The clattering of the carriage was now left behind. I and Historia were now standing in front of the door of the palace. Evening was setting and the orange light of the sun was scattered like spots in the sky, which was leaving a mysterious glow on our faces. The light wind moving slowly was stroking my wounds, due to which I was feeling a sense of relief and safety. After that rot of the factory and the smell of gunpowder, this fresh air of home was appearing like some nectar. But I was worrying about the injuries received during the fight.
Although while coming back from the factory that mysterious lady had healed us too, due to which most of our wounds had become fine. Her magical green light had joined the flesh again, and whatever leftover marks of injury remained on our faces and my torn clothes—we, stopping on the way, applied medicines and Bandages on our injuries. And I, stopping at a clothes shop, also changed my blood-stained clothes so that no one inside the house may have an inkling of our reality.
But then the thought came to me that on going inside the house if everyone saw the marks of injury on our faces, then they can definitely ask us after all what has happened with us. I knew that I cannot tell anyone about that hell of the factory and that fierce fight of the kidnapper woman of the Sulan clan. And in those circumstances I will have to tell a lie, a lie such as can be believed. But now whatever happens will be seen, I, having thought this much.
Historia stroked the white bandage applied on her injury and looked toward me. Her eyes were tired, but in them was a strange peace.
Before crossing the threshold of the house I saw that setting sun one last time.
Upon stepping foot on the threshold of the house my heartbeats suddenly became fast. Now I and Historia come inside the Palace.
As soon as the heavy doors opened, seeing the sight inside I paused. Upon coming inside the atmosphere was appearing a little changed, as if preparation for the coming of some Guest were being made. The fragrance of smelling flowers was floating in the air. My sight went toward the sofa on the side, where all the family members were present and all of them had worn good colorful and new clothes.
The entire hall was sparkling with light, as if some festival were being celebrated. Seeing which I began to think that is it our party today or what? Exactly opposite to my tattered condition and tired face, every corner there was appearing as if full of happiness.
But just then the sight of all the Family members also fell upon me. Suddenly all conversation stopped and everyone's eyes got fixed on those marks of injury settled on the faces of me and Historia. The silence was so deep that I was able to hear the sound of my own breaths.
Upon seeing me my younger sister 'Moon' came running and saying "Bhaiya!" stopped after coming near me. In her innocent eyes, worry and surprise for me were clearly visible. "Bhaiya, what is this on your face? And why are you people appearing so tired?"
Upon which I, being a little nervous, give a reply, "Hey, nothing at all has happened to me... that just a little Accident of mine occurred."
In my voice was not that old confidence, but in the hurry of the atmosphere perhaps it got hidden. As soon as she heard my talk, Moon says with a mixed emotion of fear and worry, "What! Accident? Bhaiya, you are fine, aren't you? Somewhere you haven't received too many injuries, right?" Her small palms were clutching my coat as if she did not want to let me be lost somewhere again. Upon which I then give a reply, "Hey no, I said no I haven't received many special injuries."
My talks with Moon are still going on, that by then all family members, getting up, come near me. The attention of the entire hall was now on me and Historia. Piercing the silence, Narco says, "What? Your accident occurred? But after all how?"
Hearing the question for myself from Narco's mouth I was a little nervous. His eyes were reading the marks on my face. But the way to retreat was closed. Therefore I narrated a false story to them all. I took a deep breath and while stabilizing my voice told them that I and Historia were going by a carriage, just then suddenly the coachman of that carriage lost his Control over his horses. I, adding further, said that that carriage collided with a corner and overturned and me and Historia got these injuries. But I said further, although no other big mishap occurred at that place.
Narco for a moment peered into my eyes, then took a breath of relief. After which Narco gave a reply, "Oh, so it is such a matter! It is a good thing that not much happened to you and Historia, Jona. But did you call the police there then?"
Upon which I immediately give a reply, "Yes-yes, absolutely! I had called the police."
Upon which Narco then gives a reply, "Oh, then this is a good thing. Hope the police will teach that coachman a lesson well." His trust sat like a heavy stone on my chest. Upon which I, taking a false Smile on my face, say, "Yes absolutely, the police will surely teach the coachman a lesson for his negligence toward the horses."
The smile was on my lips, but I very cleanly had buried the truth of that kidnapper woman and the bloody workshop under the debris of this fake accident.
Amidst the sparkling of the palace and the worry-filled talks of Moon, suddenly that stranger's voice echoed which changed the very direction of the atmosphere. "Sir Narco, can we start the painting now?"
As soon as that voice came into my ears, I with a jerk turn my head toward the Left. Where I see a man, he was sitting on a quite high table—so high that his feet were not even reaching the ground. His appearance was completely separate from the rest of the people of the house. His clothes also were quite different, which were giving him a 'French Look'. In his eyes was the sharp spark of an artist. And in his hands a brush and a Palette filled with different colors were present. And in front of him a blank Canvas was present, the whiteness of which was sparkling in the light of that room. He had not drawn even a single line on that white page of the canvas until now, as if he were stopped in wait of some special thing.
I am still looking at that artist with eyes full of wonder and am thinking this very thing, that from here Narco gives a reply, "Yes absolutely! Now my son has come, so we can start."
Hearing which I begin to think, after all what thing is being talked about? Were all these waiting for my arrival? But before my asking anything Alisha gives me the answer that this person, his name is Sketch. And he has come here for the Desk Family, meaning to make our painting.
A collective picture of the family! Upon which I say, "Oh! So it is such a matter." This proposal of a painting amidst that excuse of a fake accident stuck on my face and torn clothes was nothing less than a trouble.
After which we all go and go to sit on the sofa kept in front of Sketch. That corner was appearing like some royal court, which had been prepared by the Maids beforehand quite well. Upon sitting on the padded sofa, the beautiful fragrance of the decorated flowers was calming and lightening my mind, as if that air were slowly washing the dread born inside that factory within me.
Sketch stood behind his canvas, in his eyes was a strange concentration. Sketch says, "So okay, now I start the painting. So please, you all do not move for some time."
As soon as he moved his brush toward the Palette, I, while gesturing toward myself hurriedly, say, "Please, just wait a second! Actually, so many injuries are received on my face, so because of this my face won't be spoiled in the painting, right?" My fear was justified; I did not want my face to remain as a mishap among the generations of the Desk Family.
Upon which Sketch while laughing gives a reply, "Sir, you do not worry. I will remove the injuries of your face in the painting. You do not have any need to worry about this thing. In the painting your face will be absolutely Normal indeed."
From his talks my heart got coldness. Upon which I give a reply, "Oh! So it is such a matter. So okay, I am ready. You start making the painting."
A strange silence was just about to cast over the atmosphere that my younger brother 'Nile', sitting a little behind beside me, placing a hand on his mouth says while laughing and whispering, "But Bhaiya, you already haven't remained worthy of showing your face to anyone in the house!"
In his voice was that mischief which only a younger brother can do. But perhaps he did not know this that I too have heard this talk of his. And I understand this thing that after all regarding what thing he is doing this kind of talk.
At that time my mental balance was already disturbed. I turn my head toward him. Anger and irritability had come together on my face. My burning sights peered directly into his eyes. Seeing which Nile gets a little scared and his laughter disappears. He, being cowed, quietly sitting begins to get the painting made.
The first line of the brush was drawn on the canvas. Now there was only silence, and that artist sitting in front was capturing our memories in colors.