The silence in the Eastern Garden became a living thing, a predatory frost that crept between them until the only sound was the distant, melodic chime of Rael's laughter as he chased the glowing frost-flies. It was a beautiful sound, the only warmth in this graveyard of ice, and yet it felt like a countdown.
When the quiet remained unbroken, Eris felt the familiar weight of her own isolation. She shifted, her silks hissing against the sapphire stone as she prepared to stand.
"If you have nothing to say, Caelen," she said, her voice as flat as the frozen horizon, "then I would like to spend what remains of this evening with my son. I have little time left for such luxuries."
She rose, the movement fluid and distant, but she didn't make it three steps.
