The Artist and the Hunter 11

    It was the fourth day, the day Artemis had said he would be done with his deals, and the day Victoria had promised to be finished with the drawing. She had replaced the Artemis-elf with a goblin, though Victoria told herself it still looked like him. She wanted to present it to him right away and get it over with, but as she reached for the doorknob to his study, her heart beat so frantically that she lost her nerve and turned away. She clutched her sketchbook to her chest and half-ran down the hallway back to her room. He would hate it. He would hate it and she would have to start all over again. Maybe they could be friends, maybe they could get along, but none of that would change how he truly felt about her work.
She ran over to her desk and threw the book in a drawer. Suddenly, she was not proud of it anymore. Everything was about making Artemis happy. Victoria frowned, not liking this notion. She would not sell out to him, of all people, when they had such different views concerning art. Victoria opened the drawer and took the sketchbook from its depths. No, she would show this to someone who deserved to see it, someone who would appreciate it, before throwing her hard labor to the dogs.
    Artemis' hand clenched slightly on the table as Victoria ran from his study's threshold and back to her suite.
"It's because you intimidate her, Artemis," Butler said softly from behind his principle. "She's not showing her drawing to you for the same reason you are not going to the Fairy Council with your findings." Artemis' jaw tightened as Butler continued, "You're afraid of being laughed at and told you are mistaken."
"I'm not mistaken!" Artemis hissed. "The data simply doesn't make sense any other way! However, the prudish Fairy Council will not believe anything which will cost them money, so before I report to them I must have irrevocable proof."
Butler nodded slowly. He had had his run-ins with the Fairy Council; a snobbish bunch of tight-pursed and loose-lipped fairies who would go along with world destruction if it would line their pockets. After the death of Commander Root and Commander Vinyaya, the Council took an even more revenue-based turn, and rarely did any good anymore.
"Still, I can see your point, Butler." Artemis resigned, standing and straightening his Armani jacket. "I can be a quite intimidating figure, and I have not been exactly propitious in my opinions of her artwork. Right. I will go confront her. Butler," he turned heel to face his bodyguard. "The fairy communicator is in the first hidden compartment of my bureau. If you would, please keep it on your person and answer if Holly calls. I feel I will be otherwise occupied today."
    Butler was not worried that Artemis was planning something devious by his ambiguous statement as his employer strode confidently to the door and exited without a sound. True, oftentimes when Artemis spoke so mysteriously it meant trouble, but sometimes, like in this instance, the genius spoke eloquently in order to hide that he was about to do something normal, even nice.

    "I love it!" Angeline Fowl grinned up from her desk of paperwork. Victoria, noticing the businesswoman's heavy workload, had tried to back out of the room, but Mrs. Fowl had already recognized her presence.
Victoria smiled sheepishly at her boss's approval of her work. "Th-there are still some things I want to improve, and I was going to run them by Art--Mister Fow-- your son, but I thought I'd show it to you first."
Mrs. Fowl gave the younger woman a knowing smile. "Well, even my son cannot deny the artistic mastery of this piece. I can't wait to see it finished. When are you starting on the wall?"
"Today." Another voice declared from the door. Victoria jumped, berating herself mentally as Artemis sauntered into the room. She really needed to get used to that.
The raven-haired youth rotated her sketch so he could appraise it. After a brief moment, he nodded with a sniff.
"Some aspects of the piece need to be discussed," he mused, well aware of his mother's presence, "but the composition is well executed and engaging. I have an Artograph Super Prism set up downstairs. I was hoping we could finalize the design and have line art on the wall by tomorrow morning."
Victoria gaped like a fish as Angeline clapped excitedly, "Wonderful! Just don't work yourself too hard, darling." She laid a hand on the artist's arm. Victoria nodded dumbly, following Artemis's lead as he walked nonchalantly from his mother's reading room.
    They walked in silence down the manor's dark wood halls, the light streaming from fifteen-foot windows doing little to help the tense mood. Finally, Artemis said over his shoulder, "You can drop the charade. No one else is watching."
"Excuse me?" She raised an eyebrow at the genius's straight back.
"Your 'innocent and humble' facade." Artemis gestured slightly with the sketchbook he still held. She wanted to snatch it back. "We both know you are not so benign and meek in private."
"What the heck are you talking about?"
"That! Like the comment you just uttered!" Artemis pronounced triumphantly, turning and walking backward to continue the conversation. "You never would have spoken so in front of my mother!"
"That's because I respect your mother," Victoria muttered.
The heir frowned, stopping in his tracks and forcing Victoria to stop with him. "Would you like me to make the rest of your stay here more torturous than Hades?" He inquired, his eyebrows raised and eyes half-lidded indifferently, as if he had just asked if she'd like some lemon water.
Victoria fought not to roll her eyes. "No."
"Then you will respect me and my opinion." He pivoted and began walking away, taking such long strides that she had to jog to keep up.
She gritted her teeth. He wanted her to drop a facade? Fine. She stretched an exaggerated smile across her mouth. "You want some fries with that order, sir?"
"Ah, American humor," He stopped again, so abruptly she almost ran into him.
"You can't just order me to respect you!" she objected, "Respect has to be earned, even if you are some rich big-shot."
Artemis watched her for a moment, staring at her with his deep, blue orbs until she began to feel uneasy. "I respect you, Victoria Bering."
Victoria's eyes widened, but before she could inquire about his sudden statement, he had changed the subject.
"Now, even though everything is set up downstairs, some changes still have to be made to this sketch. See this fairy? The light it's giving off should affect not only this toadstool, but the reeds around it--"
"Oh yeah, I see that!"
"And what about this blank space."
"I was going to ask you about that--"
"Perhaps a small troll. That would be a good place for him, lurking in the shadows... wait, wait a minute..."
"What?" Victoria asked nervously. Every muscle in her body tensed for the rejection to follow. Artemis pointed at the right hand corner. "That-- does that goblin have my face."
She blinked twice in relief, then looked away from his accusing gaze, embarrassed that he had noticed her bit of revenge.
Artemis closed the sketchbook with a sniff and a sharp snap. "I'll get you back for that."
She gave him a lopsided grin.