Earlier
Tatiana sat motionless on her bed, staring at nothing. Her hair was uncombed, falling loosely around her face. Dried tears had left faint marks on her pale cheeks. Her eyes were swollen and red, as if she had been crying for hours. The room smelled faintly of lavender water and old perfume, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside her.
The door opened softly. Yelena entered, holding a small tray. Steam rose from the bowl — her favorite meal, warm and rich — something Yelena had prepared hoping it might comfort her. She placed it gently on the bedside table.
"My lady," Yelena said softly, her voice careful, almost pleading. "Please, have a bite. You haven't eaten all day."
Tatiana didn't move. Her eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling, blank and distant. She looked like a person who had lost everything — her pride, her hope, her strength.
