Twice Crowned in Crimson
Sometimes, she would hum a tune that sounded like a lullaby, or whisper Sebastian's name or murmur to her baby, before sinking back into silence.
I saw her once, through the ward's glass. She was skin and bones, her once-golden hair dull and lifeless.
…
Another winter's day wrapped the hot spring manor in a cozy embrace, with logs in the fireplace popping and hissing. I snuggled into Anthony's arms, both of us gazing at the snowstorm raging outside our window.
"Did you hear? They found a homeless guy, frozen solid, down by the docks yesterday," Anthony murmured, pulling me in closer. "Someone recognized him. It looked like it was Sebastian."