Zena’s POV
I appeared in her chamber quietly. She was sitting in front of her mirror dressed in a wine-colored silk gown.
She was breaking and slowly losing herself like a fragile glass that had taken too many hits. Her eyes were bloodshot and her makeup a mess. Her hands trembled as she dragged the brush weakly through her hair.
"Poor thing," I said softly, stepping from the shadows.
She was startled and the brush fell from her hand, clattering to the ground. “Zena…” She called, her voice was hoarse. “What are you doing here?”
I tilted my head with a gentle smile. “You looked like you could use a friend.”
She looked at me for a long time, not saying anything. After a while, she crumbled.
“I’ve lost him,” she whispered. “Even with Camilla gone, I’m invisible. I can’t do this anym
