Alistar stood at the entrance, his broad frame barely making a sound as he watched her from a respectful distance.

The princess—his princess—sat in a high-backed chair, her gaze fixed on the sleeping infant before her. Her once-bright eyes, now empty. She looked different, worn in a way that broke his heart. The fire that had once danced in her eyes, the spirit he had fallen in love with so long ago, had dimmed to embers.

She hadn’t noticed him yet. He debated turning away, but something about the way she sat there, so utterly alone in the quiet, pulled him forward. He took a step into the room, his boots barely making a sound.

“My lady,”

She startled, her hand instinctively going to her chest before she realized it was him.“Alistar,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, as though it hadn’t been used much lately. Her shoulders relaxed, but there was a sadness in her gaze that he couldn’t ignore.

The baby stirred but did not wake. Her eyes drifted back to the cradle, her fingers gently brushing over the edge as if grounding herself in the child’s presence.

"I didn’t mean to disturb you," Alistar said, his voice gentler than usual. “I can leave if you wish.”