I stared at the door, expecting Orpheus to return while still sobbing my heart out.
Why!?
Why did I act so childish, believing Anastasia instead of trusting the king? The more I remembered his pain-stricken face, the more tears fell from my eyes; if I had the power to go back just a few hours, I wouldn't have acted the way I did.
My hands clenched onto my chest, my knees raised, and my head rested on them while still staring at the door. I wasn't sure how long I sat there waiting for the king to come back; I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up, it was already bright outside, with the sun almost blinding me.
I was not on the floor but instead on the bed with a duvet covering me, which meant that the king had returned back to the room, yet the side of the bed where he was
