Deliberately he began to unhook his vest, waiting for her to speak again.
“Something happened-” she said then. “Something’s troubling you.”
He draped his vest across another chair and sat down in it with a sigh.
“Gilla, what would you say to the idea of leaving Sanctuary?” Beyond her he
could see his first study for the picture of Sabellia which graced the great
Temple now. Gilla had been his model, and for a moment he saw a double image of
woman and Goddess, and her bulk took on a monumental dignity.
She put down her arm and sat up straight. “Now, when we are secure at last?”
“How secure can anyone be, here?” He hunched forward, running stubby craftsman’s
fingers through his thinning hair. Then he told her how they had praised his
picture, and what the future Lord Raximander had offered him.
“Ranke!” she exclaimed when he had finished. “Clean streets and quiet nights!
But what would I do there? All the fine ladies would laugh at me….” For a
moment she looked curiously vulnerable, despite her size. Then her eyes met his.
“But you said he wanted a portrait-Lalo, you can’t do that-you’ll end up in the
Imperial dungeons, not the court!”
“Even there? Surely there must be some honest men and virtuous women at the
heart of the Empire!” Lalo said wistfully.
“Will you never grow up? We are doing very well as we are-you have a position,
people like what you do, and the children will be well-apprenticed and married
when the time comes. And now you want to go chase some other dream? Why can’t
you make up your mind?”