SERAPHINA’S POV
‘It’s what Zara would’ve wanted to see. She would be so proud.’
Gods, it was worse than I’d thought.
I had braced myself for something difficult, but this—this tragic tale of love and loss—shook me in a way I hadn't anticipated.
I stared at the portrait, something cold twisting along my spine.
Zara—gods, even her name was beautiful—had fierce, intelligent blue eyes and a defiant smile. Pale blonde hair framed her face in a braid crown, and her hand rested on the hilt of a blade.
I could envision her from the stories Lucian had told. Fierce. Dauntless. Radiant in every sense of the word. The kind of woman who drew every eye when she entered a room without even trying. Whose light outshone everything around her.
Kind of like Celeste, but…worthy.
And even as Lucian spoke of Zara—softly, reverently—I could see that same light still reflected in him. Like a candle that refused to go out, no matter how much time passed.
