The night was deep and quiet.
Durin once again sat by the window.
Anta was preparing the bed sheets, and the girl, after making the bed, looked at Durin and walked up to him, reaching out to hold his hand.
"I know you love children and don't want to see them get hurt, but Old Milo wasn't wrong, they are members of the Royal Family, naturally facing the dirty political games. We don't know why they died, but I don't want to see you so saddened."
Durin reached out and pulled Anta into his arms.
The girl before him was an irreplaceable treasure, a second light in the long night of his life. "I know, don't worry, I won't try to seek out the truth."
"But we know you're not that kind of person," Irene said as she walked into the bedroom, approaching Durin. "The Durin we know is someone who views truth and reality as more important than life itself."
