Chapter 9: The Emperor’s Reaction
Edisi Indonesia: Reaksi Sang Maharaja
The long-awaited day had finally arrived. Ciptakarsa awoke with mixed feelings—excitement mingled with apprehension. He knew this day would be the culmination of his hard work, yet also the day when his vision would be tested. In the palace, the grand hall was already filled with nobles, scholars, and artists. They gathered with one purpose—to witness the masterpiece Ciptakarsa had created on the Emperor's command. Soft whispers filled the room as the guests speculated on what the artwork would depict. Would it meet their expectations, or even surpass their imagination?
As Ciptakarsa stood before his covered work, his hands trembled slightly. But he remained steadfast, recalling every brushstroke he had made with unwavering dedication. He glanced around the majestic hall—towering wooden pillars carved with intricate designs, oil lamps casting a gentle glow, and walls adorned with reliefs telling the long history of Majapahit. At the far end of the room, the Emperor sat on his throne, his face inscrutable. His eyes were sharp, but his expression unreadable. He merely waited, like a hawk observing its prey from a distance.
Finally, the moment arrived. With one smooth motion, the cloth covering the painting was pulled away, revealing Ciptakarsa’s masterpiece to all. Instantly, a profound silence filled the hall. Conversations ceased, and even breath seemed to be held as time appeared to stand still. All eyes fixed on the painting, but no words escaped anyone’s lips—only admiration was etched on their faces.
Ciptakarsa stole a glance at the Emperor, who remained seated, his eyes scanning the painting in silence. His gaze moved from the majestic, commanding figure of himself in the center of the canvas. But instead of focusing solely on this grand image of imperial power, the Emperor’s attention shifted to the surrounding scenes. There, depicted in vivid detail, were the lives of the common folk: farmers tending their fields, craftsmen forging tools, and women weaving intricate fabrics. These were the faceless people who supported Majapahit from the ground up, like an invisible foundation holding the entire empire.
The silence became heavier. Nobles exchanged uncertain glances, unsure whether the painting met the Emperor's expectations or would ignite his wrath. Ciptakarsa stood firm, though his stomach knotted with deep anxiety. Would the Emperor view this as subtle defiance, or would he appreciate the artist’s courage in expressing truth through his vision?
After what felt like an eternity, the Emperor slowly rose from his seat. His movements were calm and graceful as he approached the painting. Ciptakarsa’s heart pounded harder, his palms slick with sweat. The Emperor stood in front of the painting, silent for a few long moments that seemed to stretch endlessly. His eyes moved carefully, as if he were reading the stories behind each face depicted on the canvas. Finally, the Emperor’s deep and authoritative voice broke the silence.
“You have captured the soul of Majapahit,” the Emperor said, his tone thoughtful. "Not just its power, but its spirit. I now see that our strength lies not only in our armies, but in the people who build our cities, who toil in our fields, who labor tirelessly to support this empire. This is a truth we must never forget."
Though spoken softly, the words carried profound meaning. The tension that had filled the hall slowly gave way to a collective sigh of relief. The faces of the guests, once unsure, now glowed with admiration. Ciptakarsa lowered his head, feeling the weight of his anxiety lift at last. He was not only relieved to have pleased the Emperor but felt deep satisfaction in staying true to his vision—a vision he believed revealed the real strength of Majapahit.
The nobles began to applaud, their appreciation now evident on their faces. Some exchanged whispers of awe, praising Ciptakarsa’s boldness in presenting something more profound than a mere display of imperial grandeur. Others remained still, lost in deep reflection. Perhaps they too now realized what they had long overlooked—that power did not only come from above but from below, from the ordinary people seldom seen but always present.
Ciptakarsa smiled softly as he looked at the painting one last time that day. He knew that although it would hang in the Emperor’s palace, it was not only for the elite who gazed upon it, but for every person who would retell the kingdom’s story. Today, he had rewritten a narrative—not with words, but with strokes of his brush.
Echoes of Majapahit
Prologue: The Painter's Vision
Chapter 1: The Painter's Ambition
Chapter 2: The Royal Commission
Chapter 3: The Journey Into the Jungle
Chapter 4: The Return to Majapahit
Chapter 5: The Commission Unveiled
Chapter 6: Confusion and Pressure
Chapter 7: A Painter’s Dilemma
Chapter 8: A New Vision Emerges
Chapter 9: The Emperor’s Reaction
Chapter 10: Legacy of a Painter
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