The Portrait Of A Lady Novels & Stories

Dakota says with a blush and opens a door with a secret panel in the wall. I stare around the room. It is full of old dust books and antique furniture covered in cloths, but the portrait over the mantle of the fireplace makes me gasp. The woman is wearing this very gown with chestnut hair piled on her head and adorned in a jeweled tiara with a matching necklace that matches the gown perfectly. Her deep gray eyes stare back at me and I feel as if other than our eye color, I could be looking into a mirror. At the bottom of the portrait is a small brass plaque that reads “Luna Carina D’Ombre”. I decide I need to learn more about this luna.

"I have been trying to find the right way to tell you this for three weeks." "How long ago was this portrait painted?" "Three hundred and twelve years ago." Lena looked at the painting. Three hundred and twelve years ago, a woman who shared her jaw and her posture and her wrist-mark had stood in front of a painter in this realm, and then had disappeared into a historical record that called itself a death and was, the restricted texts insisted, something else entirely. She thought about what she'd read in the library: a bloodline hidden by the Moon Goddess until the right time. She thought about the dream — the voice that said it is almost time, daughter. She thought about the note in her poc

She looked quite dignified in the commissioned portrait with her wavy, silver hair flowing against the wind. Everybody was left speechless. Looking back at the portrait was a woman that looked exactly the same as Shia.

I asked reaching for my desk on which were my books with the intention of fetching the one she was after. "The Six Wives of Henry VIII; by Alison Weir" She said excitedly smiling at me. I nodded; it took me a couple of seconds to grab it I gave her the book and she thanked me before turning on her heels. I don't know what was it about her, but I didn't like her guts for some reason. I guess it was because she said being new and already befriended Lizzie By the time she was gone, I hurried to hide my piece of work, for I had finished the portrait earlier and put the last touches. I covered it with a cloth and It was ready to be submitted tomorrow.

The second villa was the epitome of Victorian architecture. The entrance and interior were too stunning, with perfection visible in every corner. The portrait of Hexa De Morte, as in the first villa, welcomed everyone. Hexa is seated on a throne-like chair, with a magnificent king-like expression and his different porcelain mask over his face in this portrait. The three girls, Gnetol Raspberi, the redhead, Nadira WhiteShadow, the greenhead, and Acantha Neptunewings, the bluehead, crushed everyone and went to the front to gaze at the portrait.

Lady Ashley brought her to her room. In the beginning when Rose had entered the woman's room, she felt as ease, but now all she could feel is threaten surrounding her. The lady smiled as she offered her to sit in front of her. Beside the table was a freshly painted portrait placed next to the table. The painting only had the base color placed in them, letting Rose to only view the silhouette of what the woman had painted. She wondered if it was a large castle but upon a closer look, Rose saw a silhouette of a large bear-like creature and humans around it that was trying to subdue the creature.

I both hated and admired the woman's elegance and arrogance combined, I guess she is this rich? "Oh, yes that is the portrait of Princess Zeina Greyback the owner of this villa, and the vast lands surrounded by a tall fence. She will come down in a minute I hope you are not in a hurry Chief." I meet his gaze then back at the stairs and the portrait. "Well, we are not in a hurry and it's better if we wait for her before I discuss everything. I don't want to repeat the nature of our business today." He shrugged his shoulders and moved his hand to gesture us into sitting on the couches inside the wide living room. The cozy place is immaculate and made me feel how lucky for the owner to be livin

Countess Matilda nodded, reading his mind. "You have a very attractive eye, sir. It is like you see me... unravel me. May I ask your profession?" Young Normal leaped to his feet with his finger in the air. "Of course, My Lady." He rummaged amongst his bags and boxes and brought out a painting. "I'm a painter, milady." He hurried the tray of tea quirks and spread out his babies. A beautiful painting of a woman. An elegant portrait. The countess' eyes broadened at the resemblance, running her fingers lightly over the woman's cheek. The portrait of a young prostitute in the wharf tavern.

I turned and stood gobsmacked, my mouth somewhere on the floor. A giant portrait of a lady, with long black hair and a huge smile, stared back at me. The lady seemed to have been laughing at something when the picture was clicked. Her face was in the direction of the blazing sun, which kissed her lovingly bathing her in its glorious warmth and light. Some strands of her hair were all over her face and she was happy! “You have got to be kidding me.” I took a step back in shock and horror, my eyes still glued at the portrait because I knew the lady intimately. The lady was none but me. And I seriously didn’t have any idea of what was happening.