Portrait Of A Lady

Eureka, Duchess of Bonivia, had married the Duke at the age of 19, and had been widowed just after their sixth anniversary. The Duchess began experiencing severe health concerns just months before the Duke had suffered a fateful injury. She was a beautiful woman in her own right, but after suffering a stroke at the early age of 26, she became a recluse. She had always been very prideful of her looks, and now, she felt herself becoming more and more withdrawn. Her face was slightly drooped on the left side, and she was very self-conscious of this.

Ironically, though, Eureka had a reason to live, since after her recent set of horrible circumstances and just before his accident, the Duke had impregnated her, leaving a small little bundle of joy for his legacy to continue. Now, she was seven months pregnant and was showing more and more each and every day.

Oftentimes, she looked in the mirror and wondered how anyone could ever love her again. She saw someone unattractive, a person she did not recognize anymore. She had gained over 40 pounds since the beginning of her pregnancy, and her face no longer symmetrical, she felt as if she was staring into the eyes of a stranger.

Eureka no longer felt the pride she once carried; her self-esteem had diminished in just a few months' time, and the only reason she arose from bed every morning was for the love of her unborn child. It seemed the only thing she looked forward to anymore was the day she would be able to hold her recent husband's child.

She often dreamt of holding the newborn, wondering if she would feel the Duke's presence; oh, how she missed him and needed him so badly right now. Her love of the Duke had been unconditional, a love unlike any other. She was sure no one had ever been in love as much as she, and yet, why did she have to endure this loss instead of another enduring it for her?

She knew it was a selfish thought, but she couldn't help but to think it so unfair. Why had she endured such hardship so early on in life? Every day, she wondered if she could even go on with her day, and her dark thoughts always seemed to subside when she would feel the unborn child move in its womb.

As she stared at the unfamiliar face in the mirror, her thoughts began to trail. Just before his death, the Duke had had an artist paint his portrait. She wished now that she had been painted into the portrait with him, for it would have solidified a memory of their union to one another. How could she have her portrait painted now, when she was unrecognizable even to her own family?

Eureka decided she would enlist the help of an artist anyway, hoping that maybe one day she would grow to love herself again. She called upon the local artist who had painted her late husband's portrait, and asked if he would be willing to paint the very same portrait but somehow etch her into the portrait next to him.

The painter grew quiet and hesitantly agreed to give it a try. For several hours, Eureka sat very still, wondering if the painting would even be beautiful, for she did not see beauty in herself any longer. The painter finally announced to her that he could not succeed in such a lovely portrait, and declined to give it another try.

Saddened by this, Eureka asked him if he knew of any other artist who would be willing to take on this task. The painter explained he knew of an even greater artist just 45 miles north, and he would send word to see if the veteran artist would be up for such a difficult request.

Within days, the elderly man appeared at the home of the Duchess, eager and ready to paint the portrait. She wasn't quite sure the painter could fulfill her request, but with hope still lingering, she sat on the bench. He had asked she sit a certain way, with one hand resting on the top of her bulging stomach and the other hand underneath.

He then placed the portrait of her late husband to her left on the empty space next to her on the bench where she was sitting, and he asked her to gaze into the eyes of her once lover but to remain very still. He then proceeded to open the curtains, where the light would glisten just off the right side of her face. He approached his canvas and begin painting as she patiently waited on the finished portrait.

Many hours passed, and the artist looked up from the canvas with a smile wider than she had ever seen. The painter seemed satisfied with the portrait as he declared, "Beautiful." Eureka was optimistic. She stood and made her way over to where the man had been focusing his attention for the past few hours.

She gasped upon seeing the finished product. Her late husband, on the right-hand side of the painting, was facing her on the bench, with one hand stretched out and resting on the middle of her stomach, with her left hand above his and right hand below his. The drooping of her face was not visible, for the painter had her sit on the left-hand side - looking at her late husband - in a way where only the right side of her face would be in the portrait, her face glowing from the light that shown in from the massive window.

It was beautiful. Her eyes began to well with tears. She now knew she could go on with life, and her lover would always be by her side. She instantly felt his presence, and she had finally found herself in the beauty the painting bestowed.