The moment they stepped into the dimly lit chamber, Grace felt the atmosphere shift. The room was different from the others they had seen so far. It was more intimate or better still almost sacred.
The walls were adorned with ancient tapestries, and in the center, beneath the soft glow of a chandelier, stood a single portrait, larger and more detailed than any other in the palace.
Grace's breath caught the moment her gaze landed on it.
There on it was a regal woman, draped in flowing sapphire-blue robes. She stood tall with an air of quiet power.
Her golden hair was wrapped elegantly on top of her head with a few tendrils dropping over a face that bore an uncanny resemblance to Grace's own.
But what truly blew her mind, almost rendering it numb, was the intricate crest visible at the nape of the woman's neck. It was exactly the same shape as the birthmark she had seen on her own skin.
