(...) I've got to admit, the feeling that first came over me when asked to paint the Crown Princess's portrait was not one of pride, but rather one of fear. Better artists than me in the city had lost their face not fullfilling this duty to the expected results, figuratively and litterally. In the end my greed and lust for fame forced me to accept. That and a bit of curiosity, of course. I had to see if the rumors of her breathtaking beauty were true. (...)

(...) I could feel her piercing gaze across from the other side of the room. She stood there, hours on end, completely still, never even moved an inch. Quiet she stood there, watching my every brush stroke, every breath. Her eyes were daggers and soothing silk at the same time somehow.(...)

(...)
With time the painting progessed and Her Majesty and I continued our sessions in silence. She rarely spoke to me, seemingly uniterested. However, her posture and expression spoke volumes. Beeing an artist for as long as I have you develop a keen sense of how to read these things. She was indeed a hauntingly beautiful woman, her straight back and stiff posture told me of her dignity, but her calm and perhaps even kittenish face gave away that this all was only a memorized picture of how a royal should look. What was really interesting tho was her old City Sigill of Solinde hanging from her hips. A strong and almost exasperating symbol of her rebellion against her mother-in-law, the all might Queen of Sesriem. I couldn't help but notice those mythical three pearls attached to her golden crown. Those mean rumors of her stealing them from her unloving and cold mother as a child, could they really be true?

/Excerpt from a diary of an unknown artist.