[Thalryn Empire — Veyrhold House — Levin's Chamber — Night]
The night over the Northern Empire was silent.
Snow lay unmoving beyond the balcony, the pale moonlight spilling across the stone floor of Levin's chamber in long silver lines. The fire in the hearth burned low, its warmth soft, steady, and peaceful—the kind of quiet night that should have brought rest.
Levin lay on the bed, covered in heavy blankets, his breathing slow. To anyone who looked at him, he seemed asleep.
Peaceful and still, but he was not.
His fingers were tangled tightly in the sheets beneath him, knuckles pale from the pressure. Sweat clung to his temples, sliding down his neck despite the cold air in the room.
His brows were drawn together as if he were fighting something unseen. A nightmare, and this time… it would not let him wake easily.
***
[Levin's Nightmare]
He was standing in Silthara Palace.
