The afternoon light filtered through the curtains in soft, golden bands, painting stripes across the bedroom floor. Dust motes danced in the warm beams, suspended in air. Outside, the world continued its ordinary rhythm. Birds sang, servants moved through distant corridors, life went on.
Inside, the silence was heavy.
Arkai sat on the edge of the bed, his back to Cecilia, his head dipped so low his chin nearly touched his chest. He was dressed now. Simple clothes, nothing like the formal wear he usually favored, but his entire color palette had shifted. Dark. Monochrome. The kind of gray that came from inside, not from lighting.
"I… have failed as a man."
His voice was hollow. Stripped of everything that made him him.
Cecilia lay on the bed behind him, one hand pressed to her waist, rubbing absently at the ache that still lingered. Her body bore marks, bruises from his grip, the deep crescent of his bite on her neck… but her eyes were clear and focused.
