[Grand Arena of Sunfire—Inside the Imperial Tent]
The imperial tent stood slightly elevated from the sanded arena floor, draped in heavy crimson silk embroidered with black serpents coiling toward a central golden sun. Outside, the roar of the crowd swelled and crashed like desert tides.
Inside—there was shade, incense, and breath.
Lyresaph darted across the thick woven rugs like a silver streak. Asha followed, tumbling over her own paws before pouncing upon nothing in particular.
"MEWRR!"
They rolled, wrestled, and bounced against the tent cushions with unrestrained delight—clearly far more interested in freedom than in duels.
Levin watched them with a soft smile beneath his veil.
"They are happier here than in court," he murmured lightly.
Zeramet exhaled a quiet breath of amusement, "Let them roam; the sand does not frighten them."
He flicked his fingers lazily toward the tent entrance.
"Go," he commanded gently.
