Lalla nodded. "Of course." She had wondered how he'd want her to pose. She quite liked the idea of being painted as if she was writing, because it was sort of what summed her up as a person. Her words were her art, and so she felt that was a decent portrayal of her. She sat down, shifting herself a little before looking at the table and imagining her writing desk, picturing her room at home around her, closing her eyes for a moment and settling into a natural position in which she would write. Then she reopened her eyes, looking at Antony.
"How is this?" She asked quietly, hoping to please him. She wanted to be a good model, attractive, paintable, and she hoped she'd be satisfactory. "I can move if you'd like, I'm adaptable, as it were."