"It was already yours."
The woman named Soraya was more reasonable than Ronan had imagined. After taking the metal box, her attitude towards Ronan visibly softened at an almost visible rate.
The woman opened the letter, sat on a high stool and read it carefully, the girl in the oil painting next to her clinging to the frame, also leaned in to quietly observe.
Ronan could feel the fluctuations of spiritual power and free energy particles filling the room, which were the ebbs and flows of the woman's emotions as she read the letter.
He stood quietly in place, waiting.
Gradually, the sound of sobbing arose in the room, coming from the naive and romantic girl in the painting.
The sobbing grew louder, eventually turning into loud wailing, as the beautiful girl in the painting sat on a meadow full of irises, crying unabashedly like a child.
Tiny ice particles slowly drifted in the light... but they were actually coming from the corners of the eyes of the woman outside the painting.
