The weekly activity of The Gilded Cage had already begun. The air was filled with the pleasant earthy scent of oil paints and the light, floral notes of the ladies' expensive perfumes. Sunlight streamed through the tall, arched windows, illuminating the room where a dozen of the most prominent women in Albion stood before their easels, dabbing at canvases with varying degrees of skill.
Duchess Lyra was entirely focused on her painting, a quiet landscape of the countryside. She mixed a bit of white and red color on her palette, creating the perfect soft pink for a sunset cloud. She was in her own world, a silent island of concentration amidst the sea of gentle chatter.
