I blame watching the Blank Space music video. And the friend that made me watch it in the first place. To be continued because this is the only way I know of to get rid of writer's block.
Emma considered the painting. It had beautiful swirls of color, reds and pinks entwining in an amazing tornado of rose.
She ripped it down the middle.
It was ugly because it was happy. And her aunt, her only living relative, had just died. Leaving her alone with a vast wealth and an extensive estate.
You see, Emma Hohenzollern was an heiress. Quite a rich and pretty one at that. She was a painter, horseback rider, and guitarist. An impressive mix, she had been told in the past.
But being driven out of Romania (her homeland) had taken it's toll. She came from an family of royalty, but the Romanian government had been overthrown, and almost all of her family had been slaughtered while trying to escape. She herself had only been two years old when they fled, but she still had nightmares of flames licking walls as their ancestral home burned to the ground.
Her aunt and distant cousin had been the only ones to make it out. The cousin died two years later, leaving her with her aunt.
Aunt Rosamund was gone now, though.
Emma sighed. She had been so preoccupied with deciding what to do with the painting that she had forgotten the time. She had a meeting with the neighbouring estate master's son. It was rumoured that he was quite handsome, but she had no time for trivial matters.