Ingrid sat perched on the edge of her bed, her slender frame sinking into the soft mattress as she leaned back against the headrest. Moonlight streamed through the window, casting a silvery glow across the room, illuminating her features in an ethereal light. Her eyes, usually vibrant and full of life, now seemed hollow, reflecting the emptiness that lurked within her soul.
The silence in the room was palpable, broken only by the soft rustle of fabric as Ingrid shifted on the bed. Across from her, the palace attendant, Paula, sat on a small stool, her posture rigid and her expression stoic. Her gaze was fixed on Ingrid, her eyes tracing the delicate curves of her face with an intensity that bordered on reverence.
Ingrid glanced at Paula, her gaze lingering on the attendant's impassive face.
"What's your name?" Ingrid asked, her voice gentle.
