บท 190: A Throne of Ice and Shadows

Azriel gazed at his mother, sleeping peacefully. Her face was streaked with dried tear marks, and her eyes were swollen from crying so much.

Instead of sitting on the bed where his mother rested, Azriel had conjured a chair made of ice. He sat on it silently, watching over her, listening to her soft, steady breaths.

An hour. An entire hour she had cried before exhaustion finally pulled her into his arms and into sleep.

...His own mother.

Gently, Azriel brushed the strands of blonde hair from her face, tucking them to the side. The moonlight spilling through the windows illuminated her features. He couldn't help but think that if someone painted her like this, the artwork would fetch a fortune—not because she was Aeliana Crimson, but because of the serene beauty etched on her face.

A soft breeze wafted through the room, and Azriel's eyes flicked to the open balcony doors he had forgotten to close.