Corrigan’s Black Wing mother, Everrest…Work in Progress. I’ve attempted to paint her only once, which ended in complete failure (will not attempt to repost that picture). Since I’ve gotten better at portraits, I think this will come out much more realistic than past paintings. I eventually want to do a portrait of Corrigan, since he’s the least painted of all characters and most liked, so I’ve heard.
Here’s the link to the blog that contains the picture in case you can’t view here: http://wisdomnovels.blogspot.com/
Excerpt from novel:
“Everest, dear,” he greeted, holding the door open for his guest to enter the room.
It took a moment for Glory’s eyes to adjust to the dimness. The mantle contained lit candles with long strands of beads draped under each one. The bedding’s dark covers were nearly impossible to make out, save for the beads littered overtop. The same could be said for the vanity desk and mirror. It was then that she noticed a rich black plume on the desktop resembling the one she wore around her neck.
“So fair looking.” A female’s voice penetrated the silence, rich with a deep ascent that hinted another culture entirely. Shadows moved and pulled aside, of which Glory was certain she had seen feathers pull to the back of the woman as she stepped at last into the candle lit area. Amber eyes glowed in the light’s reflection, and although Glory tried not to stare, she could not help but notice the abundant of patterned tattoos under each eye, around the cheekbones, and further down the neck to the shoulders. “I should hope this isn’t business, Lorens.”
Something moved behind her back. A flash of gold, then it was gone. She raised a hand to adjust one of the beads along the mantle, her skin a dark mahogany which helped conceal her figure if out of the candle’s circle of light.
“Not this time, my dear,” Mr. Schevolsky’s tone softened with the conversation. “May I introduce to you the Lady Elite.” He swept a hand in Glory’s direction. “Do you mind helping her find something more…suitable to her tastes?”
“I’ll be waiting outside.” Mr. Schevolsky bowed to Glory before retreating from the room.
Left alone with the unusually tall woman, Glory shivered slightly when she felt those eyes upon her. She turned to be greeted with a gentle smiled, and was offered a seat while the woman moved back into shadow. There was a rustling of fabric and several clicks as racks were shoved aside.
“Do you not need a light?” Glory asked after a few moments. “How can you possibly see in the dark?”
“I’ve learned to adjust,” came the reply. The sound of tugging clothing, then a swinging of a rack yielded a sigh of triumph. She returned shortly with a gown as lovely as the ones Glory would have worn at home. “This might do. It would compliment such pretty hair.”
Glory blushed as she accepted the dress. A folding panel nearby provided the perfect place to change, with enough light shining through the cracks so Glory could make final adjustments.
“It fits perfectly!” She stepped out to admire the jeweled gown in the mirror. The simple white pattern did compliment her dark hair.
“I rarely misjudge the figure.” Everest moved behind the girl to inspect the selection. The neck was not as high as the other garment, and easily revealed the feather around the girl’s neck. That caused a grin. “It’s quite unusual to find someone of wealth wearing feathers, my dear.”
Glory lifted a hand to cover it. When she turned away from the mirror, she gasped at what she realized was a wing moving behind the woman.
“You’re a harpy!” She stared as the woman spread both wings. “But…why so short?” It was not until she realized the wings had been cut at the joint that she regretted the comment. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I speak before thinking.” She lifted her eyes to the taller woman’s face. Black lips smiled back.
“Black Wings pride themselves for their wings. But not to worry. I’m a slave no longer.” The woman gently lifted the girl’s necklace. “This one looks about finished.” She let it slip between her fingers as she released it. “It must mean something to you, doesn’t it? There’s no human who would wear the mark of slavery, let alone a Black Wing’s feather.”
“At the time, it had been from another slave.” Glory watched the woman bring a wing around to pluck a feather, a rich black to the raggedy looking one Glory wore. It did not take long to fasten the feather to a silver chain used for her beads.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Glory admired the bead draped over the feather to add more appeal.
“A feather lost is a gain for me. I become more human that way.” She gestured to the door. “Lorens will be waiting for you. Better hurry before he starts worrying.”
Glory laughed. “Why would he worry? He knows I’m with you.”
Everest only smiled and opened the door for her.
“When I asked if this was business, it’s because you’re what I eat.”