"Mmm… soon… soon… my son… soon…"
The crazed murmur crawled through the chamber, the sound low and uneven, like broken glass grinding against stone.
It was difficult to reconcile. Earlier, she had been every inch a queen.
Now, she was unrecognizable.
Her silver hair had come loose from its braids, strands falling wild across her face, and the gemstones that once caught the light dangled crookedly in their pins. Her icy blue eyes were no longer steady or unreadable but clouded and restless, darting as though chasing shadows.
The layered silks of pale green and white clung unevenly to her frame, wrinkled and stained, their once-regal elegance broken into something unsettling and frail.
And now, instead of a teacup, the woman clutched something tightly against her chest, and only when the faint outline came into focus did it register as a stuffed animal. Her fingers dug into the worn fabric as if it were her lifeline, her nails whitening from the force of her grip.
