Zavian entered through the door with a heavy weight on his chest. It was a feeling like no other. The worst of experiences were flashing before him, the thickest of emotions were pouring into his eyes in form of wetness.
Zavian did not mean to let his emotions show, but if he concealed them from Davina then there was no one in this world he could show them to.
The chamber bathed in dark, similar to his own. The windows opened wide to let cool air inside, it was serene and chilling. At the center of the chamber was a bed covered with curtains from all four sides.
Zavian’s steps faltered and hit a stool. It carried a vas with wilting flowers, which smashed onto the hard ground with a fatal fall.
“Who?” A timid voice asked from the covered bed, Zavian blinked.
“Victori?” He asked.
