The air was cold, the kind that makes you pull up a glove. The mist covered the ocean, hiding the anchored boats from Althenia. The atmosphere was so chilly that the birds were afraid to chirp this particular morning.
In the royal chambers, the smell of death clung to the air like a plague, refusing to leave as if one with the cold.
But to Elena the cold was nothing compared to the one clouding her heart. Her eyes were heavy as she stared unblinkingly at the city from her usual spot. It was no different from the other days, but today, she didn't appreciate the little things she used to: the milkman dropping bottles at the doorstep, a drunkard hurrying to his wife in the wee hours...
All these were nothing today. Her eyes, with dark circles under them, were a void of emptiness. Last night, she had cried her tears out, left with little to nothing to spare for today.