The haunting echo of Kyran's scream reverberated through the chambers of Yves' mind, refusing to release its grip on his consciousness throughout the night.
Sleep eluded him, replaced instead by restless tosses and turns, and a persistent ache in his temples upon waking. Even as he splashed cold water on his face, hoping to banish the lingering remnants of the haunting cry, he found no respite.
The image of the evil duchess, a figure despised by many as a villain, but revered as a hero by those she held dear, occupied his thoughts. She had dealt out unfair deaths, yes, but it was a desperate measure to shield her husband and children from harm's cruel embrace.
Yves bit his lower lip, wrestling with conflicting emotions before finally taking in a deep breath. Steeling himself, he donned a facade of forced cheer as he faced his reflection in the mirror.