[Silthara Palace — Malika's Private Chamber — Immediately After]
SLAM!! THUD!!!
The doors closed not softly, not gently, but decisively, sealing the world outside. Inside, silence did not settle; it tightened because the air still carried it—Zeramet's presence—dark, heavy, and unyielding.
And at its center Levin stood, still held, still within reach. Zeramet did not release him immediately; his grip remained firm, not hurting but not allowing distance.
"Zer—what—" Levin's voice barely formed before it was cut off.
"…Consort." Zeramet's voice was low, controlled, and dangerously so. "…Do you understand… What you have done?"
Levin met his gaze, steady and unbowed. "…I just went out… I did not think you would be this worried."
Zeramet's fingers tightened, not enough to harm but enough to remind.
"…Worry?"
A faint, sharp breath left him, not quite a laugh, not quite anger.
"...Do you know...?" He leaned closer, his voice lowering. "…what I thought?"
