor, her black skirt swung as she make her way away from the place to the gallery. At the same time, the shadow in front of the stone wall subtly shifted. There was still many things Elise didn\'t know about White Mansion and she was still at the beginning.

Once Elise arrived to the gallery, with a broomstick on her hand, she turned the knob and walked in. The place were pitch black. It was noon and the sun was high up on the sky but the room felt as if it was nighttime. In between the dark, Elise walked slowly. The last thing she want to do is to knock around things in this very room where it was her first time coming to. Feeling unfamiliar with the room, Elise felt her surrounding like a blind person. She walked from the corner and her hands felt metallic sculpture that she guessed to be painting frames. She continued to move until she felt the texture of the curtain. Pulling the curtain open, bright light glared at her eyes.

Elise covered her eyes, not used with the very bright light and looked around to see the dusts flying around the room like a brown color snowflakes. She felt her nose itch and rubbed it slowly. Letting go of the broomstick, she walked around the room, gazing at all the paintings kept in the room.

There were paintings of landscapes, the skies, the Sea Elise had never seen before, people, market, and the castle itself. There were paintings that fascinated her the most, the painting of the Sea and and old village. As the paintings inside the room varied, the village didn\'t stood out than the rest but it caught Elise\'s eyes. The village reminded her of her aunt\'s home in Runalia. It was almost similar with forest around the village and the small house with brown bricks. A sense of nostalgia filled her, the painting make her feel connected to even when she had less good memories in that place.

She continue to walk, to enjoy the view, she padded her path very slowly with her eyes staying clear at the paintings that were filling the tall wall all the way almost reaching to the ceiling. The more she gazed on the portrait, she wondered who the painter was? The painter must be a well-known one in the land with the skill they had in store. Down to the smallest details such as reflections and shadows were made carefully that make her feel as if she was watching the scene happening right in front of her eyes.

All portrait was clearly painted by one single person. Elise\'s then shifted her gaze to the corner of the painting. Usually there would be a sign or the painter\'s name on the lower right corner of the painting but she found none. She wanted to touch the paint but it was still wet and shiny, possibly the painter use oil paints and she remembered someone told her that oil paints take months or even years to dry.

When Elise finally reach the corner of the room, she stopped until she sees couple of paintings placed backward to face the wall as if to stop people from staring at it. She walked to the painting, reaching her hand out the the furthest painting to have it on her arm and her eyes stopped to see it was Master Ian\'s portrait.