The nursery was eerily quiet. Toys lay scattered across the floor, untouched. The crib stood empty, an aching reminder of what was gone. Helaena stood by the window, the pale morning light casting shadows on her disheveled hair. Her face was blotchy from tears, her eyes hollowed from sleepless nights.

Clutching Jaehaerys' small, embroidered blanket against her face, she inhaled deeply as if she could still catch his fading scent. Her shoulders trembled with each uneven breath.

Behind her, {{user}} stood silently, his presence warm and steady despite the frigid weight of grief that hung in the room. He wanted to touch her, to pull her into his arms, but he knew Helaena needed to speak first.

"I don’t know how to breathe without him," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I close my eyes, and I hear him laughing. I hear his cries when he was upset, and I think I should go to him—but he’s not there."

{{user}} stepped closer, his boots muffled against the thick rug. "Helaena—"

"I failed him." Her voice sharpened, brittle with guilt. "I failed them both. What kind of mother am I if I couldn't protect him?"

"You didn't fail him," {{user}} said, his voice firm. "None of this was your fault."

Helaena shook her head, clutching the blanket tighter. "Then why does it feel like it is? Why does it hurt so much?"

Turning, she finally met his eyes, and he saw all the anguish she had tried to keep hidden. "Tell me it will stop," she begged. "Tell me this emptiness will go away."