Darcy stood before her mother's grave, her heart heavy with the few memories she had managed to recover. Fragments of her mother's presence flickered in her mind, igniting a desperate yearning to piece together the rest. The portrait her father had given her held a special place in her heart, providing a sense of warmth and familiarity that she couldn't fully comprehend.
As she gazed at her mother's adorned grave, the sight of fresh flowers brought a bittersweet realization—her mother had been a beloved queen, cherished by many.
"Your mother was a loved queen." Her father explained. "Well, she was impossible not to love," he said with a smile.
Darcy smiled as well.
Her father sat beside her, sharing stories and memories of their love and how they came to be. Darcy couldn't help but smile all the way through, finding solace in the tales that painted a picture of their bond.
"We should come with Ravina next time," her father suggested.
