Emerald huddled in her bathrobe, her legs tucked beneath her and her head resting on her knees.

She looked like a stray cat or dog, curled up into a ball, as though she had been left out in the cold.

Alaric's anger slowly melted away, replaced by a deep sense of pity. One thought consumed him: I've made a terrible mistake.

She was so fragile yet so important—how could I have let her suffer like this?

Emerald didn’t stir when the door opened. Was she asleep?

Alaric knelt in front of her. Her eyes were closed, long lashes casting shadows over her pale cheeks, which were faintly flushed.

Realizing what...