Claimed By The Tyrant King

Rosalind settled herself comfortably upon an elegant red velvet chair, holding both babies securely in her arms, while Rowan stood proudly behind her with one hand resting lightly against the back of the chair.

"Are you comfortable, Your Majesty?" the painter asked respectfully. "This will take some time."

"Yes, let’s do this," Rosalind answered with a gentle smile.

The painter inclined his head before briefly looking toward Rowan. The King acknowledged him with a small nod, and with that silent understanding, the painter stepped back to his easel.

He carefully studied the family before lifting his brush to the canvas, his eyes moving between them and the painting as he mixed colours upon his palette and slowly brought the portrait to life with patient and practiced strokes.

Rosalind glanced at the twins,"They’re behaving so well today," she murmured quietly, almost afraid to say it too loudly in case she tempted fate.

"It sounds like you’re starting to miss all that crying," Rowan teased.

Rosalind eyes widened in horror. "Absolutely not."

A small laugh escaped both of them before the room settled into a comfortable silence once more. The gentle breeze drifting through the open windows stirred the curtains and caused the folds of Rosalind’s dress to sway ever so slightly, filling the chamber with a peaceful atmosphere as the painter continued his work.

Rowan remained perfectly composed, standing as though holding the same position for hours required no effort at all.

Rosalind, however, gradually began to feel the strain. Sitting so still while maintaining the same graceful posture was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, and every passing minute made her more aware of how badly she wanted to stretch her legs.

She endured it for as long as she could before finally looking toward the painter with an apologetic smile.

"May we take a short break?" Rosalind asked. "I’d like to move around for a little while before we continue."

"I’m afraid that might affect the consistency of the portrait..." the painter began cautiously.

"Of course," Rowan replied before the man could finish.

The painter’s face fell for the briefest moment, but he wisely held his tongue. After all, it wasn’t his place to argue with the King.

Rosalind gratefully adjusted herself on the chair, and Rowan gently lifted both babies from her arms so she could stretch and enjoy a few moments to herself.

She happily accepted the short break, especially when the servants brought freshly baked cookies and tea. Rosalind helped herself to one with a content sigh, feeling the stiffness gradually leave her body.

Sitting perfectly still while holding two babies and maintaining the same graceful posture had been far more exhausting than she had imagined.

Once the break was over, everyone returned to their places. The painter demonstrated the exact position Rosalind had been sitting in before, making sure every detail matched the unfinished portrait. After adjusting the folds of her dress and the angle of her shoulders, she settled back into position while Rowan resumed his place behind.

The hours passed quietly as the painter worked with remarkable patience. He frequently stepped back to study the family before adding another careful brushstroke, blending colours together until every detail slowly came to life upon the canvas.

At long last, he lowered his brush and smiled with quiet satisfaction. "It is finished, Your Majesties."

"Thank goodness," Rosalind breathed out with obvious relief as she relaxed her shoulders. "I never imagined sitting still could be this exhausting." She laughed softly to herself.

This was certainly not something she wished to do again anytime soon.

However, the moment the painter carefully turned the canvas toward them, every complaint vanished from her mind.

Rosalind stared at it.

The portrait was breathtaking...

Every tiny detail had been captured with astonishing precision, from the warm rays of sunlight spilling through the windows to the gentle glow upon their faces. Even the delicate folds of her gown and the softness in Rowan’s expression had been painted so beautifully that the family almost seemed alive within the canvas.

No wonder it had taken so many hours.

The painter truly possessed extraordinary talent.

"The painting is beautiful," Rosalind said sincerely, unable to look away.

As Rowan held little Leander comfortably in his arms, his own gaze remained fixed on the portrait. "It is perfect," he said quietly.

Rosalind found herself agreeing wholeheartedly.

Leander and Estelle looked impossibly adorable, and simply seeing them captured forever in that moment stirred something deep inside her. Both children had inherited Rowan’s dark, slightly wavy hair, while her own hazel eyes shone brightly in their tiny faces. Their fair complexion resembled his as well, making them look like the perfect blend of both their parents.

Rosalind herself appeared every bit the Queen. The emerald gown suited her beautifully, while the diamonds she wore shimmered beneath the painted light, and the smile upon her lips reached all the way to her eyes. Standing proudly behind his family, Rowan wore only the faintest smile, yet there was no mistaking the quiet authority in his posture. Together, they looked strong, united, and almost untouchable.

It was everything either of them could have hoped for.

"Thank you, Your Majesties," the painter said with a broad smile, unable to hide his delight after seeing their reactions. Their praise alone was enough to tell him he had done justice to the royal family.

Rosalind turned toward Rowan, "Where do you think we should place it?" she asked thoughtfully. "I don’t think we should keep it locked away in the gallery. It deserves to be somewhere everyone can admire it."

"You’re right," Rowan agreed without hesitation. "I’ll have the servants choose a suitable place along the palace walls where it can be displayed properly."

Not long afterward, the portrait was carefully mounted in one of the grand halls of the palace, where members of the royal family and distinguished guests could admire it alongside the treasured portraits of previous generations.

Standing before it, Julian quietly admired the painting while Rebecca remained beside him.

After staring at it for a while, he gently tugged at his mother’s sleeve. "Mother... do you think I could have a painting too? One with you, my cousins, Uncle Rowan and Aunt Rosalind?"

Rebecca bobbed her head "Of course you can," she replied warmly. "Someday, but not today. They’ve had a long day already, and I’m certain they’re exhausted."

Julian nodded without complaint. "Alright."

Rebecca looked down at him before another thought crossed her mind. "Have you given Prince Leander the toys you and Cedric made for him yet?"

Over the past few days, Julian had spent many happy hours with Cedric carving little wooden toys together. Rebecca had been surprised to discover that the Lord Commander possessed such delicate craftsmanship, but between the two of them they had managed to carve tiny wooden swords for Leander. Julian had also insisted that Princess Estelle deserved a gift of her own, so Cedric had begun carving a beautiful little doll for her as well.

Julian shook his head. "Cedric said Estelle’s doll isn’t finished yet," he explained. "Shouldn’t I wait until both gifts are ready before I give them to Leander and Estelle?"

Rebecca smiled proudly at her thoughtful son. "I think that’s a wonderful idea, dear. You should give them both their presents together."

Julian’s face brightened immediately. "Then I’ll wait." Rebecca gently squeezed his shoulder before the two of them shared one last look at the family portrait.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!