Alessio returned to his bedroom after dinner, eyes clouded, mind filled. He knew little of the issues in the Blackwood Royal family, but he instinctively knew that a good deal of them revolved around Eleanor's death.
Hours later, much later than he usually retired to bed, the crease between Alessio's brows finally eased as he sank into his pillows.
Despite the late hour he had gone to bed, Alessio roused uncharacteristically early the next morning, cleaning up and right away busying himself without bothering about breakfast.
He wanted to pay a visit to Silvan, but he held back, it wasn't that he didn't believe his mother's words, he merely wanted to see for himself.
Carefully going through a stack of well-kept paintings that had just been stowed away, Alessio took out all the paintings of Eleanor he had, which weren't many, the bulk came from the replicas he had tried to recreate.
