Zaber was sitting in the chair.
The sun was quietly suspended above him, its rays falling directly on his body. The heat slowly warmed his skin, but he barely felt it. His breathing was steady, his heart beating calmly. His eyes were closed, but he was not asleep.
In this state, another hour and a half passed.
Time seemed stretched here, each minute shifting with heaviness.
Luna approached Zaber slowly, taking careful steps. She tried not to make a sound, as if even a slightly louder breath could shatter this silence.
She spoke in a gentle and low tone:
"Master… the food is ready."
Zaber did not open his eyes.
His voice came out low, but clear and commanding:
"Bring my food here. I want to eat alone."
Luna bowed her head. This gesture was not habitual; it was an inner caution.
"Yes, Master."
She retreated slowly without looking back.
