The Fragmented Memories

Ingrid sat on the sofa, bathed in the warm, orange glow of the afternoon sun that filtered through the curtains. Rocking her knees back and forth, she pondered the situation. Days had passed since she last spoke to her brother, Sten, unsure of how to address the growing distance between them. However, what she didn't expect was that Sten and the other Ásján delegates would be departing so suddenly without a word.

The realization struck her, and a pang of regret filled her chest. "I should not have been so prideful," Ingrid thought, her mind wrestling with a mix of emotions. 

As the shadows lengthened in the room, she wondered how she could bridge the gap that had silently grown between her and Sten. 

Ingrid's voice echoed with anticipation as she called out, "Christine?"

From behind the door, Christine declared, "It's me, Princess."

A smile lit up Ingrid's face as she welcomed her, "Come in!"