Pale Painter Ch. 04

Duke Adurant's head was wrapped up in thick cloth, but when he turned to his wife, Rosanda saw his eyes. He really looked like he had suffered dearly. It seemed that the main purpose of the cloth was warmth, and not to hide his appearance, because once he saw his wife's disapproving face, he pulled some of the fabric down to reveal his nose and mouth.

The poor man looked like something from a nightmare.

He was smiling, though.

"Is this Miss Lunai? I'm glad to meet you." He nodded at Rosanda's curtsy. Then he turned to his wife. "Good afternoon, Darling."

"Erdgar! Couldn't you play indoors? The weather is hateful, absolutely hateful!"

Rosanda silently noted that Andreo was every bit as bundled up as his father, or perhaps even slightly more, and he was using his mitten covered fingertips to scoop snow onto the white hill, revealing dark earth as he did so. His little head was wrapped up, but his eyes were exposed, just as his father's had been. They were happy little eyes, focused and bright.

Duke Adurant leaned in and patted his wife's cheek with a gloved hand. "I wrapped his face and put a thicker cloak around him. He won't suffer, Danetta."

A lock of curled hair fell from under the duchess' hood. Her lower lip pouted out as she looked up at the man.

Her husband kissed her brow. "He needs the fresh air, even if it's cold."

Duchess Adurant made a whimpering, whining noise, and then she asked, "What are you two building?"

"A hut for snow spirits," the man replied. His fingertips drummed on her face. "Don't fret over him, Darling. I won't let him cool overlong. I promise. Besides, I have a surprise for him."

After he said that, Andreo paused from his work. His boots crunched down snow as he walked up to his father. He tugged on the man's breeches. Duke Adurant crouched down and looked down at the boy. "Hm? Do you want to know what the surprise is?"

The boy didn't turn his head up to look at his father. He only nodded. The master of the estate's great hand gently tapped the boy's head. Then the man straightened back up into a standing position. "They should be here by now." He looked around, and then he waved at someone. "There you are! Bring them here!"

Rosanda looked in the direction of the duke's gesture. There were two men carrying little sleds.

"Oh no!" Duchess Adurant's tiny boot scrunched the snow as she stomped her foot down. "He'll crash into a tree and die!"

Andreo didn't crash into a tree and die, but his mother whined as if he were about to any minute. Despite her protesting, though, she didn't interfere as her husband led the boy onto little hills and pushed him down. She didn't interfere as the grown man got onto a sled and kicked himself away as the boy watched and giggled. She didn't even interfere when the man decided they should share a sled, with the boy tucked between his father's thighs.

"Please, Dear Husband! Let him come into the keep!"

Rosanda laughed at the mistress' complaints, and she even dared to say, "When the Master is determined to play with his son, there is no stopping him."

The handmaidens only sipped at hot cider, choosing not to comment on anything.

When Duke Adurant announced that he feared for his son's health, he scooped up the child and cradled him to his chest, as if he were carrying a much smaller infant. Poor little Andreo squirmed and groaned, but, as usual, he didn't say a word.

"Ah, don't grouse to me, Little Button." Apparently, that was one of his terms of endearment for the boy.

Confidently, affectionately, the man carried his son towards the nearest entrance to the keep, smiling all the way.

Rosanda and the handmaidens followed a sagging duchess and a content duke into the keep and all the way to the nursery. The nanny hurried to get the boy out of his outerwear, to keep him from overheating.

To Andreo's quiet joy, the father remained for a few minutes to play a bit more. They focused on spinning tops of expensive woods.

When that entertaining business was done, Duke Adurant went to his knees, kissed the child's cheek, tilted his little head up with his fingers and said, "Button? Little Button? Do you know who I am?"

This question confused Rosanda, but she didn't want to offend anyone. So, she said nothing about it.

The little boy's eyes were noticeably pointed away from his father's face, even as the large, scarred hand kept his face up.

Duke Adurant sighed. He released the child's face, but he said, "Tell me. Do you know who I am?"

Andreo nodded.

The duchess went to her husband and gripped his shoulder. "There's no need to worry, Erdgar! He knows you! Let him be for now. I want to show Miss Lunai how clever he is with his pretty drawings."

Duke Adurant ignored her. "Come now, Andreo. Who am I? Tell me."

The boy looked down at his little shoes and waved his hands about in frustration, making soft little noises. Then he ran away to a small desk littered with sloppy, yet charming, doodles on paper. He yanked one of the papers away and went back up to his father. He pointed at something he had apparently drawn some time ago.

The drawing was of four people. It was crude, but colorful. All the faces, though, seemed to be empty shapes, no eyes, no noses, and no mouths.

There were two women. Rosanda assumed they were the duchess and the nanny. There was a smaller person. Rosanda assumed that was meant to be Andreo's little self portrait. Then there was what seemed to be a man with little swirling lines on his egg of a head and his hands. Andreo's little finger was pointing at that man as he held the paper up to the duke's deformed face.

Duke Adurant smiled, but his voice was breaking as he said, "That's fine, Andreo. That's a lovely drawing, but can you say the word? Can you say Papa?"

The boy lowered the drawing. Then he let it slip out of his fingers and quietly flutter to the floor. He shrugged.

"Please Erdgar, let him be."

Duchess Adurant stepped back as her husband rose. He patted the boys head and said, "It's all well, Son. Papa's going to leave you now, so be nice and sweet for our guest."

Then he left the room.

But ...

But as he walked down the hall, everyone in the room heard him curse roughly, hoarsely, as if he was about to cry.

It was then that Rosanda realized that Andreo was at an age when he should be speaking, and fairly clearly too.

***