[Silthara Palace — Malika's Private Bath Chamber — The Next Morning]
Morning did not arrive loudly. It seeped through carved lattice and silken curtains that stirred with a breath too gentle to be noticed, soft and deceptive because within these walls danger had already awakened.
Steam rose from the imperial bath in slow, curling veils. Fragrant oils shimmered across the water's surface; fine powders rested beside folded cloth, untouched, perfect, and waiting.
At the far end, Levin stood before the mirror, robes draped loosely over his form untied as his gaze lowered to himself and to the subtle curve beneath silk.
His fingers moved slowly, resting against his abdomen.
"…It has begun to show." The words barely left his lips: not fear, not wonder, but recognition.
His hands lingered there longer than needed as if searching for something beyond sight.
Then—Knock.
"Malika… I am entering." Iru's voice came through the door.
