[Silthara Palace—The Next Day—Emperor's Chamber]
Levin fluttered his eyes open.
Light filtered softly through the high lattice windows, pale and unhurried. For a moment, he did not understand where he was—only the warmth surrounded him, steady and protective.
"…ugh," he muttered faintly, lifting a hand to his brow. "My head hurts…"
As he shifted—SQUISH.
Something warm and yielding pressed against him. Levin stiffened, then looked down to find himself once again enclosed in the serpent's coils, closer than before. Memory rushed back in fragments—pain, heat, breath, silver and shadow.
He rubbed his forehead with a small groan.
"I truly did not know," he murmured to himself, voice hoarse, "that womb formation would demand such immense pain."
Then the coils shifted.
Smoothly, silently, the silver serpent receded. Scales flowed like liquid moonlight, reshaping, drawing inward—until Zeramet sat in his human form once more, tall and solid in the morning light.
