Morgana had left Eirik's chambers earlier that morning, her heart heavy with guilt and grief. She hadn't wanted her son to see her break down; he needed strength from her, not more sorrow.
Yet the sight of him, so withdrawn, so fragile, had shattered the last of her composure. She couldn't hold back the tears that had streamed down her face as she leaned against the cold stone walls outside his chamber, silent sobs wracking her body.
She eventually retreated to her own chambers, the weight of her emotions almost too much to bear. Sitting by the large bay window overlooking the castle gardens, Morgana had buried her face in her hands, blaming herself for everything.
I failed him, she thought bitterly. She hadn't been able to protect Eirik, not from the betrayal, the heartbreak, or the pain that followed. And now, seeing him like this, silent, defeated, and unwilling to even acknowledge her presence, was too much to endure.
