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"Still they are beautiful..." he remarked, a final glance up at her face, just trying to see if there were any clues he might have missed, teasing hints about the history of the town.

He took a photo of the brass plate and then, taking a breath moved to the last picture. The dark skinned figure on the far left.

He did cast a glance back at Renard, a concerned expression to hear what had happened. "Creepy." he murmured. "It's a wonder we don't have some horror novelist beating down the door with spooky ghost answers." He forced a small smile before turning back to the paintings.

He was going to have to make some notes on that... and maybe He'd look up Bitumen and Raft of the Medusa later too.

"This is...really amazing though." He assured. "I appreciate this a lot.


He glanced over the face, the eyes, the necklace, everything, Was it sunny? Or was it... something else?

The Bass plate too would be subject to inspection because anything further he could get was better.

He had to admit he had a brief moment when he considered forwarding the picture to Jer. But that seemed rude to do here.

Sunshine, the brass felt like it confirmed the idea. He took photos; careful photos so he could flash them at other people and see if hers was the first face that game to mind. He took a breath and let it out slowly trying to stay calm. He was … pins and needles with excitement. Pictures of the heavy black necklace, the face, the eyes like somehow he might find a soul there rather than simply brush strokes.
He made sure he took another picture of this Inscription below the picture too because everything he could was going out of this house with im, on his note pad, in his head, in his phone.

He was surprised to see the painting as so… androgynous though, even with the jewelry He’d… honestly consider… wearing that.


“Sir, Who is… A. Privideniye? Is that the artist? I didn’t see a brass plate under the Jeremiah picture, but it seems like that name is under both of these. You don’t happen to know the full name do you? Do you think the artist painted all three of these?”

“That…that’s very impressive.” He conceded. “I’ll definitely have to look him up, I was wondering if it was a gentleman or a lady or… well I suppose they didn’t really site anything else back then. The…’A’ is sort of a ‘could be anything name. I’ll have to see if someone has his full name!”

Yes…maybe it was a bit touchy but … there was a tickle at the back of his neck for suspicion.

He shook his head marveling. “Do other people in the area have paintings by him? Or...maybe you just know some other people he painted, that could be a project unto its self! Maybe I’m a little…masochistic when it comes to trying to learn things but, projects like this really help me tie the pieces together.” He nodded thoughtful.

“I’m sure you understand that though, as a historian.”

He hesitated a moment then added.

"Just for my own curiosity, do you know what the missing plate said? Was it just the name or did the painting have a title?"

He jotted a note, the cairns, maybe it would ring a bell with his ‘Dads’… but now…

Though…cairn, one final glance at the painting, looking for a pile of stones, weren’t Cairns burial mounds? He hoped if that was a clue it wasn’t a detail lost to darkening paint.

Oh yes, he was going to take as much a look a round as he could. Someone lived upstairs but… was that where he’d find what he NEEDED., was there anywhere TO find anything that would feel…right?

The idea of… misbehaving so much was terrible, like ants crawling over his skin. He wandered, both looking for more paintings that might give him a further clue and…angling as casually as he could towards the stairs. Would he make it to the ‘forbidden’ zones? He doubted it…

Also he wondered if he could even hope to pretend he hadn’t known.

So…where was a sneaky way to get…to the attic in his historical houses?


The kitchen. If he had any luck he might be able to find a servant passage. The kitchen if he remembered right often connected to the servant quarters… but… how lucky was he going to be?

He stared at the rope for a moment that was almost too lucky. He took a photo just because he could and, gritting his teeth hurried up the stairs.

This was really just almost too lucky, holy cannoli. Jeremiah, the…current one not the mysterious dead one, well, he hoped not mysteriously dead… not any time soon at least, was going to KILL him.

Plus side… it was, probably not –as- bad as making deals?

He stopped there, standing in the door way – he had honestly thought that standing there, he’d still have his resolve to find out some more information on sunny, find out what made her tick or some strange secret that might help free his Guardian.

But looking into that room, the soft smell of smoke, that curious sweetness in the air that he suspected was the smell of –clove- cigarettes, and that T-shirt, that was sitting there like a written accusation.

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t step into the room. He couldn’t…intrude because it was far too human. The one …concession he made was to take his phone, zoom as well as he could on the maps and snap a few pictures before heading back down the stairs. Nerves were like a hand pressing into the back between his shoulders, a prickle of anxiety that he’d be caught. He returned, down the stairs with the door closed again so that he hoped, it wouldn't be obvious he had peered in.

Had he missed something? Probably... but, at the same time he could live with himself for the time being.


He did hesitate on the 2nd floor, biting his lip hard enough it actually hurt, he swapped to gnaw at the edge of his thumb. He was… assuming that the same person lived on both floors… but.

He stood for a moment with his hand on the door. Maybe he could … say he thought it was the servant quarters if he got caught, or maybe he could say he thought that the attic was the only area lived in.

He cracked the door open and peered in, wondering if he’d see the same… eclectic chaos as he had in the attic.

(The painting is clearly the work of A. Prividaniye. But Renard said...)