Ever since the war between the faes and his mother had got over, Ileus had been on the verge of madness. The last five minutes of the war had been grueling. The rawness of the pain of losing Anastasia to god-knows-where sliced through his mind, his body every day, every minute and every second. The pain felt like ice shards, like they pierced in his very soul.
His mother and father were mourning the loss of Iona and he could see how miserable they were.
Anastasia's parents were released from the celestial prison. It took them a while to recover from their condition. Both of them had become like ghosts—frail and weak and pale and mentally exhausted. The healers worked overnight to restore the health of the fae king and queen even as the kingdom was celebrating.
