Morgause slowly glided out of the early morning fog; smiling, almost triumphantly, at the two male silhouettes by the lake. The cold, white mist danced around them, as though devouring them whole, whilst the Prince cradled the smaller boy within his strong arms. She could hear his sobs echoing through the crisp, frigid air and as she drew ever closer she could almost see the tears trickle down his cheeks, and drip onto the boy's pale face below.
Her form now appeared out of the shadows and she swiftly neared the two men; her pace now quickening as she tasted the opportunity for her long awaited revenge. The Prince's gaze drifted up upon the sound of Morgause approaching the lake, though the utter hatred she witnessed within his eyes and etched upon his face, was enough to startle even her. But the eye contact only lasted for a brief moment, as he seemed unable to look at the young witch for any longer. She allowed a few seconds to pass before extending her arm towards him; revealing a golden chalice.