Now that the painting is finished, I will sit in young lady Emily's skin and wear her face like a mummer's mask. Havelock and his lickspittles will put the child on the throne, but it is ME they will be crowning. Delilah. The kitchen girl from Dunwall Tower. They called me Sokolov's apprentice, but whose paintings reach through to the spirit? Mine. They will never know their blunder, but I will be sure to whisper it into their ears at their executions.
My followers will bear the lantern to the gallery in order to open the way to the Void. There, I will use the painting to complete the ritual. My walk into Emily's flesh must be undisturbed.
The ritual has other uses, which I will explore over time. Any image made by my hand could serve as the focal point for the spell. I imagine one of my enemies as a still life, imprisoned in a bowl of fruit without amusement.