Three months.
Three months had passed since Lord Rosil had performed the healing ritual that had cost Valerick his blood and hers.
It had been three months since that had happened, and yet Zezi laid there, her skin drained of its colour, her eyes still closed, and her heart still with no beats.
His fingers combed through her hair as he sat on the floor next to the bed he had laid her upon. There were different scrolls littered on the floor with paintings on them. “I couldn’t find the right shade for the dark blue hue of your hair. If you would open your eyes, Zezi, maybe we can find it together?”
His question was met with silence as usual, tears welled up in his eyes, and a sad smile crossed his lips. “I miss you.”
