Reginae Lacrimae

The queen sat before me, eyes hollow and ringed with grief. I hesitated as I lifted the earrings—Reginae Lacrimae, they called them—gifts sent by a distant court. The crystals shimmered unnervingly, too clear, as if they had been carved from frozen tears. I fastened them to Her Majesty’s ears. She clasped her trembling hands together.

I slid the matching ring onto her finger. She let out a soft, shuddering breath. I had dressed the queen for many years, through many trials, but I had never seen her so despondent. Those crystals seemed to drink in her sorrow, their cold brilliance mocking her silent despair.