The Royal Aide entered a quiet chamber inside the palace.

An elderly artist was already waiting beside a table with fresh parchment, charcoal, and ink.

Mira stood nervously near the door, twisting the edge of her worn shawl between her fingers.

"There's no need to be afraid," the Royal Aide said. "Simply describe the woman exactly as you

saw her."

Mira nodded.

The artist dipped his charcoal onto the parchment.

"Let's begin."

Mira took a slow breath. "She... she looked young."

The artist's hand moved across the parchment.

"Her face?" he asked.

"It was soft," Mira answered. "Very beautiful, but not the kind that draws attention because of

jewels or...