After Mera’s execution, the days blurred into an unending nightmare.


    Lira never left her chambers. The meals delivered to her remained untouched, the candles in her room burned out and were never replaced. The palace halls whispered of their queen—of her silence, of her absence. But no one dared enter her room. No one wanted to face the fury of a ruler who had lost control over her throne.


    But there was no fury.


    Lira wanted to hear nothing. See nothing. She lay motionless in the darkness, her room sealed off from even the faintest sliver of sunlight. Her gaze was empty, staring into nothingness, as if the outside world no longer existed. And every time she closed her eyes, Mera was there.


    She saw it all—again and again. The blade falling. The crimson spray. The fear in Mera’s eyes just before her head struck the cold marble floor.


    But worst of all was the smile.


    That soft, knowing smile beneath her fear. A silent message:


    "I would do this for you, My Queen."


    Each night, the nightmares came without mercy. Over and over, she saw Mera trapped in an endless cycle of death. Again and again, Lira woke up drenched in cold sweat, her heartbeat frantic, her chest tight as if a thousand blades had pierced it at once.


    Nothing could quiet the storm inside her.


    Nothing could erase the weight of the guilt that carved itself into her soul.


    And then, that night came.


    The night when the dam finally broke.


    ---


    Outside, the rain poured relentlessly, beating against her chamber windows. Thunder rumbled in the distance, its flashes illuminating the shadows that consumed the room.


    The last candle flickered weakly, casting a dim glow over the cold, empty chamber. Lira sat on the floor, her back resting against the grand, towering bed that had never felt so lifeless. Her nightgown was crumpled, her raven hair a tangled mess, her eyes red and swollen from tears that refused to stop.


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    She felt hollow.


    As if there was a vast, gaping wound in her chest—one that nothing could ever fill.


    Before her, atop a small wooden table, lay a single object illuminated by the dying candlelight:


    A red ribbon.


    Mera’s ribbon.


    It was no longer vibrant, no longer the soft crimson that once swayed with her every movement. Now, it was dark—stained by blood that could never be washed away.


    Lira’s fingers trembled as she reached for it, grasping the delicate fabric with both hands. It felt fragile, as if it would crumble to dust at her touch.


    The last image of Mera flashed before her—the wide, terrified eyes, the parted lips frozen mid-plea, the moment before the executioner’s blade severed her life.


    Lira’s breath came in sharp, ragged gasps.


    "This is my fault," she whispered.


    Her voice cracked, barely audible over the rain hammering against the glass.


    Her grip tightened around the ribbon, her nails pressing into her own skin, almost hard enough to draw blood. Tears dripped onto the silk, as if trying to cleanse it of the stain that would never fade.


    "If I hadn’t gone to the forest… if I hadn’t made you lie…"


    Her breath hitched.


    "You would still be here. You’d still be mocking my awful fashion choices, still forcing me to stay up late reading useless history books with you—"


    Her voice broke entirely.


    She wanted to scream. To shatter everything around her. But all she could do was clutch that damned ribbon, the last thing tying her to the only person who had ever stood beside her.


    "My father hates me. My people don’t want me. And now… even the only person who ever cared for me is dead because of me."


    Her body shook. The weight in her chest became unbearable, pressing down like an avalanche.


    She curled forward, her forehead nearly touching the floor.


    Lira punched her own chest—as if pain could drown out the agony that had carved itself into her bones. But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.


    She gasped, swallowing back a sob, but the void inside her had already consumed everything.


    And in that silence, as the storm outside raged on, Lira realized what she had to do.


    She could not stay here.


    She could not rot away inside this palace, drowning in a grief that would never let her go.


    There was only one place that might hold the answers she sought.


    The Forbidden Forest.