Saved By The Mad Duke

In the quiet and somber solitude of Bella’s room, Aideen clutched the little scarf to her chest, its soft fibers felt like countless thorns marking her skin with traces of tragedy. Tears streamed down her cheeks unchecked, mingling with the fabric as she hugged it tightly, seeking solace in its comforting embrace.

Each sob wracked her body, shaking her to the core as the weight of her grief threatened to consume her whole like an empty void. She cried until her head throbbed with pain, until her eyes stung with exhaustion, until it felt like the very air had been sucked from her lungs, leaving her no choice but to suffocate.

But still, she cried, unable to stem the tide of emotions that threatened to drown her in their depths. She was afraid that if she were to stop even for a moment, she would never be able to cry again.

With each shuddering breath, the woman felt a part of her soul unraveling, torn apart by the overwhelming ache of irreversible loss. She cried for what felt like an eternity, lost in a sea of sorrow, unable to fight the despair that compressed her chest like a vine. And yet, even as her tears dried and her sobs subsided, the emptiness remained, a hollow echo of the presence she had lost.

At last, when her body could no longer remain strong, unbeknownst to her, Aideen succumbed to the powerful clutches of physical exhaustion and let go of the sorrow, allowing herself to fall asleep.

***

"Aideen?"

Lady Valentine furrowed her eyebrows and moved her head slightly while the heavy clutches of fatigue refused to let go of her weak body.

"Aideen?"