Anos was like a rose that had been shorn of all its thorns, with petals drooping low.
Mira watched the Princess in disbelief, never having imagined that such a valiant beauty could ever present such a state.
"How... What's wrong with you?"
Anos steadied herself against the wall and sat down on her bed, where the bedding was in disarray, seemingly from her painful tossing and turning.
"It's an old ailment, Mira.
It has plagued me for a very long time."
She seemed to ease a bit, her voice not as pained.
Mira approached with a measure of heartache.
"What exactly is wrong?"
Anos turned her head and spoke slowly,
"The problem is with my heart; every year when the humid season of summer and autumn comes, my heart begins to ache fiercely.
It has troubled me for many years now, unbearable, truly agonizing."
"The heart?"
Mira looked at Anos's slightly heaving chest, approached, and asked,
"What's wrong with your heart?"
