After the Council, she followed him.
Without thinking. Without warning.
In a stone corridor, she caught up with him. He stopped. Slowly.
Turned around.
Their first eye contact.
His eyes were darker than she had imagined.
But they burned with a sick fire. A sad fire.
She spoke softly:
"I am your wife. I am not a shadow. Say something to me."
Silence.
Then his voice, hoarse, low:
"You are not ready to hear me."
She stepped closer.
"Then teach me. Or I will leave."
He smiled without joy.
"You have nowhere to go, Queen of the Empire."
Then he walked away.
And she remained.
Alone. Chained to a crown that did not want her.