The words shook Ash out of whatever was going on in her. Simon was her most beloved and like any mother, Ash wanted nothing to ever happen to her son, but life and fate always had their own thoughts.
Shelby straightened up, wondering why the whole place seemed to have dropped a notch in terms of mood, but she soon found out.
The grand hall, once filled with quiet murmurs, was shattered by another heart-wrenching scream. This brought goosebumps to most of them,
"NOOOOOO!!!!!!!"
Ash had always been a woman of poise, of refinement. Her every movement was measured, every word was always precise. But all of that crumbled in an instant.
"MY SON! 'Ai, léth siúren! Násh iel sárh!' [Oh, cruel stars! Take me instead!]"
She lunged forward, skirts billowing behind her, even forgetting that she could have flown there faster, ignoring the gasps of the gathered nobles and the whole Fae populace. There was no dignity in grief, no grace in desperation.
Despite this, she was still too late.
