Queen Beatice Laurwen Eldaleon gazed at her daughter with gentle affection. Her eyes slowly shifted to Elaria's hand, now resting upon Elthamar—the bow her late husband had left behind—as if she were trying to feel again the warmth that had long since vanished from the room.
"It feels like only yesterday he stood here beside you," the queen said with a wistful smile. Her eyes clouded over for a moment, hazy with memories too sweet to forget. "Back then, you were still a little girl, playing in this very room. I remember it clearly… you wet yourself in his lap, and he just laughed and said it was a sign of good fortune."
Elaria's face instantly flushed, and her restrained voice burst out. "M-MOTHER!" she cried in half-panic, turning her face away like she wanted to dig a hole and hide in it.
