Luna struggles to keep her hands by her side and not wipe away the lonely tear sparkling against his pale skin. It's only instinctive to feel considerate towards a crying person, or maybe that's how Luna took it to be. The pricking affliction of her squeezed hand was long gone to be kept into consideration, for now an overriding matter had surfaced.
She lets her teeth work upon the lower lip as she keeps her thoroughgoing stare fixated at him, while his eyes wander elsewhere. Luna follows his to see where his eyes tend to look at and finds him staring at the guy who initiated an unwanted conversation with a statement that appeared to be intimate.
'The King is on the deathbed', that's what Lucien said as far as her memory served. How could a sentence so simple swirl up such intense emotio
