The third portrait in the series shows a woman with a deeply wrinkled face, with the serene dignity of someone who has lived intensely. She wears a voluminous turban and a brightly coloured robe that spills out in rich, expressive folds. A necklace of irregular beads rests on his chest, as if it were just another part of his story. Her appearance suggests South or East Asian roots: India, Thailand, perhaps Mongolia... it doesn't matter where exactly, but what her face conveys. The pen stroke, firm and uncorrected, finds in her wrinkles a map of experiences. Each line on the skin is a furrow of time, and each shadow, a story. The colour, vibrant but restrained, gives life to the fabrics, to the brightness of the necklace, to the contrast between the vitality of the outfit and the silent gravity of her expression. She does not smile or pose. She simply is. She looks straight ahead, with an intensity that does not seek to impose itself, but says it all. Her presence closes the series with a quiet strength, like a root that supports the whole. Together with the other two portraits - the man with the grey hair and the man in the Arab turban - this figure completes the balance of the series: three faces, three geographies, three different silences, united by the same human gaze. Pen and colour here become tools of respect, of listening, of attention to the real. It is not a portrait of the exotic, but of the essential.