[Silthara Palace — Malika's Private Chamber — Moments After]
The doors burst open not with grace but with urgency. Naram entered first. robes shifting, hands already moving, eyes sharp with trained calm.
Behind him, attendants followed only to halt the moment they saw Zeramet, standing at the center, holding Levin tightly in his arms.
No one spoke because the air itself warned them—this was not a moment to falter.
"…Move." Zeramet's voice came low, deadly, and immediate.
The attendants scattered aside, clearing the space. Naram stepped forward without hesitation and without fear as Levin groaned in pain in Zeramet's arms.
"…Place the Malika down, Malik."
Zeramet did not move for a fraction. He only stared at his consort, who was huffing and groaning in pain, clutching his abdomen. He could not move.
"…Malik." Naram's tone sharpened but still professional. "…If you wish to save both Malika and the heirs—"
