The sky was a dim canvas of gray, heavy clouds drifting silently over the weary camp of the Bloodburn survivors.
Their tents stood battered, their spirits worn, the survivors huddling in small groups around sputtering fires that fought desperately to keep burning against the oppressive chill.
Hope was fragile among them, a tiny flicker kept alive only by the birth of their little princess, Ravina who fortunately was returned safely though still in deep sleep.
Still, many carried heavy hearts, believing their king had abandoned them despite reassurances from their queen and the consorts that he wouldn't.
They wanted to believe them but it was hard to believe after enduring so much. His daughter was born and still, he wasn't here.
Rowena stood quietly at the edge of the camp, her heart heavy, her pale face shadowed with a pain she kept hidden.
