Lumina's arm remained looped around her husband's waist as they walked through the open street, yet her steps felt distant, as though her body moved while her mind lagged. Ashen tried. She knew he did.
He slowed his pace for her, guided her around uneven stones, pointed out stalls filled with color and sound, but none of it reached her heart.
The image of the shattered mirror refused to leave her.
The arrow.
The blood she had felt.
The shadow only she had seen.
Ashen's laughter earlier, light and coaxing, had faded when he realized she was not responding the way she usually did.
Her silence worried him more than tears ever could. Lumina leaned into him, resting her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It grounded her, yet it did not erase the unease clawing at her thoughts.
She did not know whether to fear her own mind or the world around her.
The thought that she might be losing herself terrified her.
