"I suddenly remembered my mother," Leia whispered. Lucien's fingers moved gently across her scalp, guiding the water from her hairline to the nape of her neck in steady, soothing motions. "Once, when I broke my arm, she washed my hair just like this. It feels strange… maybe that's why I had such a disturbing dream."
Lucien tilted his head, his hands never pausing. "What was it about? Sometimes sharing eases the weight on your mind."
Leia's eyes fluttered shut. "I heard people screaming… like a fire had broken out. Then suddenly, I saw my mother's face."
Lucien's brows drew together in thought, his expression darkening at her words. He couldn't understand why she would see such visions, but now wasn't the moment for questions. What mattered was comfort. "I've noticed you speak about her often," he said softly. "Perhaps it's because you miss her most. That's why that longing shapes itself into your dreams."
