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── ୨୧ ──
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Saera wiped the tears from her cheeks, the sting of salt still fresh on her skin as she stumbled through the dim, shadowed halls of the castle.
Suddenly, a voice broke through the silence, soft yet carrying the cold weight of authority, "Saera."
She froze mid-step, her heart tightening. Her mother stood before her, framed by the dark corridor, eyes sharp and unreadable. Saera dared not meet them, her gaze dropping to the floor as if the stone beneath her feet held answers she couldn't bear to face.
"Don't be late for dinner," Alicent said, crossing her arms with an air of finality. "The whole family will be there."
She nodded silently, swallowing the lump rising in her throat, the ache of isolation settling deeper into her bones.
Alicent's eyes flicked to Ser Criston standing nearby, his expression stoic but troubled, his gaze fixed on the floor.
Saera watched them both, feeling the unspoken tension thicken the air between them. Her mother sighed quietly to herself, before she turned and walked away, each step echoing through the empty hall.
Left alone, Saera shoulders sagged under the weight of solitude. A silent witness to the fracture between mother and daughter, the growing chasm that no words could yet mend.
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