(This was based on a prompt: The last chapter of a relationship.)
It was the small things that Anora noticed at first.
Cailan had always been an attentive listener, at least for her. But in recent months, he seemed miles away when they would have their private talks in the evening. "Sorry, what?" replaced his usual reply of "Tell me more, love."
Eye contact became less frequent and more fleeting. Stolen kisses behind closed doors became more and more rare. During walks in the royal gardens, when her hand would search for his, it would only find empty space.
Soon, granting audiences to various nobles ate at his shrinking free time. He'd spend hours upon hours locked away in his study, writing or dictating missive after missive. He never shared who the messages were for. Invitations to bed were often postponed and eventually forgotten. She grew used to sleeping alone but did not enjoy it.
With the discovery of darkspawn in the south, her own father spent more time with her husband than she did. King and Teyrn would argue and bicker like an old married couple. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. At least he actually spoke to the Teyrn, instead of being ignored, like his queen.
When news of his death reached her, it was with shock that she discovered she wasn't as brokenhearted she thought she would have been. In truth, her heart had been in a slow, drawn-out process of cracking, bit by bit. Each bit of affection ignored had flaked off yet another piece until only the bare bones of what had once been her warmth for him remained.