Lacus Clyne's Sorrow

Just as Lacus Clyne buried herself completely in her pillow, silently soaking the pillowcase with tears, the doorbell announcing a visitor suddenly rang through the room.

It was a crisp, gentle electronic chime that shattered the heavy silence in the room.

When it rang for the first time, Lacus Clyne's body only trembled faintly. Her mind was completely consumed by the grief in her heart, and she had no desire to answer the door. Her brain simply issued the command to ignore the bell.

She chose to bury herself even deeper in the pillow, trying to sever all contact with the outside world.

However, a few seconds later, the doorbell rang again. The sound was just as clear, but the persistence in that repetition was far more obvious, impossible to easily ignore.

A wave of irritation washed over Lacus Clyne.

She let out a faint, frustrated sigh and, unwillingly, slowly and laboriously pushed herself up from the pillow.

Her movements were sluggish and exhausted.

She slowly walked to the door, her body not fully straightened but slightly hunched over.

Rather than opening the door immediately, she first looked at the small video display beside the doorbell.

On the screen, the figure standing outside was clearly reflected—Xia Ya.

His face was tense, his brows faintly furrowed, and his eyes shone with concern. His gaze was fixed on the camera inside the door, as though it could pierce the cold electronic device and see her on the other side of the screen.

He stood straight, and though he carried the fatigue of travel, his worry somehow made him seem even taller.

Lacus Clyne's gaze lingered on his face for several seconds. In those few seconds, she saw his eyes, his posture, and her heart was stirred in an instant.

Her fingers touched