Rag Dolls and Raiding Goblins

The candles in Vexena's private bedchamber burn low, casting golden, flickering shadows across the obsidian walls. The Demon Queen lay sprawled across a sea of velvet sheets, her breathing uneven, limbs tangled in her bedding. Her usually regal posture nowhere to be found as her body lay twisted in discomfort, her brow furrowed in restless dreams.

Her long white hair tangled across her pillow, and even in the deepest hours of the night, her crimson eyes flutter beneath heavy lids. Sleep… true sleep… had eluded her for years. Since the day Veena had disappeared into the world beyond the Demon Lands, her nights were tormented by silence, doubt, and the ghosts of all the things left unsaid.

Beside her, nestled under a heavy embroidered blanket, lies Virelle. She snores softly, lips puffed out, clutching a ragged doll tightly to her chest.