The front doors of the brothel creaked softly as air drifted in. The scent of rain and rose oil mixed together felt faint and familiar. Lirien appeared at the entrance, her hair still damp, a thin robe wrapped loosely around her body. Her bare feet touched the polished wood floor as she reached for the door handle and pulled it open.
There she was.
Elyria.
Her hair was tangled and dull, her eyes heavy from exhaustion. Mud stained the edge of her dress, and in her arms, she carried a sleeping child. A white dog lay at her feet, panting weakly. The woman who once carried herself like a queen now looked fragile, human, and tired.
For a moment, Lirien couldn't move. Her lips trembled. The last time she had seen Elyria, she had been smiling... waving from a carriage, promising to return soon. That "soon" had turned into ten long years.
"Elyria..." Lirien whispered.
Elyria looked up slowly, and when their eyes met, a tired smile spread across her lips.
