As he gestured towards the stairs, Hearth nodded once, clasping her hands together and fiddling with her fingers in anxiousness. "O-Okay," she stammered, and lead him up the spiral staircase, her steps slow and cautious. She had once almost slipped down this staircase – she had been in a rush, eager to back to her paintings, to work on a small portrait she had naively considered to be a masterpiece – but she had taken a faulty step and nearly fell, clasping onto the handrail for dear life. That was when she had been younger, and had been able to take risks.
It was a ridiculously tall staircase, but the distance between her room and the rest of the House only made Hearth feel more at ease. Such a love of seclusion was unhealthy, her father thought, but Hearth considered her room to be a space of therapy, at best. She looked back to Lucan, her eyes almost apologetic. "I-I'm s-s-sorry, i-it's a t-terribly l-long c-c-climb," she apologized, biting her lip. And all of this because he wanted to see her paintings! She would've liked to assure him that she wasn't a professional, but such a statement might annoy him...
Through perseverance, the two were at the door of Hearth's room. A very short hallway separated the door of her room from the staircase, leaving little left in the way of her domain. Tentatively, she opened the door to her room, and took a sigh of relief as she did so – her room was neat and orderly, as always, but she had always feared that the day she'd have to bring someone into her room would be the day she forget to clean.
Her room was elegant without trying to be – Hearth would've dubbed it modest at best, compared to the living quarters of her other siblings, especially the flamboyant Gemini. Dark mahogany furniture adorned her quarters, offset by light plum purple curtains and bed dressings, reflecting her personality, but also that of House Stone's. Her painting accessories could be seen pushed to the right side of her room – such as her easel, with a fresh paintbrush and set of paints set by it, in case she came upon a burst of inspiration, and her drawer full of backup paints were all kept in the corner.
However, her paintings were nowhere to be seen, not stored anywhere they could be casually looked at anyway. Hearth made her way to the closet, which was designed to look as if it was simply a part of the wall. However, her fingers curled around the closet's handle, and slid it open. The closet was huge, taking up the whole south side of the wall. However, once it was opened, one could see it was not a closet, but a hidden room – and it it was her paintings. Some were on easels, some casual portraits she had done framed upon the walls in the closet – it was her hidden artist's domain.
"H-Here's... e-everything I-I've ever d-done," Hearth introduced, smiling a little. She stepped in her hidden sanctuary, nodding at Lucan, her way of letting him know that he could come in. After glancing around the walls, it was quick to see that Hearth was fond of portraits and landscapes – little else could be found displayed here. It was strange, how someone so shy could capture the immediate expressions of people in her paintings.
"B-But, th-this isn't the b-b-best of it! I-If y-you'll f-f-follow m-me..."
She was walking deeper into the sanctuary, and her smile grew by a centimeter's worth. At the end of the room, there was a painting, nearly as wide as the room itself... It was Lindolen, of the square, the center, of the city – of the view outside of her window. The buildings were detailed, painstakingly so, it was almost if she had managed to capture the architecture of her province itself. As if she had taken the soul of Lindolen and put it onto the paper. However, despite how large the easel may have been, the painting was only one fourth of the way day.
"I-It's n-n-not finished y-yet," she explained, "B-But, i-if I do f-finish it s-someday... I th-think it'll b-b-be the b-b-best work I've e-ever d-done." She was beaming, hands still clasped to her chest, looking up to read the expression on Lucan's face."