Yohana struggled to control her trembling hands, clenching them into a strong grip to quell her agitation.
Her voice, quivering with emotion, belied her attempt at composure as she turned to their knowledgeable guide, her curiosity overriding her unease. "What is this?"
The guide, eager to share the city's history and culture, offered an explanation. "Oh, that's the statue of Tusshia. In days of old, she was worshipped as a goddess, but in more recent times, she's regarded as merely a religious leader. The statue has graced this square for generations, and the emperor has chosen to preserve it. Would you like to get a closer look?"
"No way!" Yohana's whispered words escaped her lips in disbelief.
The woman depicted in the painting was undeniably her mother. The silver hair, the unmistakable features—it was an image etched into her memory.
