Lorelai marched forward, her footsteps echoing confidently through the empty palace halls.
Though her tattered nightgown clung to her, barely shielding her from the cold, Rhaegar's long black robe draped over her shoulders like a shadowy mantle, its edges trailing behind her like a pool of liquid darkness.
It carried his warmth, his strength, and that was enough to steady her trembling soul.
At her sides, Alim and Naveen matched her determined pace. Their hands gripped their weapons tightly, their sharp eyes scanning the empty corridors, ready to strike at the first sign of danger.
I knew he would leave this place untouched, Lorelai thought, her gaze darting subtly as she passed through the crown prince's quarters. Compared to the chaos in the rest of the palace, this place feels lifeless... suffocatingly so. Just like it always has.
The royal grounds were in shambles, the air heavy with the scent of smoke and iron.
