She leaned back in her chair, observing the canvas being prepped. An aroma of tea and turpentine filled the air, mixed with the sweet scent of pastries. Alcina’s eyes flickered with intrigue. Lady Dimitrescu hummed, curiosity piqued. “My, you appear prepared,” she said, her voice alluring. “Oils already mixed? I hoped to find a diamond in the rough, a fresh talent before their debut.”