What Plans Do You Have?

Caroline sat on the chair with a desk in front of her and palmed on her lazy cheeks. She was watching the artist in a powdered wig whom she hired him to draw on the large-sized Strathmore paper board—according to her descriptive words. For now, the progress was about seventy-five percent to complete. The only missing process was defining the hair and shading it with the finest details.

Caroline was tapping on his cheeks, trying to visualize the looks of a boy. She drummed her leg and shook her head for figuring the best definition of his hair. She remembered a sharp-pointed strand on his head while his face and skin had a youthful tone on it. The artist was waiting for her instruction to finish the exact visual masterpiece.

Figuring out the dynamic word, she gaped his eyes and snapped her finger.

She said, "His hair was supposed to be spiky.... His dye was blackish. Every hair strand was facing straight upwards."

"Much similar between him and Nefastus."

Caroline heard his amusing words and smirked on behalf of it. She dropped her jaw and giggled that her chest and shoulder were heaving. The artist twirled his charcoal pencil and rubbed his chin, gazing at every tiny detail of the sketch. His drumming foot helped him to boost his eloquent immersion. He then stopped drumming and snapped his finger.

"I know. I know. I have read the Tale of Nefastus before."

"What?"

"Even if the book is considered as an archive, it reminds me of something based on a descriptive quote."

"What is it?"

Before saying his words, he inspired the air and expanded his chest, expiring the waste gas. He stroked his thumb on four fingers.

With his flamboyant voice, he spoke, "His hair was like a thorn. His strands were as sharp as a spear. His figure was formed in no match to Atlas. Though he had the looks of menace."

"That sounds intriguing… and horrifying."

"Yes," He smirked. "My mind is perfect."

"Speak of yourself. I'm imagining if that boy is really the Envoy of Sloth."

"Why?"

"One village had been massacred, and he appeared with something which Her Highness ought to be."

"Like…. Sinficar."

"I don't know if Her Highness felt that."

The artist continued drawing as he heard her sure words. With the charcoal pencil around his flexible fingers, he was lining the strand of the hair in a single fine stroke. He peered at his focus as if the eyes of the audience were feasting. Caroline was the first one, and she smiled and quivered her tapping fingers on the table. The charcoal bits portrayed the image of a spiky-haired boy in fine black shade as there were no mistaken traces left to ruin its masterpiece.

Until he finished shading the image, he clapped in a single time to call her. Caroline stood up from her chair and ambled towards the front of the paperboard. The completed masterpiece of charcoal painting dazzled her in awe.

She smiled, "What a marvelous piece."

"Does it look relatable?"

"With those young-looking flesh, it is."

He grinned from her remark. He clenched his fist and flexed his elbow in one arm. She heard and saw his cheer as if the reward awaited him.

"I applaud you," She smirked. "However, there is something I would give you more than a reward."

"What is it?.... Treasures? Services? Secrets?"

She unsheathed the dagger from her pocket, pointing the tip at him. At first, he thought of it as a present, but her callous grin and narrow eyes dreaded him to gasp. He backpedalled for a bit with his shivering legs, gaping his eyes and shaking his upward hands to block while she was ambling towards him.

"What are you going to do with me?"

She then rushed at him and struck her knife on his stomach.

He groaned and gushed out of blood from his open mouth.

"W… hy?"

"According to the third article of Inquisition, those who speak and know the name of Nefastus in front of the Church shall be executed on behalf of the Church…. The reason for your violation was speaking a quote about him. I already have redeemed myself as an Inquisitor… other than my title as 'Hero of Justice' throughout the Kingdom of Dore. Your vile words and voice made me do so."

She pulled the dagger from his pierced body and pushed him on the ground. She knelt down in front of his dying face and raised her down-gripped dagger, aiming at his throat. He was trying to utter his apology, but her rushing dagger stabbed in his neck and finished him to death.

"I hope God will judge you to the better afterlife."

She stood up and gazed at the charcoal painting. She walked towards it and rubbed it with her careful fingers. With her dazzling eyes, she smiled and chuckled as she planned to use it for a beneficial purpose.

"All I need for now is to present this in front of Her Highness."