(Siena's POV)
The delicate ceremonial goblet slips from my trembling fingers, and I barely catch it before it shatters, much like my heart once did in this very place.
My breath comes in short, shallow gasps as I clutch the intricately engraved silver chalice, my chest aching fiercely.
Each item I pack carries echoes, memories humming beneath my skin like ghosts I've long tried to silence. This goblet was a gift from my warriors, presented proudly after I led them safely through our first major negotiation. Holding it now, I remember their faces—loyal, trusting, proud.
I remember Raiden's quiet nod of acknowledgment, one of the rare moments he’d shown approval. Back then, I had clung to those sparse gestures like lifelines, desperately hoping they'd lead somewhere deeper.
