Daphne's POV
I remained frozen beside the corpse longer than wisdom allowed, as if my presence could somehow undo what had just transpired. The sentinel's lifeless gaze remained fixed on the ornate ceiling above, studying the elaborate artwork of wolves and crescent moons painted across the plastered surface. From where I stood, those grand murals appeared majestic and proud, but closer inspection revealed hairline fractures and age-yellowed edges that spoke of decades passing unnoticed. I focused on these imperfections because I desperately needed something else to occupy my mind, anything besides the unnatural angle of his neck against the cold marble floor.
