Ruby sat on her bed, her hair still damp from the recent shower, and her body shivered in the cool silence of the night. Draped in a simple, pale nightgown, she gazed out the window where Xerxes stood, his figure a dark silhouette against the void of the starless sky. The night was an endless expanse of black, a void without a single glimmer of moonlight, amplifying the sense of isolation that weighed heavily on her heart.
Her eyes never left him. Each slow gulp she took seemed laden with unspoken questions, and her mind raced with worries.
Was he mourning her death? Was he in sorrow? She after all, was his mother.
Perhaps the sudden, tragic death of his mother had left a gaping wound in his soul—a wound that, only time could begin to heal. Ruby's heart ached as she recalled the harsh
