Dressed in pantaloons and bloused shirt, the king stood slightly off-center, a huge pit of darkness carefully positioned over his right shoulder beyond his peacock-feathered hat. The Duchess Elizabeth looked over the countenance of her boorish relative and wondered if he ever realized the open contempt with which the artist immortalized him. Then she turned her head as a distant panel on the wall swung silently open. There was the glimpse of a torch-lit corridor beyond, and then the light vanished as a huge form emerged from the hidden passageway. Pianessa walked forward without a smile or sound, and Elizabeth lifted a glass of wine that he accepted stoically before collapsing in a cushioned chair. The gray ash that lay upon his armor was as heavy as the gloom that surrounded him. He said nothing as the duchess walked to where she could observe his face more clearly. Releasing a deep breath, Pianessa shook his head.
