The candles in Vexena's private bedchamber burn low, casting flickering gold across the obsidian walls. The Demon Queen sprawls across a sea of velvet sheets, breathing uneven, limbs tangled in the bedding, her usually regal posture nowhere to be found. Her body twists in discomfort, brow furrowed against whatever restless dream has hold of her tonight.
Her long white hair tangles across the pillow, and even in the deepest hour of the night, her crimson eyes flutter beneath heavy lids. True sleep has eluded her for years now, ever since Veena vanished into the world beyond the Demon Lands, her nights have belonged to silence, doubt, and the ghosts of everything left unsaid.
Beside her, nestled under a heavy embroidered blanket, Virelle snores softly, lips puffed out, a ragged doll clutched tight to her chest.
