the paint is, frankly, everywhere. he knows it’s not the best time for this - this being “hiding” away in the red keep’s courtyard, which is now filled with a few empty canvases and a few paint pallets and one very messy spilled paint jar - since everyone has been arriving all week, but that’s the very reason he’d come ; being watched so closely was unnerving, and painting helped ( though his father is undoubtedly rolling in his grave ) just enough to move along. it isn’t until eliar notices a figure entering the courtyard that he sighs, flatly, and eyes them with an insouciant look. “ spare me any judgmental words, will you ? ” he says with a short sigh, shrugging nonchalantly and sitting on a nearby bench, trusting that a servant will be by soon to clean up the mess. “ this mess isn’t nearly as pressing as the one in here. ” he points to his head, jabbing his finger slightly into his temple.
