The portrait she meant was the one painted for Lina by Mr. Dandelion, who called himself the greatest artist in the world. He had begun the work on the day Lina was crowned Queen of Lorraine, and she had completely forgotten about it until Celia brought it up. However, when Dandelion finally presented his masterpiece after spending more than a month on it, Lina had been genuinely astonished. Unlike the Eastern artistic tradition, which placed greater emphasis on capturing the spirit and meaning of its subject, Western portraiture in this world was remarkably realistic, almost like photography. Lina was already familiar with her own appearance, yet when she stood before the life-sized painting, she had still found herself staring in disbelief. Good heavens, is that really me?
