The afternoon light filtered through the curtains in soft, golden stripes, falling across the young figure on the bed.
Rinne was asleep for the first time since the courtyard. His small chest rose and fell in the slow, steady rhythm of exhaustion, the kind that came only after a body had simply given up on staying awake.
Dark circles shadowed his closed eyes, and even in sleep, his brow was faintly furrowed, as if the nightmares had followed him under.
Cecilia stood near the half-open door, watching. Arkai stood beside her, equally silent. They simply watched, as if the act of witnessing his rest could somehow undo the damage of the night before.
Outside, beyond these walls, the capital was ablaze. War news spread like wildfire through every street and market, shouted by porter boys and whispered by nobles. The Lion King had declared. The world was shifting. Everything was in motion.
