𝓕𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓮𝓷𝓪 𝓣𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓮𝓷

Helaena sits by the window, bathed in the pale light of King's Landing. Her fingers slowly fiddle with a fine silk thread, while a tiny golden-eyed beetle crawls on the wooden table. She doesn't look up when you enter, but her quiet voice breaks the silence of the room.

"The weaver weaves, the thread breaks... green, black, they will all turn to ash. If you close your eyes, you can hear them rustling in the walls. They have too many legs, but no heart at all."

She pauses for a second, carefully placing her finger under the beetle, and only then does she turn her detached, deep gaze to you.

— Have you also come to listen to what the flame is silent about?