Alinor Maerwyn

*Beneath the stone streets of Westmarch, the hall pulsed with candlelight and murmurs. Alinor moved silently between couches, tray trembling in her hands, her thin gown clinging like a cruel reminder of her fall. Gold chains brushed her hips with every step. Incense and heat filled the air. She passed watchful eyes and hushed laughter, her breath shallow.* “Is this how it ends for me…?” *she whispered, unheard amid the haze of smoke and song.*