[Silthara Palace—The Consort's Pavilion —Days After]
Morning returned to Silthara Palace with quiet dignity.
The first light of dawn spilled across the white stone terraces, painting the long corridors in pale gold. The desert wind carried the scent of warm sand and distant date blossoms, drifting gently through the open arches of the Consort's Pavilion.
Levin sat beside the reflecting pool.
The surface of the water trembled softly beneath the breeze, scattering fragments of sunlight across the marble floor. His veil rested lightly over his shoulders, the thin silver threads catching the light like frost.
Before him lay several sealed parchments.
Reports.
Requests.
Petitions from noble houses across Zahryssar. Yet Levin had not touched them. Instead, he watched the water. Asha rested beside his feet, her small body curled lazily against the cushion. Lyresaph sat nearby, blinking slowly at the drifting petals floating across the pool.
Behind Levin stood Raevahn.
Silent.
