They also wouldn't leave her alone. Noone has, during the day. While she was in Castle Whitestone, even its servants seemed to always be present and keeping one eye on her, as if they feared every moment she was about to collapse or something. There were places elsewhere in the city or the wilderness she could sometimes escape to, and there might be places here in Zephrah as well, but today she hasn't had the opportunity. Her father stayed with her until she finally excused herself to sleep.
But now she is alone. All alone, as she pushes open a door and just stares into a room she last saw not much more than a month ago, when she peeked in and glanced around, just to make sure she and Vax hadn't forgotten anything.
At first she keeps her eyes on the bed, as she walks in and sits on it, and wishes she was much more tired. But ultimately, she can't stop herself from looking around.
Everything in the room's been left mostly untouched, although she supposes her father would've stepped in and done a quick magical dust every now and then, and maybe another one that morning. Her and Vax's spare robes are still on top of the closet, and she knows there's a piece or two of his clothing still in there. Most of the stuff on the bedside table is hers, but amid it all there stands out a mostly empty jar of boot polish. The books on her shelf are almost entirely from her childhood, but she sees two of them on Exandria's history sitting on one end where Vax left them, his bookmarks still marking where he'd left off.
Rolled up against one wall is a tapestry they received a couple months ago now, a gift sent by a weaver in Emon. One who apparently received some account of exactly how Thordak was killed, but either it got distorted or he took artistic liberties, for it shows Vax stabbing his heart crystal, with it shattering as a result. Keyleth hadn't wanted to throw it out, but Vax hadn't wanted to look at it, so they just sort of left it there.
The bed they got to fit both of them was always a little too big for the room. Now, as Keyleth sits on it with her legs folded under her, she feels like it almost floods the place, yet another reminder.
A vivid memory hits her of the last time she and Vax made love in it, a few days before their departure. When she looks at the headboard, she can still him still sitting against it, her in his lap, them gently moving up and down together, as he held her pressed up against him, close enough for every one of their breaths to mingle.
Of course she starts crying again. How could she not?
She cries as she undresses, struggling to hang her cloak up properly with her hands shaking so hard. She cries as she dons a nightgown, one she doesn't even try to button up all the way. She cries into the pillow as she pulls the blankets around her, trying to get herself warm in the chilly night, even while feeling like she'll never be warm again.
This, she decides, will be the last night she sleeps in this room. She'll have to figure out in the morning where she'll live, but she and Vax did discuss moving out in their final months together. Of course, that was when they started discussing not only marriage, but possibly even children. It was always very hesitant, even as they confirmed it was what they both wanted. And yet Keyleth wonders if they tempted fate, talking that way, just a little too much.
Even if he'd lived to marry her, Keyleth's not sure Vax would've agreed to children, in the end. He might have still been too worried about leaving them behind.
Eventually she gives up on falling asleep, at least immediately. She goes over to the wardrobe without bothering to light anything, and it's dark enough over there it's only when she's pulling the robe she grabs on that she realizes it's Vax's. So many weeks and it doesn't smell of him anymore. Keyleth doesn't know if that relieves or disappoints her. She wraps herself up in it and goes over to the window, pushing the shutters open.
From here she can see a good deal of Zephrah, and Catha's bright enough for her to make out details, even a handful of people who are still up and outside. Next to the home she shares with Derrig, the head of the Tempest Blades, his wife Nel is standing and talking to Laney, a much older woman. Not far from them, young Torth is up his roof, probably looking for weak spots in it. There's a young couple slowly strolling up the hill hand in hand; Keyleth doesn't look at them long enough to tell who.
Up this high enough and the air isn't always entirely still at night. There's just enough of a cold breeze to prick Keyleth's cheeks, to be sharp on her ears. The tears have stopped, but they've left her skin colder. The chill fills the room; her feet are freezing. She could warm herself with her hands, of course, but right now, she doesn't want to.
Nel and Laney finish their conversation. The former goes into her home, while the latter walks off, towards her own. The couple have strolled out of sight completely. Keyleth hopes they get inside. Torth's still out there, and while he's got a good coat on, she can still see him shivering a little.
Around this time last year, Keyleth spent a few days treating the town to some snowfall. Not the easiest task, and the snow had always melted overnight, but each afternoon there'd been enough for sledding and snowmen, and Vax was among those who had led off snowball fights. The children of Zephrah all have to be hoping she'll do it again this year. And she will. Just not for a few weeks, at least. Zephrah has plenty of overcast days in winter. There'll be time.
She remembers on the last day she did it, Vax insisted on taking her sledding. They ended up crashing. Everyone who saw it came running to help, many of them laughing as they'd done so, but Keyleth found she didn't mind that so much. Her father noted afterwards that had been a little undignified of her, but he didn't push the point too much. Keyleth never wants to be above her people, and everyone now knows that very well.
Vax helped with that a lot. Keyleth's not sure he ever even realized how much goodwill he earned from them both with his behavior to everyone, the warmth and congeniality he was better at than her. She's only fully appreciating it now.
Among the things her father told her about today was that Zephrah has already done mourning rituals for him. The day they heard the news, he said, they all gathered together to remember him, and they sat and reminisced until well into the evening. It was probably the biggest mourning gathering they'd had since they heard about the devastation of Pyrah. Many wore black the next day. Since then, a number of tokens have appeared on the altar he made, likely gifts for him, rather than the Matron.
But much as they loved him, that was only going to go on for so long. For most of the Air Ashari, the mourning period for their headmaster's consort is now over.
Torth apparently finishes his work on the roof for the night; Keyleth watches him climb down. She sits there for maybe a minute or so more, before she finally forces herself to close the shutters.
Ultimately she falls asleep laid on partly on top of the covers, partly with them wrapped around her, still wearing Vax's robe. The next morning, she awakes to the sound of tapping against the shutters, accompanying by the cawing of a raven.