Seventeen was a little bit younger than what he had initially guessed. He'd have sooner assumed that she had simply aged well thanks to living her life in the lap of luxury. However, what she said wasn't unbelievable either. Really looking at her, that was about right. He didn't have any reason to think she was lying to him, or to even doubt her at all. It only bothered him in the sense that he felt a bit like he was getting old. "I turned twenty-five a few weeks ago." He briefly glanced at her hand before looking back at the painting. His birthday had been on that day. It was a wonderful present for his uncle to have given him, but he wasn't going to tell her that much.
"How is this then?" He asked, turning the attention back to the painting instead. His outlines were complete basically. That didn't mean they were good still. In fact, they were a bit too thick, leaving them vague, especially among the other lines that had been painted over. He tilted his head to the side. They were definitely done at least.