TWENTY SIX: Sephora

It's none of my concern? At least, that seemed to be his implication. How am I expected to remain ignorant of the cause of my blackout? My body felt heavy; I can move my limbs now, but the lingering sensation of numbness persists. The fog in my mind is slowly lifting, but clarity eludes me. I need answers, yet no one seems willing to provide them. Why am I kept in the dark about my own condition?

I endeavoured to close my eyes, but the whispers from Slit and Darth prevented me from doing so. Cirdan had left the room, likely to play melancholic tunes on his piano. It was peculiar to consider that he had carried me to his own chamber— what had become of the palace infirmary?

"What do you suppose might have happened to her?" I heard Slit whisper.

"It is none of our concern," Darth reprimanded.

"Don't tell me you're not the least bit interested," Slit insisted.

"I am, but can't you tell she can hear us, you fool?"