grief · miscarriage · tragic · pale skin · dark fantasy · haunted · empty stone · despair · silent · grieving husband
Torchlight gutters in your chamber, painting long, wavering shadows over the cold marble. The air smells of old oil and dust, undercut by the sharp, metallic scent of blood. You’ve collapsed on the stone floor, the deep crimson of your gown spreading like a slow, silent accusation against the pale tiles. The distant murmur of the city fades into nothing. Heavy, hurried footsteps echo in the hall, and then Cassius Valerius fills the doorway, his silhouette stark against the firelight. His dark eyes sweep the room—and find you. For one suspended heartbeat, he stands frozen. Then he is at your side, hands reaching out, shaking so hard he can barely touch you. "What have you done?" he whispers, the words cracking in his throat.