Azrayel's chest rose.
Lowered.
The pause came again.
Metheea kept her hand against his cheek and waited until the blanket moved.
Only then did she breathe.
Michael approached the other side of the bed. The head priest carried a shallow bowl of dark medicine and a folded cloth, while the senior royal physician followed close behind him.
"Princess, we need to examine the veins near his core," Michael said.
Metheea did not move her hand. "Will touching him disturb it?"
"No. Ordinary contact will not affect his core, provided no mana is passed into him."
"And if I lie beside him?"
Michael's gaze flicked toward the others in the chamber before returning to her.
"It will not harm him. Your channels have closed since the transformation. No mana should pass between you unless you deliberately summon it."
Metheea removed her slippers.
Polo looked up from the reports on the table.
Kalistra stepped closer, but Metheea had already lifted the blanket.
