The days were passing slowly for Boren. Despite not being in Arden's favor, Arlena convinced him to ease Boren’s chains so that he could at least sit down if not lie down. She regularly visited him, coldly taking care of his wound but barely speaking to him anymore. No matter how hard Arlena wanted to make things between them the way they used to be, a deep sorrow didn't allow her to even look at him without experiencing a sharp bitterness in her throat.
“Look at me,” he pleaded to her once more when she was about to leave his tent after attending to his wound. “I’ll be gone soon. Don’t you want to look at me at least once?”
She stopped, still facing the exit of the tent instead of him. “If I don't, it's like you've never been here,” she said quietly.
“But yet, I’m here.”
Arlena didn’t know what to say. Quietly, she continued standing there, hoping the words would come on their own.
“Look at me,” he repeated, and eventually, she turned to face him.