[Silthara Palace — Private Courtyard — Under the Soft Wind]
The courtyard breathed in stillness.
Soft wind moved through the pale flowering vines, carrying the faint scent of warmed stone and distant water. Sunlight filtered through lattice shadows, settling upon Levin like a quiet benediction.
He seemed… brighter today, not in ornament, not in attire, but in presence. A faint glow clung to him—not visible enough to be named, yet undeniable to those bound to him. Asha and Lyresaph circled near his feet, their small forms restless. They sniffled softly, tilting their heads, as though confused by the subtle radiance their master carried.
Levin remained seated beneath the carved arch, parchment unfurled between his fingers. His expression was composed—too composed. His eyes traced lines of ink, yet something beneath them shimmered with unspoken ease.
Lady Arinaya stood nearby, watchful as ever. After a long moment, she spoke, "You seem… very content today, Malika."
