04-15-2021, 08:47 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-15-2021, 08:47 PM by Tristan Wells.)
Tristan was vaguely aware of how his own hand was warm and a little sweaty. He let go as soon as he could. He sat down when the artist invited him to. "Thank you." Despite the man's elevated status, the first impression was good. He seemed polite and friendly. No trace of snobbishness.
"I must confess I have very little knowledge of the different kinds of portraits, my lord, so you might have to help me," Tristan sheepishly admitted. "I would be the subject. My mother has requested a portrait to decorate the family home. I believe she intends to furnish it like one of the grander homes, so a more classical style would suit her." It felt a little uncomfortable to admit to an earl that his family was trying to emulate what his own home probably looked like. But then, did not all members of society try to climb the ladder of respectability by looking at their betters?
"I must confess I have very little knowledge of the different kinds of portraits, my lord, so you might have to help me," Tristan sheepishly admitted. "I would be the subject. My mother has requested a portrait to decorate the family home. I believe she intends to furnish it like one of the grander homes, so a more classical style would suit her." It felt a little uncomfortable to admit to an earl that his family was trying to emulate what his own home probably looked like. But then, did not all members of society try to climb the ladder of respectability by looking at their betters?