"Of course, he'll love it," she exclaimed. "People rarely know what they really want. They instead strive for the things everyone else tells them they should want. Then, when they achieve their peer-induced goals, they find out they wasted their time and effort on something that doesn't even make them happy. But these colors, how could they not make someone happy?? These are inately happy colors." Her expression indicated that any suggestion that these were not happy colors would be a foolish one.

At the mention of Lucio, Mercury replied, "oh what a dear, always sending his regards. You know he should give you your paint for free, don't you? I know you don't really care about the cost anymore than I would, but even so. And I hope he isn't using the story about his kids on you, he doesn't even have kids." With a shrug she finished, "gotta admire his business skills though."

With that, the young woman headed toward the Castle with arms full of paint.

Dala knew that arguing with his sister when she had *that* look on her face would get him nowhere, so he didn't try. Instead he walked along next to her and switched to the subject of Lucio. "But if we don't pay him, how will he eat?"

His eyes widened noticeably suddenly, and he gave his big sister a shocked look. "He doesn't have children?! But he's always talking about them. He wouldn't...lie? Would he? What would be the point?" His confusion was evident upon his expressive face and in his hurt voice.

Cymneo's daughter sighed and shook her head. "Of course he doesn't have children, no woman will have him . . . he smells like turpentine." She wrinkled her nose to punctuate her point. "He tells people about his children as part of the game of selling. I suspect he likes the game at least as much as the profit." Mercury cocked her head for a moment as if contemplating her last statement before contradicting herself. "No, that is probably not right, he enjoys the profit much more."

"Anyway, don't worry too much about his ability to continue feeding himself, he makes plenty by marking up his paint because it is that used by Ebony's greatest male painter. He knows better than to mention or slight Rozel I'm sure," the red-haired princess continued with a smirk. "If you are going to allow him to use you to market his products, you should at least glean some benefit. Otherwise, convince him to stop. That is what I did a couple years back." With a snort she concluded, "I believe he called that the 'ox-cart incident' or something." She was still chuckling to herself as they arrived at the West Gate to the palace.

"Me? Ebony's greatest male painter?" Dala stared at Mercury in open-mouthed shock, barely avoiding pointing at himself. "You really think that highly of me sister?" He was so stunned that he didn't even take in that bit about the ox-cart. At least not at the moment, though later it would come to his mind.

"Well I am certainly not Ebony's greatest male painter" his sister replied, sticking out her tongue. Mercury hummed a little tune to herself as they approached Vestige's room, whereupon she produced a key and unlocked the door. Vestige must have approved of this if he gave her the key . . . right?

Dala blushed heavily and smiled bashfully. He was silent all the way up to Vestige's room, then he looked at the key Mercury held. It never occured to him that the key might not be legitimate. After all, Mercury was their big sister and a Princess. She wouldn't do anything so low as getting a fake key.

"Did Vestige make any mention of how he wanted to mix the colors? Just throwing out random colors to be used isn't good enough. I hope you told him that. I know you said that he might not know what he wants, but getting at least some idea of his desires could only help us. We want to do the job right for him, after all, or else we'll have to come back and do it again."

"Of course they won't be thrown at random, silly," Mercury admonished. "The blue goes on the ceiling, the green along the top half of the walls, blending into the yellow on the bottom half, and the lylac on the cornices and trim," she explained matter-of-factly.

The young woman gathered up Vestige's belongings and dumped them on the bed. As she opened the cans of paint she continued, "you start with the green, while I do the yellow, then you can do the cornices, while I do the trim, and then you can finish off the ceiling." With that, she started painting the gloomy room a bright yellow.

Dala nodded. "Okay. Be careful not to sprain your back. Painting walls is far different from painting canvas." With that, he started work on the upper walls, starting on the side opposite Mercury and being careful not to stain his clothes while he worked.

Mercury threw herself into the painting, much as with anything else she did. She worked her way around the room in the same direction as her younger brother so that they were always on opposite sides of the room. When they were each done with their portion, they mixed some yellow and green paint in a plate and painted a stripe at the meeting point of the two colors and then began blending it up and down to make an even smoother transition.

When this was done, Mercury disappeared for several minutes, returning with a dropcloth to protect Vestige's possessions while the ceiling was painted. She then disappeared again, returning with a short step ladder that would allow Dala to paint the ceiling without completely extending his arm the whole time. Mercury then painted the trim around the window and door with the lylac paint, as Dala began painting the ceiling robins-egg blue.

The room was really starting to look quite nice. Much brighter and bigger, with a taller ceiling. It was clear that the young princess had an eye for color. After a quick survey of the progress, Titania's daughter disappeared again as her brother finished the second half of the ceiling.

After taking precautionary measures to ensure she appeared innocent, Mercury arranged to encounter Vestige on the stairs only a few minutes after leaving his room. Vestige had obviously just arrived home from his week-long hunting trip in Birnham. He was still wearing his riding boots and clothes covered with dust from the road.

He favored his sister with his usual, sullen stare. "Sister."

"Oh, Vestige!" Mercury said, feigning surprise. "You're back! The kitchen was wondering if you would be in time for dinner."

Vestige's expression didn't change as he waited for his sister to let him pass.

"Oh, and the repainting is going really well," Mercury went on. "Dala really is an artist."

Vestige frowned. "I'm sure."

He began to move around his sister, but paused. He turned to her slowly and said, "What repainting...?"

Mercury smiled brightly. "Dala said you asked him to repaint your room."

Vestige's dark eyes widened.

Mercury continued, "Didn't you?"

"DALA!" Vestige roared as he pushed past his sister and up the stares at a run.

Dala hummed happily to himself as he painted. He always found happiness once he started a project, and now he was bringing cheer to his little brother. It was quite a while before he noticed that Mercury had vanished on him.

He finished up the last part of the ceiling and looked around to survey the whole room, then he frowned. "Mercury? Sister? Where are you?"

The reply he received was surprising. It sounded an awful lot like Vestige himself, roaring Dala's name from the staircase. Mercury was nowhere to be seen, but someone was running up the stairs outside in a hurry.

Dala poked his head out of the door and smiled brightly. "Vestige! Welcome home brother! Mercury and I have just finished with your room. We had to guess a bit at what combination of colors you'd like. You gave Mercury some pretty vague ideas." He shook his head a bit. "If you were having trouble coming up with ideas you should have come talked to me or Mercury." He beamed and waved a hand. "But don't worry! We think you'll like what we've managed. Come and see!"

Mercury waved pleasantly to Vestige's back, a malicious smile playing briefly across her lips. She turned and continued down to the kitchens to let them know her little brother was back and to prepare a feast of fresh crab legs in his honor. She knew how he detested crabs ever since she had buried him up to his neck in sand and tormented him with the scaly crustaceans as a young boy. This was turning out to be a pretty good day.