Walking the hallways, Grace noticed the tapestries that hung on the wall. Bodies being tortured, their pain evident on their faces. Each tapestry became progressively more vile and bloody, she shifted her eyes to the floor. Unable to comprehend the pain and wanting to take the pain away from the woven bodies in the tapestry. Nikothoe stopped in front of a large wooden door, “This is your room.” She pushed the heavy door open, leading Grace inside. Grace marveled at the luxurious furniture around the room. She ran her fingertips along the dresser as she walked deeper into the room, no violent tapestries in here. She smiled softly, a tapestry depicting her grandmother in full armor hung near the canopy bed. Azael’s silver hair flitting on the breeze, determination in her eyes and sword held
