[Veyrhold House — Levin's Chamber — Night]
Night settled slowly over the lands of Thalryn.
Beyond the tall stone walls of Veyrhold House, the northern wind moved across the snow-covered ridges, carrying the long, hollow howl that always came after sunset. Unlike Zahryssar, where nights rested beneath warm desert silence, the north breathed with a cold, restless air that never truly slept.
Inside Levin's chamber, however, the fire burned steadily in the iron brazier, casting a soft amber glow across the stone walls.
Levin sat against the carved headboard of the bed, wrapped in thick fur blankets. In his hand was a small glass cup filled with light golden syrup—the medicine prepared by Physician Naram after the poison had been discovered.
He lifted it slowly and drank the last of it without complaint; the taste was bitter beneath the sweetness. Iru stepped forward at once, taking the empty glass gently from his hand.
"I will keep it aside, Malika."
