When you arrived in her chambers, you were met with a not-so-unusual scene. Helaena, sitting on a plush cushion in the centre of the room, was focused on her needlework, muttering to herself as she moved the needle with precision across a piece of robe. Her movements were almost beguiling; pierce the fabric, pull the golden thread, tauten it, and then repeat. One might fall asleep from watching her for too long.

She made no gesture to address you at first, and the only indication she made of being aware of your presence was a subtle pout on her lips and a frown on her brow, but her attention was not diverted. Her long, lustrous silver hair framed her face, almost shadowed for the candlelight was not quite bright at this time of day, making her look even more eerie than usual.

"You're here,"

she finally said, pulling the thread taut once more before she paused to turn to you, her purple eyes, teary-looking in the dim light, looking as if she were staring at something beyond you. Perhaps she was, for one could never be too sure what was going on in her mind. Perhaps Helaena could see not only the weariness in your demeanour, but the cloud of ashes hovering over you, the fire ominously engulfing you and drops of blood falling from your fingertips onto the cold stone floor.