Just a few steps down the hall and to the right, the Teyrna's lady-in-waiting could be heard sobbing into a handkerchief. The yellowed and stained piece of wrinkled parchment next to her on the nightstand was dated weeks earlier and the ink had run, but its message was still clear:
"It is with much regret and sadness that I inform you of your sister and my wife's death. Sefora and our daughter did not survive childbirth. Both were cremated in chantry fashion and are remembered with a marker on the eastern foothills of Dragon's Peak. Please send news to Melora, and may the Maker watch over us all. Should you ever have cause to visit Denerim, know that I have been appointed as Hahren and will do my best to see to the needs of you and the rest of her family. Yours truly, Valendrian."
Lenora clutched the amulet around her neck, remembering it was the last thing that Sefora had touched before gifting it to her. It would be too painful to wear it every day and be constantly reminded of her youngest sister. She took it off, kissed it, and placed it underneath a loose piece of granite she had found as she was sweeping beneath the nightstand several weeks earlier. The elf knew she wouldn't be able to travel to the West Hills area to send news to Melora until after the spring floods in a few months. It was still quite cold in Highever, despite the warming influence of the Waking Sea. Lenora shuffled over to the fireplace, added some more wood and climbed back into the bed, crying herself to sleep.