YENA
It made more sense to work on my project in the palace than in the studio at school, so I set myself up at a big table in the parlor down the hall from our bedroom.
Rafaela happened upon me there the next afternoon when she came in to clean.
She was amazed, walking around and touching the fabrics I had draped over the chairs and chaise lounges. I was drawing at a small table, and had drafts scattered all around me on the floor.
“We cannot have this,” she said, shaking her head.
Soon, a small army of servants crowded the parlor, hauling out most of the furniture. One nearly pulled a chair right out from under me.
They pinned my drawings to tufted bulletin boards they installed on the walls, and staged a big, polished oak desk under the window.
