[Silthara Palace—The Court Hall—Continuation]
The court did not speak; it absorbed. The evidence had been laid bare, not argued or pleaded, but presented.
And with it, Levin had done something far more dangerous than proving guilt; he had defined power.
Not as something negotiated, not as something questioned, but as something that simply was. The nobles stood still because now they understood. Malika did not misuse authority; he did not act without reason.
And yet no one within that chamber… No one within the empire stood above him. No one—except Zeramet. At the center Nabuarsh trembled, but this time not in defiance, not in pain, but as something else.
His head lowered as though the weight he carried had finally found its place. A whisper broke, soft, and disbelieving.
Arkhazunn stared at him as his voice barely held, "...Why isn't he speaking?...Why does he not deny it...?"
His gaze fixed, unblinking on the man he had once trusted beyond reason.
