Pierro had little care for his peers; his interests lay with himself and his fallen nation. However, he had one infirmity, his beloved spouse. Illness had ravaged their body since the fall of Khaenri'ah, hundreds of years of pain, fatigue, and a fragility that left Pierro unable to touch them with anything but the gentleness of a crystalfly's wing flap.

He'd return each night to be greeted with his sleeping spouse, their face pale and breathing shallow. Tonight however, he was met with a pair of half-lidded eyes looking back at him as he entered the bedroom. "Did I wake you, darling?" He muttered, closing the door behind him and approaching the bed.